1 Frying Pan to Fryer

Begin, Phase One: Crash Landings and Recoveries

"Jesus, Michelle, way to lay on a guilt trip!"

Over the phone, I hear her alto voice giggling madly. It's been twenty years since I last seen Michelle, but I can remember every aspect of her. Her father was Italian, a doctor with a thriving practice, and a luxury home deep in the Appalachian mountains. Her mother hailed from Cuba, graduated from Havana University as a RN, got political asylum in the US in the late 70s, then married and had three children. Michelle was oldest, and by right of hybridization, the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on in all my sixteen years. (She was in my graduating class, Class of '99, yet I was two years older than she was.)

That wasn't just my opinion though, well over half the male student body got chubbies watching her walk past. I'm still quietly surprised there wasn't a robust trade of shower stall pics in the school cafeteria. Unfortunately for me, but also most of my graduating class, we were not worthy of her affections. I only became her friend, and permanently banished to the friendzone, after performing an act of chivalry. (I rescued her school photos in eighth grade from some rogue whose name I now forget.)

"Come on, Stevie," she chided, "EVERYONE'S gonna be there. It just wouldn't be the same without you."

Not many people get away with calling me "Stevie." I reserve that right to family; anyone else gets to see the Black Irish in me. Trust me, it isn't pretty.

Sighing, I close my eyes and say, "Okay, Michelle, I'll be there. I don't know WHY you even need to see me there, but never let be said I would abandon my friends in times of need."

"Yay!" She squeals, loud enough I need to remove my cell from my ear.

"Careful there, <mon cheri!> This old wolf's ears as sensitive as ever."

"I didn't make you deaf in that ear, did I?"

"No, but you came close. Warn me next time!"

Another giggle, "♪Sorry!♫ Just remember, Clark Summit Ballroom, 8 o'clock. That's Eastern, for you."

"Copy that," I confirm, "keep a kegger of Pepsi cold for me."

She laughs, that tinkling melody I had grown to adore but have now almost forgotten, then she says, "<Oui, mon ami!>"

Her and the French language. I hate French, but I never said anything. I even learned quite a few phrases of it, just to be close to her. (Fat lot of good that did.) I also never understood her obsession with The Beatles. That was a band my dad listened to. I was more into Nirvana and Soundgarden, with a little Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre thrown in. (Nowadays, I find myself gravitating towards dubstep. Shameless, right?)

Then line beeps, and she's gone. From what I've gathered over the years, she lives in New York now. She has a husband, but I'm unsure if she has any children. Maybe she finally found what she was looking for, but I'm still a bachelor, Damn near everybody I know from high school has moved on. Lisa, the pretty ginger in the Color Squad, got married two years ago. Katie, the kooky drummer chick from band is living in Paris and has hooked up with some Parisian douchebag. Melissa, Corey, even frumpy little Sarah have got families of their own. I want to be bitter about it all, but it's not as if some of my failings in the dating world weren't my fault. Oh, well… The reunion isn't for another month, but I book my flight and get a rental car ahead of time anyway. Given my job, it's a safe bet I won't make either.

To me surprise, and chagrin, I do have the weekend of the reunion off. So at five in the morning, I'm up, getting breakfast before I shower. By six, I'm dressed, teeth are brushed, my stubble shaved clean, and my bags packed into my Blue Bullet. The Bullet has been my best friend for a year now. The CR-V gets where I'm going without fail and keeps cash in my pocket thanks in part to it's fuel economy. The other part of those saving is not worrying about a CD changer; I can link my Galaxy S3 with a 3.5mm cable and have wubs for even the shortest drive. Getting to San Antonio for my flight will hardly push the Bullet to its limit, but I fill up the tank anyway. Going 70 miles per hour down IH35 has a way of eating precious fuel.

From Laredo to San Antonio is a three hour drive, so when I get into town, my legs are stiff and my neck is worse. Baggage claim takes upwards of an hour, security nearly twice as much. I gotta say, those x-ray machines really give me a terrible case of gooseflesh. There's something Total Recall about those machines… Orson Welles would be terrified.

By the time I finally boarded my plane, Southwestern Flight 616 to Philadelphia, I'm hungry, worn out from standing still for so long, and a migraine is building in my head. It doesn't help that the lady in front of me is wearing copious amounts of some noxious perfume. In the cattle market that is Coach, I'm wedged into the window seat overlooking the left wing by a pair of yuppies with serious Napoleon complexes. They insist on moving my day bag to another overhead bin and I swear, if weren't for this migraine that keeps building, I would go SO medieval on them.

The flight isn't delayed by any weather or traffic, so we take off just after two in the afternoon. I figure with Daft Cunt and her partner, Dozy Prat, blocking my way to the restrooms, I may as well drift off for the entire flight. Won't be like I'll miss much. I'm proven wrong, when at 4:18 EST, the captain comes over the PA and announces we'll be hitting some turbulence. It's no big deal, he tells us, but to be on the safe side, buckle back in. I've flown quite a bit before, so I can handle turbulence. I get car sick, not airsick.

Two minutes later, I'm eating that thought as the plane lurches side to side in a drunken dance. The pilot comes on again, telling us the turbulence is worse than expected. He makes it plain that NO ONE should get up from their seat. Given the way the plane is cantering this way and that, I'm inclined to agree. Not so with Ms. Daft Cunt and Mr. Dozy Prat. They INSIST on getting up and grabbing their carry ons. There's important stuff they need to get out of them and they are fragile. I hear, between the lines, "Don't tell me what to do! If I want to get my laptop out while we rollercoaster in the sky, that's just what I'll do."

I have a scathingly snide remark to issue them, but the opportunity to give it goes away. That's because, in the midst of the thrashing about in high winds and dense clouds, the right wing of the plane shears off. Take a minute to consider that: THE RIGHT WING OF THE PLANE SHEARS RIGHT THE FUCK OFF. The plane is now down down two engines. I see the cabin attendants lifted from their feet and smack hard into the fuselage walls. Mr. Dozy Prat takes a header into the pretty brunette two rows up and Ms. Daft Cunt doesn't fair much better. She gets thrown into a bulkhead and her head gets turned to pulp. I'm not sure if we're in a tailspin or if we dropped into a free fall. I don't get an answer to that pressing question, because one of the left engines explodes…

Everything is really bright for some reason. I can hardly hear anything, but I guess that should've been expected. The engine that detonated was the one closest to my window. I guess I should be dead. That doesn't add up with the pain in my back, my arms, my left leg… Wait, am I dead? I don't believe in purgatory, none of my fellow Latter Day Saints do, but could it actually exist? That might explain why I'm writhing in agony, but it doesn't cover everything. My ears are ringing; if I were dead, my ears wouldn't ring, would they? Neither would it be so bright out here… Wait a minute here. 'Out here?' Am I outside? Hell if I know, but when I open my eyes, I see a dazzling sun overhead punching through a canopy of leafy green. If this is what Purgatory is like, sign me up!

Although, I would like to know why in Purgatory my body should hurt so. I can see, which means my eyes are intact. Maybe I should look around… Okay, that was not a good idea. One look at my left arm, and my gorge rises. The flesh on the appendage is ragged and bloody; bone peeks out from the more serious lacerations. That wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't noticed my left leg and what was missing from it. My left calf is… is… GONE. There's a bloody stump just below my knee where once there was my size fourteens. It's then when it hits me: if I wasn't dead from the explosion, the arterial spray from my leg WILL kill me.

What I did next, I'm not too proud off. I screamed. Not some manly bellow, not some girlish squeal, but a childish bawl. I screamed and screamed until spots turned up in my eyes and a fainting spell threatened. I was going to die, alone, in this God forsaken woodland, crying and carrying on like a toddler. It's a wonder I haven't crapped my pants, yet. With all the crying and screaming I've done, I'm hoarse like nothing else. I would have been better off if that explosion killed me, I muse.

I'm in such a state, that I don't hear the rustling of underbrush from behind me. I don't register the concerned voice that looks at me like a fledgling baby bird fallen from it's nest. All I can do at that moment is bawl. Bawl and pray that my end will be short, swift, and painless…

2 Technicolor Dream Coat be Damned

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I'm drifting in and out of consciousnesses… There's a babble of voices… I can't really make them out… I'm moving… I can see, though it's kinda hazy… Where're my glasses…? the canopy above changing shape… Left leg is on fire… Left arm, not any better… What's going on…?

Was it a matter of hours? Days? Weeks? I'm not sure, but when I come to, I realize I'm out of the forest. The light is uneven and flickers, so I must be somewhere with a fire going. I can smell the smoke so my assumption must be correct to some degree. I also notice that I'm laying on something soft. A bed maybe? No, I think it might be a sofa. My right side is pinned in by a fluffy wall, so it has to be a couch. I can't really move a whole lot. My lower abdomen is wrapped tightly in gauze. I can move my head, so that's how I find out my left arm is bandaged up. I can only assume that this is a fresh swatch. The last I saw that arm, it appeared to have fought a meat grinder and lost.

A quick surveillance of the room around me tells me more: whoever lives here is a civilized being, judging by the coffee table, the tea cups sitting on platters, and the book edging under several sheets of paper. There's furniture all around, but it seems rather small. Am I in a house of a dwarf? Please don't tell me I've gone Snow White here… Oh, look, a fire place! That's where the light comes from. It, too, is rather diminutive, further giving me the impression I'm in a little person's home.

"Look, he's awake!"

The voice emerges from somewhere outside my field of vision. It's a female's voice, of that I'm sure. I listen intently for the sound of footsteps only to be greeted by hoof clops. Since when did a horse get in here? To be honest, I was expecting a person to appear at my side, to check my injuries. To my surprise, it is not. What I see, and it's kinda fuzzy because I don't have my glasses on, is a glob of mulberry topped by a mop of blue, violet, and rose. When it leans in closer, I can see clearly that I am not dealing with a midget, dwarf, little person, or whatever it is the short in stature call themselves. What I see is equine, too small for a horse, too HUMAN for a pony, with eyes of medium violet that are inquisitive and concerned. Something juts out from it's forehead, but I can't focus on it properly; its outside my sight lines.

"Hello!" the pony thing says.

I swear on all things bright, the fucking pony talked. I was… flabbergasted? Agog? Confused? There was a voice in the back of my head that was laughing really hard. It yelled I just got punked, hard. The Mister Ed gag was old, even in this age of digital image manipulation. There is no way that pony talked!

"*AHEM!* Let's try this again," it said, quote-unquote, "Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle. And just might who you be?"

I didn't speak; I couldn't speak. My brain and all it's higher cognitive functions locked up. There was NO WAY that pony spoke. Logic, as little as I typically used, told me that lower level mammals didn't have the mechanics nor the mental capacity to speak a human language. Even parrots just mimicked the sounds of human voices. They didn't actually TALK.

"Fluttershy, are you sure you heard him talking?" the purple pony said, "He doesn't seem to be very intelligent."

Another voice, one well outside of my sight, softly spoke, "W-well, he was muttering while he was unconscious. I'm pretty sure he said, 'explosion.' Everything else I heard sounded like gibberish, but it could be because I don't speak his language yet."

More clopping noises, a mass of yellow and cotton candy emerged on my periphery.

"Given his injuries," the yellow thing said, "he may have been delirious. There was so much blood…"

The purple thing injected, "Well, my healing spell restored his left foreleg almost completely and your casts should allow his right foreleg to mend correctly. His left hind leg is a lost cause, though. An amputation like THAT is very difficult to reverse. All we could hope for is that he is able to walk on three legs instead of four. I haven't seen such a creature before, though. I ransacked the library and none of my books mention anything like HIM. Spike was less than enthused about cleaning THAT mess up!"

The "him" the purple pony thing spoke of was me. I found that rather disturbing. If this was Earth, I would be one of over seven billion people. I would be hard pressed to find a place where there wasn't a human presence, not even in the deserts. Still, the pony-thing was confused about what I was. What, I mused, have you never seen a man before?

"I wonder why he was in the Everfree Forest to begin with," the yellow thing whispered, "especially that part. Harry told me that he's seen wild manticores trudging through there. Oh, Twilight, do you think he was attacked by one?"

The concern the yellow thing used kinda touched me. She was worried that I had gotten into it with a a manti- Wait, a MANTICORE?! I know what it is, but why on God's green Earth would there be a MANTICORE in a forest? Aren't they supposed to be a myth? Like pegasi, unicorns, centaurs and gorgons?

"I'm not sure, Fluttershy. Everything about his appearance is a mystery. Rainbow Dash was the first to see him and she was certain he was dead. I have never heard of any creature taking that much punishment and surviving."

"Are, are you, um, sure your books di-didn't have... anything?"

The purple thing twisted her head slightly. It almost looked like she was reconsidering something.

"No, nothing like him exists in the fossil record. The only thing I can think of that even remotely comes close to his description is..."

I'm pretty sure this pregnant pause is cause for concern. Even without twenty-twenty vision, I can just make out the dawning horror in the thing called Twilight Sparkle's eyes.

"A Human…"

3 Day of Infamy

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"A Human!"

Wow. I must say, I'm beginning to feel a little insulted. The way that "Twifi Knuckle" said human, it sounded like she was scraping excrement from her feet. This did cause me some confusion and as I listened to the conversation between Knuckle and "Flufferguy," I got the sense my landing (for lack of a better word) was not as graceful as I thought. According to Fluffer, I was pulled out of the "Evertweaked" Forest with a tangle of other body parts. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who made this trip. Albeit, I was the only one to made it mostly intact. To hear Fluffer say it, it took several people to pull away all the dismembered limbs that were pinned down beneath me. Some nurse from a nearby hospital was called on to help patch me up as the torn appendages were removed. Twifi wasn't there for that operation; she was called into "Pokeyville" for some emergency or whatnot.

The first pervasive theory was about me was that I was some sort of diamond dog mutation. (What on God's green Earth is a diamond dog?) Or maybe even an offshoot of the Minotaurs. Twifi then comes in with some ancient text, "pre unification" I heard her describe it, that has a rather loose description of the human form. I didn't understand what they meant by that until Flufferguy made mention of how torn up and bloody my face was. Given her description, I was sure she thought I was some abomination from the pit. It wasn't until the blood was washed off that she saw my face. That was why they thought I resembled a Minotaur, but even that was not totally accurate. Along the way, I heard some other names that made little sense to me: Punkie Pipe, Applesmack, Scarcity, and Danish Slash. Not really sure if those are real names or not; that's just what I heard and I could be mistaken. Somewhere during the conversation, Morpheus calls to me and try though I might, I can't fight his summons…

Oh, God, why does morning have to be so EARLY? I feel a beam of sunlight striking my face and I'm sure morning has come. I open a lid, just a crack, and see a brilliant sun bursting from an open window. If my back weren't so tweaked, I'd turn away from the light, but as it stands, I'm immobile and at the mercy of the Daystar. Lucky me.

So, instead denying the daylight, I open my eyes, slowly, and left my mind ponder some of the facts I have garnered. For one: humans seem to be rather rare around here. Two: the prevalent species around are talking ponies. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that. Three: My species is something to be feared or something to be studied. Twifi's tone when she spoke of me suggests that humans were once rather common but have somehow fallen out of the limelight. Four: most information regarding mankind has been lost to time and tide. Twifi said as much. Her beloved library had only a book of fairy tales concerning humans. Not the most flattering stories I've heard but not as bad as they could have been.

But now, I have new set of concerns. I was the only one found from the plane. I highly doubt there were any survivors, but there should be some wreckage. Some of the plane must have landed in that forest. A vehicle as large as a 747 should create quite a debris field. Yet, I've heard no mention of any of this. If my estimation of the Evertweak is correct, there should be three or more miles of debris from Flight 616. So far, nada. Which begs the questions, where is here and how did I end up here?

It's mid afternoon now. Sunlight pours in from every window now and I can see everything my limited vantage point can offer. I seem to be in some shack or cottage. Everything is made of wood; no concrete, no tile, not a smidgen of any man-made material can be seen. Also, there are animals here. I don't mean outside, I mean as in lingering inside the building. I've seen ferrets running around a table, a white rabbit hopping from one end of the room to another, birds gliding into and out of perches placed strategically along the ceiling. Whoever lives here would give PETA members a massive coronary.

This place is a regular wildlife sanctuary! There were mice running alongside the baseboards ten minutes ago and pretty sure there was a bear lumbering about outside. Without my glasses, all I can see is blurs of color, but that was a pretty big fucking brown blur that passed by! Wait… is the yellow thing TALKING to the brown thing? As in, carrying on a conversation with it? And it can fucking understand everything the bear (gotta be a bear, all those growls and roars could be nothing short of ursine, unless this world has Wookies) says?! To quote Alice Pleasance: "Curiouser and curiouser…"

I'm thirsty. Oh, boy am I thirsty! Given my traumatic arrival and the amount of blood I've seemed to have lost, it confounds me that I haven't noticed this earlier. It's also a surprise I haven't succumbed to shock. Just how long was I out of it? It was day when I "landed." A night has passed and then this morning… I wish there was someone to tell me these things. Why did I not put on my watch yesterday…?

Okay, the yellow thing has just walked in the door. (I can see vague shapes of trees and a fence, so it must be a door, though to the front or back of the house, I'm unsure.) It's walks (trots, canters?) over to me. As it gets close, I can see clear details. It's definitely a pony of some kind, though I've never seen a pony with such large and expressive eyes before.

And what eyes, too. They are the most brilliant shade of cyan I've ever seen. They rival Zooey Deschanel's pale blue ones. Also, what I've mistaken for pink is actually a pale rose; it's coat is a pale gold color. As I drink in more detail, I see a brand on its flanks: three butterflies. I wonder which ranch it comes from…? Wait, why does this one have wings?

"Oh, are we awake?" the golden pony says.

I shit you not, the lips moved without any artifice. Like unto Pinocchio, there are no strings on this filly, no sir! I can feel a Blazing Saddles joke coming on… Yet, I don't think I can speak right now; my thirst has given me a bad case of cottonmouth. Instead, I just nod. No use pretending to be deaf and dumb. I'm stuck here, in this- sanctuary, while I convalesce.

"I see," says the pony I identify as Flufferguy, "a-are you thirsty?"

Again, I nod.

"Okay, I'll get you some water. Wait here…"

Like I can go anywhere else. I watch as the Fluffer leaves the room, quickly becoming a yellow glob again… Is she floating?! Good God, this is some good shit I'm on! Did I get hooked up to some Demerol? Or is this Oxycodone? Whatever it is, I'm tripping MAJOR ball-sack. I have got to get me a prescription for this!

Oh, here's comes my hostess, again. Yup, she's floating. I hear wing beats and I see that those tiny little wings are keeping her aloft. That voice from earlier, that one telling me I'm getting pranked, is now expressing deep disbelief and skepticism. I can see why; given her size and obvious weight, Flufferguy's would need wings ten times as large as the one she has now to keep afloat. This does not compute. Neither does her ability to manipulate objects with her hooves. I can see a glass of water between her fore hooves. I don't even want to know how she does that without fingers…

Fluffer sets down the glass on the coffee table next to me. Now she's floating behind me, getting a foreleg underneath both of my mangled arms.

"I'm going to lift you up so can drink," she says. It's a little hard to tell if that was what I heard; her voice is barely above a whisper. "If's that okay with you… I-if you would like me to…"

So polite and considerate, this one! I wonder if my Southern Manners would work here? I'll try that out later. I nod and the little Pegasus (pony body, feathered wings, that as close as I can figure a Pegasus to be) gently pulls my torso onto a sofa arm. She's surprisingly strong, to be able to lift my weight. I am not some Abercrombie & Finch model; I weigh nearly 300 pounds. (Although, with the loss of one calf, I may now weigh a little less.) Still, the little Pegasus gets my shoulders parallel to the sofa's arm. My field of vision now allows me to see a bit more, including a pile of objects, still a bit fuzzy, that could help me out tremendously.

"Drink slow now," Flufferguy says patiently and I am doing so.

Sip by sip, I am draining the glass. The water is clear, cool, and refreshing. It's the best water I've tasted in years. Now, scratch that, it's the best I've ever had! There's no antiseptic filtering going here, no pollutants floating around in the liquid, no rusty taste to it all, just pure water. I may have a sweet tooth the size of Texas, but I can drink gallon after gallon of this stuff!

"Easy now," coos Fluffer, "you don't wanna choke."

No, I do not.

"There now, isn't that better?"

I nod, "Glasses?"

Wow, when did I get so raspy? Did I suck up some jet fuel during the explosion? Or is the rasp in my tenor the result of smoke inhalation? Or am I still weak after the accident?

Fluffer stammers, "G-glasses?"

I nod, "Glasses, w-where are m-my glasses?"

Fluffer looks at me strangely. I'm pretty sure she knows I can speak, but the look in her eyes tells me she is less surprised than incredulous. She's also a little frustrated. Was it because of my playing dumb act with Twifi…?

"So you can talk!"

"Yes… hurts like Hell… R-razor blades on… ch-ch-chalkboard…" I shit you not, I sound like Joan Rivers. Well, a male Joan Rivers.

"Shh, it's going to be okay. Don't strain yourself."

I nod; I'm weak enough as is and adding insult to injury is just not what I need right now.

"There were some things from where we found you. I wonder if maybe…"

I see Fluffer going to the pile of I saw earlier. She grasps several items from the top and flies back to me.

"Let's see… These?"

Nope, these aren't the spectacles I'm looking for. Too- fashionable.

"Oh, I see. What about these?"

No, not these, either.

"How about these?"

Good Lord, however wore these was blinder than I am! Still, no. Horn rims ain't my style.

"These?"

Wait, wait… Ah, yeah, now we're talking! Rimless, midnight blue tinted and details out the ass! These are my glasses! They're cracked, though. They must have taken a nasty tumble when I landed.

"Y-yup!" I'm nodding so hard, I feel like a bobble head doll.

"Woo-hoo!"

That- was the cutest little cheer I've ever heard! And now that I can see well again, this Flufferguy is kinda cute, too. Well, for some pastel colored hallucination, I mean.

I croak out, "Thanks, Flufferguy."

What, did I say something funny? Why is Fluffer giving me that confused look?

"Who's Flufferguy?"

I nod in her general direction.

"You think…" I can see a blush form on her cheeks (horses have cheeks, right?) then she lands next to me.

"I'm Fluttershy."

I can just scarcely hear her, but I know she put a big emphasis on that last word. Was I getting her name wrong all along?

"F-flutter- shy?" God, it's sandpiper is lining my throat.

She nods, "Uh-huh."

"T-thanks, Fl-flutter- shy!" Okay, that was a slight bit better.

Wouldn't you know, her smile is heartstrings-pulling adorable. I think I may like it here… If it weren't some trauma induced fantasy.

4 Permanent Layover

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"Can I get you anything else?"

I shake my head negative. "No, I'm good."

"Well, if you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."

It's been a few days since I learned Fluttershy's real name. During that time, I've taken the time to learn all that I can from my hostess. Like the fact that after retrieving me, I was in a coma for three days. Also, I died at least once. That one was a shocker. Fluttershy was also kind enough to inform me that I needed a blood transfusion. I didn't bother asking where the blood came from or from what. I inquired about the plane I was on and got a bewildered stare from the Pegasus. If this place is real, then apparently, airplanes don't exist here. I'm also given to understand that that I was not the only body (save for some dismembered appendages) found in the "Everfree" that day. There were two others of my kind there, but neither survived the crash. I should feel guilty about that, I guess. I don't, truth be told; I hardly knew Mr. Dozy Prat or the young woman who sat in seat 9A. (Admittedly she was pretty, but I have an aversion to blondes…)

There were also artifacts recovered from the crash site. Beyond the pile glasses Fluttershy had, there were some personal effects from other passengers. Things like a whiskey flask, a shattered laptop, a cane, a lady's brassiere (I had some difficulty explaining that one), several smart phones, an oxygenation machine, and a pair of high heeled shoes. Fluttershy showed me the collection; it was quite the pile of personal effects. No wallets, though, which I found strangely disappointing. She also showed me the tattered remains of the clothes I was found in. I don't think I'll be wearing those again.

Another thing I learned from our conversations was the extent of my injuries. Left arm: third degree burns over 90% of the surface. Right arm: humerus, ulna, broke in two places; radius, shattered in three. Amputation of left calf straight to the patella. Six broken ribs (two upper, all four floating.) According to my hostess, it took an entire team of pony doctors and a few healing spells from "Twilight Sparkle." (Another name I got wrong, go figure.) I'm still not completely healed. The ribs will take a few more healing spell treatments. My right arm is almost completely repaired, save for some splintering in the third break of my radius. The burns on my left arm are the worst. Even with the healing spells and burn salves, I may never regain total sensation in that arm. Well, fuck…! I wouldn't be masturbating with that arm again. The damage on my left leg is cauterized and sewn shut. I'll have a stump there for the rest of my life.

You know, the funny part about all of this is, I have never broken a bone or suffered any major physical trauma of this magnitude in my life. My clavicle was broken when I was born, but my shoulders were wider than my mom, so it was a necessary medical procedure. Still hurts when the rain comes… In any case, there wasn't much else found in that glade where I was discovered. I asked about the debris field, the black boxes, search and rescue teams; Fluttershy didn't know anything about that and neither did any of her friends. According to her, the one she calls "Rainbow Dash" was the first to spot me and my two unfortunate fellow passengers. Twilight theorized some sort of magical phenomenon occurred where I and my two travel buddies got whisked away from the explosion. Fat lot of good it did for them, really.

I also pried some 411 about where I supposedly was. The land is named "Equestria," the town is called "Ponyville" (where did I come up with the Powerpuff Girls reference?,) and I was said before, the forest is called "Everfree." I kinda pissed off Fluttershy when I laughed at her description of the forest. She explained that the plants grow on their own, the animals take care of themselves, and the clouds move without pony intervention. I didn't see why all of that was so upsetting and my mirth brought my first really scary moment here, wherever here may be. Fluttershy stared at me, a real evil eye sort of look. When I caught sight of it, my blood froze. I don't think I've ever felt more guilty or ashamed in all my life! She would later tell me the "The Stare" was her weapon of last resort. I can understand why…

I ask Fluttershy, "So, Twilight will be coming by later today?"

Fluttershy nods, "She wants to see how your're healing and reapply her spells."

"I see. Listen, Fluttershy, can I ask you a favor?"

She nods, "Oh? Sure, what can I do?"

"This Twilight… She kinda unnerves me. I don't know why, but she scares me something awful. When I first saw her, I got the sense she could really do me some harm. You know her better, I guess but, just for now, can you downplay the whole 'he can talk' thing?"

Fluttershy asks back, "But why, Stevie?"

From anyone else, I would start throwing punches. With Fluttershy, though, I can't find the strength, mental or physical, to correct her. When did I get so pussy-whipped?

"It's- irrational, really, but I just don't like the idea of that one taking any more interest in me. I feel like a zoo exhibit when she's around."

"Oh," she says, "All right. If it will make you more comfortable, I won't do anything further to draw attention to you by Twilight."

"Thanks, Flutters!" Am I beaming? I think I'm beaming.

"Oh, did like you like your dinner?"

Truth be told, ever since turning up here, I've been restricted to an herbivore's diet and it's starting to make me a little cranky. I can't even get bacon here. (I miss bacon…!) Fluttershy gave me something she claimed was bacon, but I later learned that it was made of hay. It was less than satisfactory. The best source of protein I can get is in legumes, which are plentiful here. Mind you, as good as a handful of lightly salted almonds are, I still miss a medium well hamburger, extra lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, and onions, with extra sharp cheddar cheese and a little Miracle Whip thrown on for taste.

"It's good. I like that added peanuts in this time. I like it when my salad has some extra crunch in it!"

I really do. Croutons are nice, but some peanuts, almonds, and macadamia nuts give a salad some well deserved texture.

"I glad you like. Would You like more?"

"Yes, please! And could you add some almonds? I miss almonds."

"Sure!" Fluttershy is now adding in my almonds.

Oh, yeah, that's the ticket! It may not be a medium rare hamburger or even a deep dish three meat pizza, but it is delicious and nutritious. I could never eat like this at home. Mainly because fresh veggies and fruits are kinda outta my budgetary range.

"Mmmmmmmm, so good!"

*Knock, knock, knock!*

"Oh, that must be Twilight!'

HRGGHGH! Ack, I nearly choked on my salad! Seriously, there needs to be a clock in here so I can time it is when Sparky gets here!! I mouth to Fluttershy to keep at the door until I can make myself "presentable."

"Hello, Fluttershy!"

"Hi, Twilight! Coming to check in on your patient?"

"Yes, I am. Is he awake?"

"Yes, he's right here."

I have to hastily lay down on the sofa where I've spent the better part of this week. Clopping hooves tell me that Fluttershy and her friend are approaching. Time for a little dog and pony show… Uh, no pun intended.

"So, has he made any progress lately?" That's Twilight speaking.

Fluttershy answers, "Oh, yes! He can sit up now with hardly any pain. And he's now feeding himself, although I don't think he can adapt so easily to hooffoods."

"So, how has he been eating?" Twilight again.

"Uh…"

No, don't tell her Fluttershy! Don't tell her I showed you how to make a fork!!

"Well, he was able to break a piece of the floorboards off and uses that to scoop up his food. It's so cute!"

PHEW! That was quite a cover there, Flutters! I just hope I hid my fork well enough where Twilight doesn't see it…

More from Twilight, "Wow! He's recovered that much manual dexterity?!"

"Y-yes!" Fluttershy answers.

Oh, no, she's cracking…!

"Well, that is a development! Let me take a look at him."

OWOWOW! She's pulling the bandages on my arm!!

"Hmm… The burns are improving… I think I see some skin here… Still, there's too much tissue damage that hasn't fully regenerated. Fluttershy, can you go into my saddlebag and fetch me that burn salve?"

I hear a rustling of canvas and see my hostess face first into a set of purple saddlebags. She was being LITERAL?!

"Hear you go, Twilight."

ERGH! Oh, shit, this stuff hurts worse then when the damaged was exposed!! Is this stuff made of salt, lemon juice and SANDPAPER?!?!

Twilight coos, "There you go…"

I am not a child, Twilight Sparkle, and I do not appreciate the condescending tone.

"There, doesn't that feel better?" Sparky asks.

No, it does NOT. Honestly, if Sparklebutt were anymore condescending, she'd give Dr. Sheldon Cooper a run for his money.

"I don't think he likes that." Fluttershy says.

Thank you, Flutters! Finally, the voice of reason.

Twilight says to Flutters, "What are talking about, Fluttershy? He's just a mindless human."

Wait, you wanna run that by me again?

"What do you mean?" Fluttershy asks.

"Well, from what my research tells me, humans are, well to put it delicately, kind of dumb." That's how Twilight responds.

I- don't know how to respond to that… Of, course, Sparklebutt isn't done explaining.

"They have a very rudimentary brain. They mostly operate on a sub-equine level of comprehension. There have been some studies suggesting humans are capable of some rather sophisticated problem solving skills, but it hasn't been independently verified." It's like the Sparks-alot is a damn encyclopedia.

Why you little… daft… dozy… BITCH!

"In any case, I don't honestly think he knows what's going here. Now let me cast this last healing spell…"

OHMYFUCKINGMTOHER! WHATINTHEFLYINGDUCKFUCKINGHELLISTHIS?!?!?!?!

"There, all done!" Sparky sounds proud of herself.

Fluttershy chimes in, "Uh, Twilight?"

"Hmm?"

Flutters continues, "I-if… If he, the human I mean, were to show some intelligence, would that- change the way you deal… w-w-with him?"

Twilight answers back, "Oh, Fluttershy… You and I both know that humans are incapable of intelligent thought. Oh, wow, look at the time! I should get going. Spike is probably waiting for me. Make sure to check that bandage of his twice a day and don't let him wander away. Celestia help us if he wonders into town!"

The door closes softly and I hear hoof falls fading away in the distance. As per an agreement made earlier, Fluttershy watches Twilight from a window. When it's clear that she's gone, she waves one of her wings, giving me the all clear. I sit up, retrieve my fork, but now I'm in such a rage I don't know if I can think straight.

"Stevie…" Fluttershy looks concerned. Maybe she should be.

"That- self-important, stuck-up, insufferable KNOW-IT-ALL!"

5 Savage Beasts

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My mood so far: dark, seething, inconsolable, berserk.

You know, it was bad enough that Twilight dismisses the idea of humans have any thought higher than where to take a shit or when to go to sleep, but call us "mindless?" Fuck and no. This is not cool.

Fluttershy asks me, "Stevie? Is everything okay?"

"No, it isn't Fluttershy, but thank you for asking."

My tone must be too dark; I see Fluttershy slink away from me. It's not the most effective tactic though it is adorable when she tries to hide herself behind her mane. Need to calm down… I did ask Flutters to keep my intellect on the down low, so it's much my fault as it is Twilight's. That's right, use your reason… Tame that monster temper of yours…

"I'm sorry, Fluttershy. I asked you to participate in that deception, so I only have myself to blame for Twilight's- ignorance."

"A-are y-y-you s-sure?" Her voice is shakey.

I nod, "Don't have a clue where she gets her data, but it seems outmoded to me."

Flutters tells me, "A-actually, I saw some of the books she read about humans. They're the latest ones available. They were only published last year."

"You don't say now?"

Fluttershy nods.

"So, humans are rather common 'round here?"

A shake of her head, "Not really. Humans are exceptionally rare. The last tribe of them was found in hills around Canterlot Mountain, but that was more than eight hundred years ago."

"Anybody know what happen to them?"

Flutters answers is, "Nopony knows. It's believed they may have fled into the wilderness, but nopony can say where exactly."

"Let me guess: the last reported sightings of Humans here was rather sketchy."

Another nod, "They were last seen by the Bridle River, close to Bridle Shores. Accounts of the encounter say they were foraging for food."

"And after that, nothing?"

One more nod, "There hasn't been a sighting since."

So, humans haven't been seen in Equestria for nearly a millennium? So, my presence here, if here is a real state of being, is what? Ominous? Curious? Harbinger of things to come? Uh, too many questions, too few answers.

"You know what, Flutters? It doesn't matter. I mean, I'm one human with an intellect to rival most ponies here, right? So what? As soon as I can back on my feet, I'm gone. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can get back home. Luckier still, if I can find any of my fellow passengers. Although…"

"Although, what?" Fluttershy sounds apprehensive.

"Although, I'm more than certain that they're dead. An explosion like THAT is bound to send souls to Heaven."

Hello, birds! Can you do me a solid and SHUT THE FUCK UP?! Pleaseandthankyou! Christ, I hate mornings. And who is this lunatic hanging on the bell this morning? Don't they know what time it is? Uh, I don't even know if Fluttershy is up yet. I wonder… Huh, when the door get opened?

"Hello there!"

Fuck, it's Sparklebutt.

"How are we doing this morning?"

I give a mocking smile (this immediately unnerves her) and reply, "In desperate need of caffeine and bacon. You?"

Uh-oh.

Twilight stammers, "Y-you-"

"Uh, Flutters? Twilight is here!"

Sparky is looking rather incredulous now, "But you- You can't-"

I wave at the purple phenomenon idling in the doorway. "Hey, Sparkle."

"Huh?"

"♪I am the very model of a modern Major-General, I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral, I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical, From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical…♫"

Annnnnnd down goes Twilight!

Fluttershy's voice comes form the stairway, "Stevie?"

"Down here!" I answer back.

"Did you say- TWILIGHT!"

I can't help laughing! I know that Flutters is very protective of all her friends, but the sight of a passed out Twilight is just too rich.

"Did I break her?" Still can't stop laughing.

Sternly, Fluttershy says, "This isn't funny!"

"You are quite correct, Fluttershy."

Huh? Who said that?

"Discord?"

I'm blinded by a flash and when I can finally see again, I get a vision that in any other state would send my gibbering. There's a way of describing the creature that appears in Fluttershy's living room, but I'm at a loss of how to do it. This Discord character… it's as if God was aiming to make something like a platypus but failed to read the instructions properly. I keep looking for seems or sutures on the guy.

"In the flesh! And might I say, a stunned Twilight isn't funny. IT'S HILARIOUS!"

That laugh…!

"Q?"

Wiping away a tear, this Discord looks at me and whistles. "Welly, welly, welly, well! What do we have here?"

"That depends… Did you just quote 'A Clockwork Orange?'" Have I gone completely insane now?

"I'm not sure; did I?"

I see Fluttershy and I feel my heart stop. She is not happy with is going on right now…

"Discord! It is not funny in the slightest that Twilight fainted! She is your friend. And Steven, you shouldn't have frightened Twilight like that!" she chides.

"I'm sorry…" Discord and I say that simultaneously.

"As you should be."

"Mommy… Is it the Summer Sun Celebration yet?"

Yeah, I think I went a little overboard with Twilight there. I still don't know what Discord/Q is still smiling about.

"Is Twilight gonna be okay, Flutters?"

Fluttershy answers me, "She's fine. I think she's just in shock."

"That's funny; she doesn't look electrocuted to me." Discord pipes in.

Stupid chimera… "Seriously?"

The chimera shoots back, "Hey, don't get mad at me; I just work here."

"Right…" I bet jokes aren't all you do, stupid chimera.

Oh, Flutters is employing The Stare again. This time, thankfully, not at me.

"DISCORD!"

"Ahh…"

Wow, just when I thought I couldn't witness a scarier a sight than Fluttershy angry, out comes this. She's like a certain ginger lass I know…

"You should know better than to poke fun at somepony! By Celestia's Horn, you're more than a thousand years old! Start acting like it!!"

"ImsosorryFluttershyitwonthappenpleaseohpleaseohplasestopstaringatmelikethat…" Discords says in a rush.

"Good. And YOU!"

Oh, shit…!

"You should be ashamed of yourself! You act intelligent but when it comes down to it, you're no better than Discord! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'M NOT WORTHY! I'M NOT WORTHY! I'M NOT WORTHY!" I cannot believe I just did that.

"And?" she implores.

"I WILL NEVER ACT LIKE A SPOILED BRAT OR A POMPOUS IMMATURE WANKER AGAIN!"

"That's better."

Oh, thank the Maker, she's smiling again.

"Discord, will you help me get Twilight into a chair, please."

"Y-yes, Fluttershy."

Serenity now…

6 Tripping Major Ballsack

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Twilight is now resting on what I can only generously call a lounge chair. Discord is very careful to keep her from jostling around too much. Flutters is in the kitchen making some tea while her patchwork friend is fanning the unconscious purple unicorn. I was told to behave myself. I've interpreted that to mean, "Don't move, don't speak, don't even breath while Fluttershy is out of the room." Discord's insistence on making funny faces is testing my resolve to obey. I bet Caitlin and Flutters would get along. She's the only woman that could ever make me so damn fearful for my life…

"So you're just going to ignore me, is that it?" Discord asks.

No, Discord, I'm to refuse to acknowledge your antics. By the way, THAT face is nothing compared to "see food."

"Oh, come on! That should have at least given you a fit of giggles!"

Sorry, Discy, no dice. I'm behaving myself, just like Fluttershy said. (Oh, if Caty could see me now… I can practically hear the bullwhip crack now.)

"What about this?"

Cute, but I've seen better. Jesus, Flutters, how long does it take to make TEA?!

"Ugh, what happened?" ALERT! ALERT! The purple people-eater pony has revived!

"Ah, Princess Twilight! Did you have a good nap?" Discord implores.

"Discord? Wait, what's going on?" she asks.

That is what I wanna know. Did the chimera just call Twilight "Princess?"

Fluttershy calls out from the kitchen "Oh, Twilight, you're awake!"

"That she is." I say.

Twilight looks from Fluttershy then to me before asking, "Can I get some explanations please?"

"Oh. Well…" starts Flutters.

Discord injects with, "From what I've seen, Your Highness, it appears Fluttershy's guest is more than he appears."

Twilight looks to Fluttershy, then to Discy, then to me. I'm shooting glances at Flutters, hoping my face says something of the order, May I please say something now?

"Fluttershy, what does Discord mean by that?" Twilight asks.

"Well, uh, you see, uh…"

"Oh, come out with it Fluttershy! It's not that she wouldn't figure it out eventually." Discord demands.

Twilight moans, "Please, Discord, I think…"

"If I may interrupt?"

All eyes fall on me now. I can see a look of consternation from Fluttershy, but I choose to disregard it. Instead, I face Twilight and make the decision to reveal my sapience.

"He talks?" Twilight gasps.

I respond thus, "Why, yes, I do. And before your untimely fainting spell, I was demonstrating my measure of intelligence, too."

"HE TALKS?!" Twilight yells.

I wince from the volume, saying, "OW! The volume, if you please! It's bad enough when your 'spells' light up my every pain receptor… Also, OBJECTION: entering facts not in evidence."

"HOW CAN YOU TALK?! HUMANS DON'T TALK!" Twilight screams.

I'm groaning as I reply, "Argh! Again, volume, Sparklebutt! And for your information, I've been told I'm a very eloquent orator. I reinstate my objection."

"This isn't happening…" Sparky says.

Fluttershy asks, "Twilight, are you okay?"

Discord offers his opinion: "It seems the Princess is out of sorts."

"Out of sorts" is something of an understatement. To my eyes, this "princess" is showing signs of a psychotic break.

"H-how…?" Twilight stammers.

"Hey, you're guess is as good as mine, Sparky. The current theory is that I'm not from around here, so I have a measure of sapience above what is commonly thought to be baseline in this world." I say.

Heh-heh, man I do not know where I pulled THAT outta my ass!

"Uh, Stevie?" Fluttershy inquires.

"IT HAS A NAME?!" Twilight is yelling again.

"Okay, what have I said in regards to volume? Man…"

Undeterred, Fluttershy asks, "Stevie, can you tell me what 'sapience' is?"

"Oh, that? Why?"

It's not Flutters who replies, but Twilight, "I tell you why, Mr. Human. That term isn't a pony word."

"Ah, I see. Now riddle me this, 'Princess,' do you know what sapience means?"

"Uh…" I can see Twilight flush with embarrassment.

"I bet you ten bits she has no clue." Discord whispers in my ear.

"Wasn't talking to you, John deLancie's ghost." I rebuke.

"Who?" questions Discord.

"Never you mind, Discy. So, Sparky, care to give us a guess?"

"Uh, sapience? Uh… Could I have some context?" Answering a question with a question, Twilight? Puh-lease!

"Sorry, Ms. Sheepishly-Trying-to-Cheat-on-the-Quiz. Better luck next time!"

"I don't… What does it matter?! You. Are not. Supposed. TO EXIST!" Twilight bellows.

"And yet, here I am. Flutters can tell ya; she and I have many a wonderful conversation between your visits."

Infuriated, Twilight inquires, "So, what does 'sapience' mean?"

I'm kinda shaky on the answer, "Well… It's a bit difficult to give an accurate description… For me, sapience is the measure by which an animal, human or otherwise, is weighed to having the necessary intelligence for creating societies, civilizations, devising technologies, and generally proving how smart they are."

"That sounds like a rather broad definition." Twilight deadpans.

"It is, Sparky, you don't mind if I call you that?, but the term has a myriad of definitions and matching criteria. What I gave you is a layman's version of the term."

"That still doesn't explain how you can talk." Twilight demands.

Fluttershy counters, "Stevie isn't just any old human. He's something different from the humans last seen eight hundred years ago!"

"You sound excited about this, Fluttershy." Twilight zings.

Flutters fires back, "Well, why wouldn't I, Twilight? It's a new species of critter that can talk! I don't even have to learn his language because he speaks Equuish so fluently."

Wait, I'm speaking English. What in the flying fuck is Equuish?

"But doesn't that disturb you JUST a little bit?" questions Twilight.

"Why?" Flutters asks.

Twilight lamely starts, "Humans- talking-"

Twilight is sputtering. Methinks she doth protest too much. It's annoying that Discord is laughing hysterically through all of this. It is not that funny. Also, that twitching eye Twilight now has is really freaky.

Breaking back into the conversation, I say, "Tell you what. Let's forget that last half hour or so of this day ever happened and let's start over. Hi, my name's Steven, I just survived an explosive airplane accident, and I'm pretty sure all you pastel colored miniature equines are the result of me tripping major ball-sack on some high powered painkillers. Or maybe I'm comatose and my mind is on walkabout in fantasyland; how in the fuck would I know? It is a pleasure to meet you."

I hold out my hand and Twilight gives me a dubious look.

"Go head, shake it. My arms not gonna stay out there forever." I add.

Twilight's hooves wrap around my outstretched hand, "H-hello. I'm Princess Twilight Sparkle, my friends call me Twilight, I'm a student of Princess Celestia and you are seriously freaking me out."

I inquire, "Another princess? Jesus, Flutters, just how many monarchs do you have around here?"

"I guess it's time that we fill you in a little bit…" Fluttershy replies.

Oh, yes, Flutters, I need mucho filler here.

Twilight adds, "By the way, Steven is it?, I don't answer to Sparky, Sparks, or Sparklebutt."

Oh, come on!

7 Little Lambs Eat Ivy

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I don't drink tea. I mean, I get that the drink can have a calming effect on people (and ponies it seems) but so does a two-by-four to the back of the head. Which made the arduous task of absorbing a summarized ten millennium of pony history all that much harder. I could have a used a Monster or even a couple cans of Full Throttle to get through that lecture. To sum up, this is what I earned: the land now known as Equestria was once ruled by Discord, but before he was overthrown, the three pony tribes claimed this land as their own.

Discy eventually went to town on them and sisters Celestia and Luna sought out the Elements of Harmony and used them to hand him his ass, petrifying him; things were good for a while until Luna got bit by a certain green eyed monster and Celestia banished her to the moon for ten centuries. (And here I thought my brother and I played rough when were we busting each others balls and kicking each other in the family jewels. Ouch!)

Fast forward a few hundred years and Luna comes back, as mad as ever; Twilight and her best friends reclaim the Elements and restore Luna to sanity, defeat a recalcitrant Discord, destroy the fiend known as King Sombra, and thwart a Changeling invasion (not necessarily in that order.) In time, Twilight became a Princess, Discord's last failed scheme for power bore fruit (literally), and the Elements were returned to The Tree of Harmony where The Sister Princesses retrieved them more than a thousand years ago.

I'm lucky that I'm a quick study or else most of this would gone over my head. (I can hear Jeff Dunham's Peanut now.) Anyway, I'm pretty much all caught up when Twilight starts would is arguably a long overdue interrogation. Damn it…! I was hoping to avoid a long, drawn out discussion of my arrival here but Twilight is an inquisitive little mare. I don't really think I'll be much help. From the moment of the explosion to the moment I regained semi-consciousness in the Everfree, there's this big blank space. Out of sight, out of mind…

Can I get the last three hours back, please? Holy shit, that was an ordeal! I don't think I can expound on myself, or humanity for that matter. I don't know what she thinks she can get out of me. She's keeps pressing me for more and I can't give anymore. I'm tapped out and this purple inquisition monster keeps pressing. Serenity now…!

"Oh, gosh, Twilight, I didn't know it was getting so late." Fluttershy laments.

Twilight remarks, "Oh, yeah, look at that… It's pretty far into the afternoon."

"However did we miss lunch?" pipes in Discord.

I chime, "Gee, I dunno, Discord. Between your tomfoolery and Twilight's insatiable curiosity, it's difficult to say who wasted more time."

Flutters reprimands, "Stevie!"

Those eyes! Christ, Fluttershy could make the Devil himself cringe in fear!

Flutters asks, "Is anypony hungry? I think I still have some of Applejack's apple brown Betties. I-if you wanted something…"

Twilight says, "Ooo, those sound good. Can I have two?"

"Sure, Twilight! Discord, Stevie?"

Discord replies, "May I have a dozen, Friend Fluttershy?"

"If Discy hasn't hoarded them all, may I have two please? And a glass of water. Cottonmouth is hitting me something awful." I ask.

"You could have asked for tea, you know." Twilight chides.

"I don't drink tea." I inform Twilight.

"Ugghhh!"

"There's one last thing I want to clear before I leave, if you don't mind." Twilight says.

Le sigh.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"You said earlier that my healing spell hurt you. What did you mean by that?" Twilight inquires.

My answer is, "I don't think I can be any clearer about that. When you used your- 'spells,' I felt pain unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's a root canal without Novocaine multiplied by three hundred."

"That's odd…" Twilight muses.

"How do you figure, Twilight?"

"A healing spell, any curative spell, would nullify any pain the recipient had." Twilight informs me.

To which I say, "Well, it didn't do that for me."

Fluttershy comments, "The strangest thing is, your wounds are healing very well, Stevie. I've never seen a pony heal from so many injuries so quickly, with or without healing spells. Don't you agree, Twilight?"

"Yes, I do. I've never seen anypony regenerate that fast before…" Twilight says.

"Maybe I'm just lucky?" I add weakly.

"Luck? I don't believe in luck." Twilight says sternly.

"I sense a 'Star Wars' reference in the offing…" I offer as an aside.

"What?"

"Sorry, I have a penchant for non sequitur." I apologize.

*Thump!*

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Twilight asks.

"I thought I heard-"

*Thump!*

"Oh, come on, Flutters, please don't tell me you didn't hear that?"

"I think I heard something…" Flutters starts.

Twilight asks, "Where is that coming from?"

"Good question, your Highness…" says Discord.

"You don't have to call me tha-" Twilight begins.

*Thump!*

Louder this time. Like something smacking glass… "Flutters, do you think Harry's come back?"

Fluttershy answers, "Uh, no. He's usually down by his stream picking up fish at this hour."

*Thump!*

"Oh my, it looks like you have company, Fluttershy old pal." Discord croons.

"Discord…!" Twilight sternly says.

*THUMP!*

"Was that at the back door?" Fluttershy asks.

*CRASH!*

If my ears do not deceive me, I hear the shuffling of feet. Not hooves, feet. Something is lumbering rather quickly through Flutters kitchen… Holy, shit… That's a human, if I'm not mistaken, lurching round the door frame to the kitchen. He does not look well. No, not well at all. One might even say he's gone rabid or something.

Fluttershy yells, "EVERYPONY RUN!"

Twilight takes to wing and is dashing toward the back of the room; Flutters is making a beeline for the stairs. She looks back at me with an imploring look.

"I wish I could!" I got half a leg missing; how can I run?

Hey, wait-a-minute- Isn't that the guy in 34 D? Yeah, I remember him. Is that a Federal Aviation Administration badge? Dude, this guy is a sky marshal! There's something wrong with him… Oh, shit, he's armed!

*Click! Click! Click!*

He's- trying to shoot us? What the-? Oh, man his eyes! The pupils are dilated but that's not the most troubling thing about him. The whites of his eyes, the sclera, they're bloodshot. Like, really bloodshot, as if a few capillaries have burst and are hemorrhaging.

"What is it?!" Twilight shouts.

I answer, "He's a sky marshal! He's one of the people on the plane! My plane!! He's off, though. Like he's-"

He throws- something… Whoa! I barely missed his pistol…! HIS PISTOL!

"Flutters, Twilight, keep out of his reach! I'm gonna try something-"

"Easier said than done, Steven!" Fluttershy replies.

"Discord, can you distract him? Discord?!"

Go figure; that tosser has taken a powder. Got to get to that gun…

"AGH!"

Fluttershy?! No! The sky marshal has her by a wing… He's trying to tear her feathers out…! Where did that thing go? Got it-!

"HEY, ASSHOLE!"

I see the officer swing Flutters away as he turns in my direction…

"SAY HELLO TO DARKNESS, MY OLD FRIEND!'"

*BLAM! BLAM!*

The report of the pistol is deafening, to put it mildly, in Fluttershy's cottage. Every living thing still inside the cottage winces from the noise. I don't have much experience with firearms, save what I've read from American Handgunner and the occasional Guns & Ammo magazine; I've never even fired a pistol before. You wouldn't know it by the effort I just put up. The first shot hit the sky marshal in the chest, just above his heart, most likely passing his through his Superior Vena Cava. The second hit him between the eyes. His grey matter splatters out the back of his head. He falls to the floor, all the life in him gone. The dude is dead… Shit, I just killed a guy!

"Holy fuck…"

My lunch will not be staying down this afternoon…

8 If I Could Do It All Over Again, I'd Take The Blue Pill

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Huh. This is odd. I'm back in the plane but I'm also not in the plane. When did things go third person? I'm looking at myself as the plane lurches from side to side. There goes Ms. Daft Cunt, falling in the aisle. Huh, I don't seem to remember that part… Oh, hold on. Yeah, that makes more sense. That's why Ms. Cunt went flying when she did. And Mr. Dozy Prat? He fell in just behind her… Oooo, that had to hurt! Man, this would be so funny if I didn't know what comes next. The pretty brunette, she's out cold now. I think her name is Janice, but I'm not sure.

Oh, wait, here it comes- And there it goes! The engine just exploded. Lo and behold, there's more to see this time around! Everything is moving like a movie set in frame-by-frame mode. There's the fuselage blowing backward. I see myself get lifted up and out of my seat. That's a revelation in and of itself. Huh, what is the filmy stuff covering me? Whatever it is, it's blocking a good deal of shrapnel… Ouch! Man, even in this disembodied, omnipresent state, I can feel it when that engine turbine blade tears through my leg… That's odd, though, because it looks like it passes through my thigh and not my calf. Huh.

I can see the fire whip around wild at 35,000 feet. That film of mine doesn't protect me from that. In this frame-by-frame mode, I can see the skin redden, bubble, then blacken as the flames lick at it. Oh, what is this? A SECOND explosion? Didn't see that coming. Is that why my landing in Equestria was littered with torn appendages? Must be, because I see so many displaced body parts to be nothing but a high powered explosion. Funny, I don't seem to be too concerned about things. I actually look kinda at peace. Hey, wait a minute- What is…? Where did that black hole looking thing come from?

My right arm feels heavy. Not sure why… When did I pass out? The last thing I remember was looking at a crazed man and shouting. There was a noise- FUCKING SHIT, I JUST SHOT A MAN! I FUCKING KILLED HIM TO DEATH!

"YUKKA FOOB MOG! GRUG PUBBAWUP ZINK WATTOOM GAZORK! GRIZZLE SNORK! CHUMBLE SPUZZ!"

"Whoa now, feller, easy does it!" A Southern accent-? No, the emphasis is all off. There's a bit of Tennessee twang in it, but from the Ozark region. It's no Southern Drawl I know.

"Wazza-?"

"Stevie!" That sounds like Fluttershy.

Golden forelegs wrap my neck. It's okay, I'm okay. At least I think I am.

"Flutters?"

"Oh, you had us so worried!" The golden Pegasus says.

"Us?"

I look around and several things have changed while I was out to lunch. I see Twilight and that's a slight relief, but I also notice several ponies in the room. And why is there shelves and shelves of books in Fluttershy's cottage? I'm pretty sure she didn't have a study like this…

"Y'all alright, sugarcube?"

It's The Tennessee Volunteer again. I look around and all the ponies, and what looks like a Komodo dragon, giving me concerned looks. When did they get here?

"Dunno. I was having a- night- mare?"

When did I leave Fluttershy's house?

"Where am I?"

"You're in my home, Steven." Twilight informs me.

"You're- home, Twilight?"

The purple princess nods, "Yes."

"You live in a library? That is so you!"

"Stevie…" Flutters nags.

"Sorry, Flutters. So, uh, why am I here? Why are you all here?"

"You mean you don't remember?" The inquisitor is a mare I haven't met before. She has a New Englander accent.

"Remember-?" I twirl my pointer finger, trying to move the conversation along.

"That crazed human, the metal thing in your- hooves…" The New Englander says.

I look down at my arm and sure enough, the pistol is still there. My gorge rises as I recall the memory. I let the weapon fall; it clunks loudly on the wooden floor.

"I have to say, dahling, that if you've forgotten what happened an hour ago, I would feel very slighted. Twilight, myself, and little Spikey-Wikey spent an ETERNITY cleaning up the mess you left behind." The New Englander reminds me.

"Oh, right, that." I sat flatly. I'm feeling equal parts guilty and queasy about the shooting.

Fluttershy interjects, "Oh, Twilight! We haven't introduced the rest of the girls yet, have we?"

Twilight replies, "You're right, we haven't. Steven, would you like to meet our BMFFs?"

"Uh, sure." I have no idea what BMFFs mean, other than it being a comic book onomatopoeia.

I see wide grin form on Fluttershy's face and she floats back to Twilight for I assume is now a meet-and-greet.

"Well, you know Fluttershy and myself. So, little me start with this little guy," she points at the Komodo dragon, "This is Spike…"

The mulberry drake waves a taloned hand, "Hi!" The little fellow is has a rosela in his cheeks. Gotta wonder if it's from being in proximity of the snowy mare to his left.

"Wassup?" I reply.

"Over here is Rarity…"

"Scarcity," unicorn mare, a beautiful cobalt mane, diamond-themed brand on her flank. The New Englander; how charming.

"Good afternoon."

"Caio, bella." Rarity blushes a little at that.

"This is Applejack…"

"Applesmack," normal pony mare, blonde mane in a plait, wears a Stetson, has an apple trio branding. The Volunteer.

"Hey, there!' cries the gamboge mare in a Stetson.

"Howdy!" My Texas drawl returns in full force.

"This is Rainbow Dash…"

"Danish Slash," sky blue pegasus, chromatic mane, thunderhead -and-prismatic-lighting-bolt brand. She has a Brooklyn lilt.

"Hiya!" crows the other Pegasus in the room, who bears a striking semblance to a racing horse.

"How you doin'?" Where in the fuck did I pull out Joey Tribbiani?

"And this here is Pinky Pie!"

"Punkie Pipe," true to her name, the mare is pink, from her hooves to her mane. She is bouncing excitedly and I can't tell if she's nervous or plain energetic. Her brand is threesome of colored balloons.

"Hihihi! I'mPinkiePieandIlovemeetingnewponies! Doyoulikecake? Ilovecake! Ooo,Ihaven'tthrownyouapartyyet! Onceyou'reallbetter,I'llthowyouawelcometoPonyville,Thankyouforsavingmyfriendsparty!! Doyoulikechocolate? Doya? Doya?! Oh,maybeIcanmakeyouaquadruplelayerchocolatecakewithchocolatefrosting!!! Oh,Iamsoexcited! Hey,doyouwannabuildasnowman?"

I blink, mostly out of confusion. The rush of words is nigh incomprehensible to me. It's wonder anyone else can understand the raspberry mare.

"Can you say that again, but with a break between words? And questions?"

"Oooo, this is so EXCITING!" Pinkie Pie croons.

Applejack says, "You'll have t' forgive Pinkie Pie. She's really excitable."

"You don't say." I deadpan.

Twilight then says, "Well, that's everyone. Why don't you introduce yourself, Steven?"

"Uh, sure. My name is Steven, I'm 35, single, I don't know how I got here, but I believe it was the end result of an airplane explosion. I, uh, I work as a C.I.S. Specialist for a regional bank; I like the smell of lemons and I have a major sweet tooth."

"♪And chocolate?♫" Pinkie Pie croons.

"Chocolate is made of epic."

"Ooooo!" Pinkie looks like she's about to explode.

"I gotta question." Rainbow Dash looks inquisitive.

"Shoot."

"What's an 'airplane.'" Rainbow asks.

"An- Okay, uh, an airplane is a large, pressurized conveyance that takes people cross country, and in a lot of cases across continents, by way of air. It uses huge jet engines to move the multi-ton machine at speeds exceeding three hundred miles an air. It's about the safest way to travel, relatively speaking."

Dash seems confused, "What?!"

"Well, humans can't fly, so we use airplanes to do so. There's a whole science to it all."

"Well, that is is- fascinating, dahling."

"Unconvinced, Rarity?"

"Well, in a word, yes. Humans don't have the intellect to devise such a machine." Rarity says.

"You're certain of this?" I ask.

"Well, after meeting you, not so much," she admits, "by the by, what exactly is a 'see eye es specialist.'"

"Ever heard a computer?" I ask.

Rarity shakes her in the negative.

"That's okay," I say, "I don't wanna give you information overload."

"Come to think of it," Rainbow says, "nothing you've said seems real. It all sounds a little- made up."

I add, "The feeling is mutual. I'm not completely convinced this is all for real. Back where I come from, ponies don't talk. They're typically service animals. Don't get my started on the pony rides at a petting zoo; that just blow your little minds." All the mares in the room pale a little at that, even though I'm not sure how the albaster rarity is capable of making that happen, "Ponies also don't they make homes or read books. I was certain a few days ago this was all some scene my mind was generating as I plummeted to my death. Or that it was some drug-induced fantasy while I lay comatose in an ICU ward. I do have a very active imagination…"

"Imaginary are we?" Rainbow Dash growls, "I'll show you what's imaginary!"

As her name implies, Dash is on me in a wink. One of her hooves comes down on my head.

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK?!" I cry out.

I see all the ponies and Spike jump backwards. All except Pinkie Pie, who is fascinated by what I have in my hand.

"Steven, you need to put. That. Down!" Twilight implores.

"What are you-?"

When- when did the pistol get in my hand? I can't be that fast!

"How-?"

Twilight speaks soothingly but firmly, "Just. Put it. Down."

Twilight is remarkably calm during this. I, for one, am starting to suffer a panic attack. I should put the gun down, though. It's a pretty good pistol. A SIG/Sauer P226, looks to be government issue. I wish I know more about operating one of these; I could make sure it doesn't get used against my benefactors here. Hmm, is that the safety-? No, that's the magazine release. I hear it drop with a *THUNK!* to the floor. Pinkie is mesmerized by it. So, is this it-? No, that should be the breakdown lever…

You know, I should make sure there isn't a round in the chamber. Twilight was right about my left arm; as I bring to grasp the checkering on the back of the pistol's slide, I can barely feel the cool metal or the friction of the checkering. Still, I grip it, rack the slide and a round pops out. I have enough time to see the stamp around the pressure plate: WIN 9MM. This too falls to the floor and Pinkie scoops it up. She's like a raven that way, fascinated by shiny objects. My mind can't comprehend how she's capable of scooping up anything with hooves; an inquiry for another day, methinks. I place the gun down and look expectantly at my hostesses.

"It's all good now; you can loosen your sphincters."

"How did you do that, dahling?" Rarity asks.

"Do- what?"

"That thing- It was on tha floor an' then it flew to yer- hoof?" Applejack says.

"Hand, actually. And to answer your question, Rarity, I do not know how I did that."

"Just what exactly is that thing?" Twilight inquires.

"It's a pistol; the sky marshal I- killed, was wearing it."

Dash pipes in, "That reminds me: Just what happened at Fluttershy's there, Stevie?"

"Uh, Dashie-"

"Rainbow, no one, and I mean, NO ONE, calls me 'Stevie.' As they say where I come from, 'Them be fightin' words.' Flutters is a lone exception."

"Oookaaaaay…" Dash replies.

"As for what happened at the cottage…" I sigh, "A human, like myself, crashed into Fluttershy's place. He was trying to kill us, but his pistol misfired. Then he went after Fluttershy and nearly tore her wings off. If I hadn't found his weapon and used it, you'd be writing Flutters epitaph."

"Is that why there so much- gore?" Rarity questions.

"I guess, Rarity. I got lucky; I've never fired a pistol before except in video games. I've only ever fired a rifle and I was a kid back then. Uh, a foal to you; a colt."

"But why did it work for you when the- sky marshal, couldn't?" Twilight implores.

"Truth be told, Twilight, your guess is as good as mine."

"Well, it seems humans are as barbaric as the old mares tale say they are." Rarity moans.

"Rarity, do me a solid and don't be talking shit you don't understand."

"Well I never-! Such coarse language! It's uncouth!" Rarity

Fluttershy implores with her friend, "Rarity, Stevie just went through a very traumatic experience. All these questions and the strangeness of our world must be overwhelming him."

"Well said, Flutters."

"True as that may be," Twilight adds icily, "you pose a threat."

"Yeah, you tell 'im, Twilight!" RD cheers.

"When have I ever- Flutters, your wing!"

My hostess of late has a bandage wrapped around her right wing and she seems grounded for now. How did I not notice that before?

"It's okay. Doctor Remedial says I should fine in a couple of days." Fluttershy responds.

"But your wing… Does it hurt?"

Flutters shrugs, saying, "It's kinda sore and the bandages are really tight, but it's fine."

I breathe sigh of relief.

"Girls, can we talk?" Pinkie calls.

In all this time, Pinkie Pie hasn't really said anything. I gotta wonder what she has to say. The ponies, including Spike, gather in a huddle. I can scarcely hear what discussed but when they break, I can see a look of resignation in Twilight's eyes.

"Okay, Steven, I was planning on writing to Princess Celestia about you and this- pistol of yours." Twilight says, "Instead, I'm going to let you stay here in Ponyville. Make no mistake; you will be under constant watch. One false move, and I'll have the Solar Guard down on you in a heafbeat."

"Okay…"

I wonder if Neo ever regretted not taking the blue pill…

9 Cart Before the Horse

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"Seriously, Dash, I can do this on my own."

It had been a few days since the disastrous Golden Oak meeting. To facilitate my mobility while in town, Twilight had made me a wheelchair. It was rather simplistic but it served its purpose. In a few days time, I would have custom made crutches ordered from a medical supply store in Canterlot. Until then, I was wheel bound and Rainbow Dash had appointed herself my official chair pusher. I protested this, numerous times, but it fell on deaf ears. Dash was adamant about helping me out, even if I was perfectly capable of wheeling myself about town. (Even with my infuriatingly weak arms.)

"No can do, Steve." Dash says, "As the Element of Loyalty, and a reserve member of the Wonderbolts, it's my duty to see you safely to your destination."

"If this is about that hoof to the head, I told you, we're cool…"

"It's more than just that. Egghead." RD chides.

"Run that by me again?"

She answers, "Well, ever since that- trick you pulled, I wondered what other things you can do. Those old fairy tales never mentioned what humans can do. They just mentioned that they were without reason and acted purely of their desires."

"And you wanna prove them wrong?"

"Exactly!" RD cheers.

"Much as I hate to burst your bubble, Dash, but that's a pretty accurate, if generalized, assessment of the Human Race."

"Yeah, so?" Dash challenges.

"All I'm saying is," I rebuke, "I am not a pet and I am not helpless. As for how the gun ended up in my hand, that is a mystery even unto myself."

"Whatever, Mr. Egghead." Dash banters back.

"Rather be an egghead than a thick skull…"

"What?"

I sigh, "Can we just get to Sweet Apple Acres, please? This burlap sack is giving me a rash."

"Yeah, yeah… Don't blame me for that, blame Twilight." Rainbow explains, "Her invisibility spell should have worked on you."

"Only it didn't and I wound up bleeding out of my ears."

"And how is that my fault?" Dash asks.

"It's not," I say, "but if I get something infected because you're being a lazy bones, it will be your fault."

"Do I hear a challenge?" Dash croons.

Oh no…!

"No, Dash, don't you dare don't you even- FUCKING SHIT!"

The world has just dissolved in colorful blurs; Rainbow Dash is putting a burst of speed that could make Usain Bolt jealous. Buildings rush by in streaks and it's a wonder the cyan Pegasus hasn't hit any pony in the street. Warp Speed, Mr. Sulu?

"Yeah, now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Dash says excitedly.

"Ugh, stop this train, I wanna get off." I moan.

"Suit yerself!"

Dash flies off while I get myself oriented. I gotta give the girl credit; she makes a long ass walk a quick sprint. It would have taken me an hour, on foot or by wheel, to get to SAA. Still, a little warning would have helped.

"There ya are, Steve!" Applejack cries.

Applejack is walking up the drive, her big brother in tow. His name is Big Mac, which reminds me of McDonalds. I'm told he's named after an apple cultivar. That doesn't make me any less hungry.

"Howdy ya'll!" I cry back, "Where you at?"

"What it is!" I taught Big Mac the NOLA greeting and he seems to like it. AyJay, on the other hand, is mildly perturbed.

"Anyway, we got yer room all set up in the back. Sorry about the toilet; I had a tough time readin' mah Daddy's notes on the family houses blueprints. I don't think mah Daddy was much of a plumber."

"Neither was mine." I say, "No worries, though. I can manage with the outhouse. So long as I have some measure of privacy, there's nothing to worry about."

"Good!" AyJay says cheerfully, "Lemme show ya the place. Big Mac can ya-"

"I can handle the chair, AyJay." I remind her, "Biggie ain't gotta push me. He could get me one of your Granny Smith apples, though. I LOVE those things!"

"Comin' right up."

Biggie trots off to find some vittles and I wheel after AyJay to Apple Family homestead. Already there is a gathering of ponies at my new digs. I can see Flutters there; she's brought along a nice plant for my housewarming party. Pinkie is here as well. She actually made well on her promise of a chocolate cake. And it's HUGE! I'll need about six seatings to finish it off. Rarity is here and so is her little sister, Sweetie Belle. They're pulling a clothes rack that I assume must be my new wardrobe. Twilight and Spike are there, as is Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Scootaloo isn't related to any of the ponies I know, but she is a friend of Apple Bloom (who is AyJay's and Biggie's little sis) and Sweetie Belle.

"Well, the gangs all here!"

Fluttershy smiles and says, "I wouldn't miss this for the world, Stevie!"

"Neither would I! This is gonna be the best housewarming ever!" Pinkie yells.

Christ, is Pinkie loud! My baby half-brother Bobby isn't half as loud as her.

"Well, shall we take a peek inside?" Rarity implores.

"Yes, Rarity, lets."

The whole crowd swarms the entrance after me. It's said that curiosity killed the cat; I wonder what it does to ponies.

"Wow…"

I gave AyJay and Biggie a set of specifications for how a human habitat was supposed to look. My designs were rather Spartan in comparison to the work I see here now. Cherry wood is used in all the furnishings; the rosy glow of wood makes this place feel warm and cozy. Unlike the Apple Homestead, my little flat is much larger than your average pony residence and per my designs, is also a lot more complex. There are hidden drawers and tableau's everywhere and the floor plan is sweeping so it can accommodate my wheelchair. It's better than I imagined it to be.

"Wow, AyJay, you really went all out!"

"Ain't my doing." Applejack admits, "Little Bloom did all the work, with an assist from Big Mac. She's the one who deserves the credit."

Bloom is blushing with pride; her friends are giving her brohoofs.

"Aw, shucks, t'aint nothin'." the little filly says.

"On the contrary, Apple Bloom, this place is amazing!' Twilight exclaims.

"I'll say, Twilight. This is better than any apartment I've ever had before! Thanks, Bloom!"

Bloom scuffs the floor. I don't think she's used to such praise.

"It is mahvelous, dahling!" Rarity gushes, "Now where do I put your new couture. I don't see a bureau anywhere…"

"Oh, try over here…"

Just tap the panel adjacent to the bed and…

"Bingo!"

Sweetie exclaims, "Oh, how ingenious!"

"I wanted to maximize the floor space."

Rarity starts placing clothes in as I come about to address the other ponies.

"Thank you for coming, everypony!" I announce, "This has turned out better than I expected. I think Pinkie has a grand reception planned at Sugarcube Corner. She assures me that will be beyond epic. So, who here wants to ♪par-tay?♫"

I'm stumbling, as much as one can stumble in wheelchair, out of the Sugarcube. Mr. & Mrs. Cake were generous enough to lend us the Corner after hours and boy did we party! I'm pretty sure I drank Pinkie under table with root beer. I'm starting to fell like my old self again… Flutters was introducing me to everypony she knows that I don't. In fact, DJ Pon-3 and I got into it pretty good. I gotta get a mixtape of her stuff; she's really good. It's nice to know these ponies don't immediately think I'm a threat, given all the evidence to the contrary. About the only pony I didn't see mixing it up was Rainbow Dash. She cut out shortly after the party started. Pinkie assured my that Dash loves to party hard, but she wasn't there for very long. This actually is a good thing because I don't think I can handle another ride on the Rainbow Express.

I think I'll take my time going home. It's funny, in the back of my head, I'm assured that none of this is real, yet I'm already considering this place as home. Still, even if none of this is real, it's a nice place and as good as any to call home. The nights here are cool and crisp, the days are nice and warm, and I have more friends than I ever had back home on Earth. That's what ironic about this all: the only real friends I have in my life are in my head. Hey, what is going on here? Why are the lights blazing every room of my flat?

"Yo, who dat?"

A drunken Brooklyn accent declares, "Ah, there youse are!"

I catch a blur of prismatic mane before I'm knocked into a cherry scented wall. It doesn't hurt but it does take me by surprise.

"Rainbow Dash?! What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh, come on, big boy!" ArDee croons, "Imma here to givesh youse yer house warmin' gift."

Christ, Dash is fucking smashed. Heheh, Rainbow Smashed!

"Ya know," ArDee admits, "I kinda had a thing fer ya when I first saw ya."

"I was told that you thought I was dead on first sight."

"Yeah, I kinda did," she continues, "but I also thought, 'Damn, whatta fine peice o' ass!'"

I'm starting to get a LITTLE nervous here.

"Hey, hey!" she exclaims, "Wanna see sumpin' cool?"

"Uh, sure Dash. Just did you have in- Oh, SHIT!"

Dash has got my pants down (how she did that without fingers amazes me) and is now servicing my- Oh, my…!

"Mmmmmm!"

Oh, good God, I'm getting a blowjob. FROM A PONY.

"Hmm, so good." ArDee croons.

Oh, Lord, it does feel good. She's fondling my testicles with her hooves and good God, what is she doing with her tongue?!

"♪You like?♫"

I can't seem to answer; all the spit in my mouth has dried up.

"Oh, yeah, you like."

Holy fucking shit, this feels good!

"Mmmm, so salty…"

That's right I haven't had a shower in da- Oh, fuck, are those her TEETH?!

"Mmm…"

"Oh, God…" I cry.

Fuck, I'm gonna cum…

"Dash, Daaassshhhh-"

Fuck, I'm cumming. And Dash seems up to the challenge of swallowing my spunk. I don't think I've ever unloaded this hard before. It's like I haven't cum before in my life. And it just keeps coming…

Dash moans happily, "Mmmmm…"

Before I stop, Dash looks at me. Her eyes are sorta half glazed; she is three sheets to the wind and then some. Oop, she just passed out. And I'm still cumming. She's gonna want to know why her face is sticky when she wakes up…

"Aw, man…" the racing mare moans.

"Morning, Dash."

"What happened?"

"You mean before or after you passed out?" I ask.

"Uh, both?

"Well," I answer, "I found you skulking in my flat, where you promptly pinned me to a wall before giving me a hummer. Then you passed out while I was still spewing spunk."

"Is that why my mane is so sticky?" ArDee asks.

"Pretty much. You hungry? I made waffles."

"No, no, I'm good. I'm late enough as it is. Uh, Steve?"

"Yeah?" I say.

"Whatever you do, don't mention ANY of this to Twilight. Or even Applejack." She sounds threatening.

"What about Fluttershy?" I inquire.

"NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT! Never to Fluttershy!" She bellows.

"Okay, okay, I won't."

"Pinkie promise?" ArDee asks.

"I- don't know what that means." I admit.

"Just- keep hush about, okay?" she requests.

"Will do. And Dash?"

Dash is halfway out the door when she turns back and says, "Yeah?"

"As much as I enjoyed your little- party trick, don't ever do that again." I warn.

10 If Wishes Were Horses

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How long has it been since the House Warming Incident? A week? Two weeks? Feels longer than that. Anyway, I've been making some excellent progress living in this sugar bowl delusion, with some minor exceptions. Twilight has been doing some experiments with me, more often than not leaving me seriously injured afterward. (You should have seen Flutters after the last test. She just about lost her shit when I wound up neck deep in the river instead of standing outside Sugarcube Corner.) I think it's safe to safe to say the pony magic and humans don't mix well.

This also got me thinking some. With every test, every experiment, I lose weight. Not like Richard Simmons "Sweatin' to the Oldies" kinda weight loss; I mean liposuction like weight loss. Applejack has a scale she uses to measure apple bushels and the first time I was on it, I dressed up 285 pounds. I was on it just yesterday, and found I was now at a svelte 175 pounds. Most of the clothes Rarity made for me are falling off me. She's had to take them in at three times.

"Ugh!" cries the fashionista.

"Another needle drop, Rares?"

"Yes!" Rarity admits, "That's the fifth drop today! I just don't understand it!"

"Well, what's going on?" I ask, "Are you getting distracted? Did Sweetie Belle do something to rise your ire?"

"It's nothing like that, dahling." Rarity says, "It's just- every time I raise a needle to sew, I lose my grip on it!"

"Hold for twenty… Rarity, are using your magic to hold the needle?"

"Uh, yes. Why?" Rares replies.

♪"I've got a theory!"♫

The seamstress inquires, "Did you just- sing, a little?"

"Uh, yeah, I did. Why do you ask?"

"Well, the common wisdom dictates that humans- can't really carry a tune." she informs me.

"Well, that's- Nevermind. Rares, maybe it'd be best you finish this without me here."

"Why would I do that, darling?" Rarity implores, "Don't you want to make sure I give the best possible fit?"

"I do, but my theory is that, as a human, I somehow- negate Equestrian magic."

Clearly confused, Rarity just says, "Huh?"

"Ask Twilight, she knows more."

Rarity starts, "Darling if I may-"

I'm halfway done stripping off the pattern Rarity had me wear. "Yeah?"

"How were you standing up during all of this?"

"How do you mean?" I ask.

"Your crutches- they were on the far wall. They are now in your hands! How did-" Rarity

Huh, how about that. I do remember setting them by the door, now they're here in my palms. Curious, this…

"Uh, Jedi Mind Trick? Anyway, talk with Twilight. She and I have a running hypothesis about why magic fails around me."

"Morning, Steven!" calls a friendly stallion.

"Mornin' Mr. Cake!" I reply.

Mr. Cake kindly asks, "Can I offer you a muffin?"

"Got any blueberry?"

"Sorry, Steve." the baker says, "I do happen to have some of these, though."

Deep whiff… Oh, fuck, those smell good! "Lemon?"

"Heck yeah!" Mr. Cake says.

"Mmmmmm, lemon… I'll take a dozen!"

"Put it on your tab?" Mr. Cake says.

"Naw, Carrot, I have some bits today. What's it come to?"

Mr. Cake looks surprised but says, "Five bits. Lemon isn't a flavor most ponies appreciate."

"Good thing I'm not." I chirp.

Five of my hard earned bits fall into Mr. Cakes money tin. Yay, I have lemony tasties! Mmmm, they are so good! Is that lemon rind? I DON'T CARE! LEMONS!!

"I hope enjoy 'em!" Mr. Cake calls out. I give him a wave and smile as I hobble away. I was halfway home when- *THWACK!* I tumble to the ground with another pony tangled in my limbs.

"Oh, what in the flying fuck-?! Watch where you're goin', ya sunuvabitch!" I growl.

"Not the son, but the bitch herself!"

Aw, fuck…

"Dash, been a while. How you holdin' up?"

"Oh, I'm fine-" ArDee leers.

I don't like the look she's giving me.

"But I think I could be better…"

Why in- Christ, when did a pony's backside look so inviting?

"I thought I said that could never happen."

"You said that I couldn't 'service' you again." ArDee teases, "You didn't say anything about whether is was 'full service.'"

"Dash! When I said that, it was my express intent that we never do anything remotely sexual. EVER. AGAIN. Besides, you asked me not to breathe a word of our encounter to your friends. The way you're going, people are going talk."

"Ah, let those ponies talk!" the racing mare dismisses.

Looking for a distraction, I blurt out, "Oh, hey, Scootaloo!"

"Squirt?"

Dash turns around to empty air. Exit, stage right!

"Hey, I don't see Scootaloo! So, what are y- Huh? Where did he go?"

"So, the name is Lyra?"

"Yeessss!" croons the aquamarine mare at my arm.

"Okay, cool. Thanks for the save back there. Dash is- Well, she is acting mighty peculiar and I rather not deal with that drama llama."

"Oh! Well, you're welcome! Hhhaaaaannnnnddddds!" Lyra says.

"Uh, Lyra?"

"Can I lick your fingers?" the unicorn requests.

EVERYBODY IN THIS TOWN IS CRAZY!

11 String Theory

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Well, I now I have a decent defense against Rainbow's assault. My two new friends help me out quite a bit. Whenever one or both of them are around, Dash keeps quite a distance away. I still see her around; I see her shadow fly overhead every now and then. Thankfully, I keep pretty busy. I got a job at the Promenade just off the market square. Whenever one of the arcade machines break down, I'm the guy to fix 'em. (This happens quite often, too, thanks to a certain button mashing colt. Gotta love job security like that!)

I haven't mentioned my two new friends, have I? Well, let me introduced you to them: Lyra Heartstrings and Ditzy Doo.

Lyra was the one who took me in during Dash's first "love attack." She's rather inquisitive, not unlike Princess Sparklebutt, although she seems to have some issues with boundaries. (While I was at her house having some delicious strawberry lemonade, she kept trying to peel off my boots and licking my toes. ♪Freaky!♫ Her marefriend, Bon-Bon, had to separate her from my "little piggies.") Anyway, she asks a lot of questions; not just about me but about humans in general. She's- dedicated to understanding the human condition. It's a bit unnerving, I'll admit; she's even tried to eat like an actual human. Bon-Bon told me she tried to eat real bacon, once. The poor mare puked up everything she ate that day, afterward.

Ditzy, or Derpy Hooves as her friends call her, is on the other side of the spectrum. She's friendly, just a tad absentminded, and her wall eyes tend to reduce her depth perception to non-existent. (She kinda reminds me of Olaf the snowman from Frozen.) Still, she's warm and keeps me awash in muffins. Between Pinkie Pie and Derpy, I'm up to my ears in sweets. Anyway, Ditzy and her coltfriend, Time Turner, wholeheartedly embrace me and often invite me over for dinner. I have to watch myself while I'm over, though. The last time I was there, I sat on something that I thought was a dowel and Double Tee had a minor rage fit on me. (I got a look at it before he retrieved; it resembled a Sonic Screwdriver. That might explain the blue phone booth in Ditzy's yard. I may need ask Double Tee if he knows anything about Time and Relative Dimensions in Space…)

Anyway, my small entourage keeps RD at bay, for the most part. Applejack and Fluttershy keep an eye on my flat in case the chromatic stunt mare decides to pull another "Splinter Cell" act on me. That didn't mean she wouldn't show up announced; I often hear her skulking around the little garden I set up out back, trying to pick the lock on the back door. Too bad for her, and excellent for me, the door is made of solid oak and there are four locks on it. (A chain, a deadbolt, a combination lock, and drop bolt in the floor.) She usually gives up after an hour or so, leaving me plenty of time to sleep.

It is just my luck that RD wasn't the only mare who had their sights set on me. I have little knowledge about equines, and that limited information has put me in a highly precarious position. It's early spring; it's also Estrus Week. Big Mac tried to warn me, but I thought he was joshing me. Turns out, he wasn't. It seems that every mare in town, save for Mrs. Cake and most of the Element Bearers, have singled me out for some lovin'. The good news, I've found a little known spot in Ponyville to hide from the estrogen fest in town. The bad news: My little hidey hole doesn't quite block out the sound of Equines in the throes of passion. Even my little entourage has gotten amorous. I don't know about Lyra, but I'm pretty sure Turner and Ditzy are getting busy. Small favors and all…

Ah, it's so nice up here. The clock tower is pretty much self sufficient, only needing a little oil from time to time, so I pretty much alone up here. The spot I've got picked out is away from any windows and door, so I have a reasonable chance of avoiding highly aroused Pegasi mares (especially that one Pegasus mare), the door at the ground floor is braced by a loose piece of timber, and I'm six stories above the ground. With my theoretical magic dampening ability, I doubt Rarity, Lyra, or even Twilight could teleport up here. About the only pony who knows I'm up here is Flutters, but only because I told her. She's been bringing me food and drink; she doesn't appear as badly affected by the estrus cycle as some of her friends are. Speak of the angel…

"Here you g-go, Stevie." Fluttershy declares, "I-I hope you'll like it."

"Mmm, I smell… I smell… I smell… Granny Smith apples! Yummy!! And I see some peach cobbler, and this Caesar salad looks like a hundred leagues of delicious! Thanks, Flutters!"

"Y-y-you're w-welcome." Shes says, a light blush on her cheeks.

I could kill for a girl to smile like that at me…

"Did AyJay give any trouble?"

"No, s-she didn't." Fluttershy informs me, "I just t-told her th-this was for me. I g-gave h-h-her the im-impression that I've having a t-t-tea party w-with H-Harry."

"Thank the Maker! I don't think I can set foot on Ess Double Ay this week. The last time I was there, AyJay give me a look like she was planning to devour me!" If that came from anybody else, Zooey Deschanel, Emma Stone, Amy Adams, Allison Janey, or even Kate Upton, I wouldn't mind. Applejack… well, I don't think of her in that way. "Know what I mean?"

"Y-y-yeah." admits Flutters, "By the way, Stevie, h-how did y-you get u-u-up here, anyway?"

"On foot, the hard way."

"Oh."

You know, Flutters is looking a might stressed. Maybe this whole estrus cycle is hitting her harder than I can imagine. Maybe I should offer her some of my lunch, get her to calm down.

"If you wanna share some of this food with me, Flutters, I wouldn't object."

"Oh, no, I-I-I c-couldn't." Fluttershy says modestly.

"Come on, Fluttershy, you can't hide how shaken you are. You're trembling so hard, you're molting! Sit down and have some apple cider with me."

"O-okay." She looks both relieved and defeated at the same time. I keep forgetting how expressive these ponies can be.

Hmm, I've also forgotten how much fun it is to be sharing a meal with my good friend Flutters. Those delicate bites she takes of everything… I do kinda wonder why she's actively avoiding the apples, but methinks that's a topic for another day.

"Have you tried the cobbler, yet? It's scrumptious!"

"N-no, I h-haven't… Mmmm, so delicious!" Fluttershy croons.

I'm getting a very When Harry Met Sally vibe right now. Weird…

"You okay, Flutters?"

"Oh- Uh, y-yes, I'm o-o-okay…" Youlieyoulieyoulie…

"Are you sure?" I inquire, "You seem preoccupied."

"W-well…"

Twirling my finger here, hoping she'll continue.

"W-well, you see, Steven-" She's getting serious here. What is going on?

"As-as you you know, it's Estrus Week…" Fluttershy starts.

"Yeah, that's why I've gone into seclusion." I deadpan.

"Y-yes, I know. Well, see, everypony I know has a special somepony for this time- I mean, Twilight has C-Cloud Dancing… Pinkie and Cheese S-Sandwich are practically joined at the h-hip… Applejack is seeing that Lone S-Star character… Rarity- she's has a stallion, but she would never kiss and t-tell…"

"Yeah, it's like a massive hook-up fest out there." I say.

Flutters nods, "Well, I don't I don't have a special somepony… I-I mean, I do have somepony in mind…"

"Do you now?" Why am I starting to get jealous? "Praytell, who is this lucky stallion?"

"Oh, s-somepony you know-" the golden Pegasus shyly admits, "B-but Dashie has already laid claim to h-him. I- I came too late…"

Hold for twenty…

"Wait… ArDee has a stallion? Wow, do I feel sorry for that guy!"

Flutters asks nonplussed, "Wha-?"

"Well, Dash can be a little overbearing." I confess, "She's rather passionate about many a thing, so any stallion caught in her cross-hairs is as good as attached to another object by an inclined plane, wrapped helically around an axis."

"So- so she hasn't tried-" Flutters inquired.

Huh?

"Uh, Flutters, what's going on?"

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear Flutters was just made a princess, she looks so happy.

"So who's canary did you eat, kitty?"

Fluttershy begins, "Steven…"

"Yes, Flutters?" I ask.

"I- Could-"

"Use your words." I tell her.

"C-c-could y-y-y-you be my special s-somepony? If-if you want to- If that would be okay-?"

Did- Did I just get asked out by a pony?

"Uh, sure, yeah Flutters, I mean-" I begin.

WAH! By all things Bright, when did Flutters get this aggressive?

Flutters whispers hotly, "I'll take care of you, Stevie. You won't have to worry about anything…"

"What are you talking abo-"

How did she get my pants off see easily?! I know she's strong, but this? Uh, what is she doing-?

"Take me, Steven. Make me a proper mare!" Fluttershy cries.

Oh, for the love- Flutters just impaled herself on my penis! Oh, the warmth… She is so warm inside! Her passage walls are wiggling and gripping my manhood. It's like they don't wanna let me go-!

Fluttershy moans, "Oh, Steven-!" I don't think I've heard her- visceral, before.

In my mind, I know that this is wrong. Oh, so many levels of wrong! Having intimate relations with a horse, sorry, a pony? We're not even of the same species…! Yet, I can't seem to resist… It is so- deliciously sensual-!

"Agh!"

I think she just pushed me past her hymen or whatever it is that equine mares have. Those moans she makes, they're part pain and part pleasure. As this goes on, I think they'll swap over permanently to pleasure.

"So hard- so hard- so deep-! Aghhhh!" Fluttershy gasps.

I'm gasping pretty hard myself. Good Lord, is just me or is Flutters getting hotter by the second?! (An image of the female Cylon comes to mind for whatever reason. Why the new Battlestar Galactica just this moment? I do not know.)

Fluttershy moans hotly in my ears. "Steven, Oh, Steven-!"

"Fluttershy- Oh, God, FLUTTERSHY-!" I moan back.

"Steven- Steven- I can't hold on- I can't hold on- any longer!" she cries.

"Then don't," I reply, "Let it out, let it go. Shake the heavens with ecstasy."

What comes out of her mouth is less than words, but no pure sound either. It's more like a pleasurable wail. I think she just had her first orgasm.

Between gasps, Flutters tells me, "Stevie- Oh, Stevie, this feels so good!"

I want to reply, but the walls of her core are pulsating to no end. The sensation is both pleasing and erotic. Don't know how much longer I can hold on…

"I've never- felt like this- before, Stevie," Fluttershy confesses, "but I like IT! I LIKE IT A LOT!"

I admit, this is better than anything I've imagined before. The writhing mare on top of me is producing the most seductive noises I've ever heard and my arousal responds in kind by getting more turgid by the second. Each time she comes down, each time my pride is sheathed deeply inside her, it create a blissful sensation that I've ever fantasized about. I'm not going to complain about Fluttershy being my first wo- mare.

"It's coming- Oh, it's coming, Stevie! I- I- I can't hold back-!"

Fluttershy drapes herself over my chest as her next orgasm strikes and I can feel her body quiver in ecstasy. She spasms like this for several moments as she continues to impale herself on my throbbing manhood. In return, I nibble on her velvet soft ears. This brings on another orgasm, leaving Fluttershy in a state of quaking bliss. The velveteen softness of her body is spurring me on to an orgasm of my own…

"I'm afraid- I have to pop soon, Flutters-!"

"Do it-!" Fluttershy urges me, "S-spill your seed inside me-! I w-wanna be filled with your- love-! Spill your musk so deep inside me!!"

"Flutters-! I'm cumming! I'M CUMMING!"

"Steven-! Steven-! STEVENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

And, pop goes the cork! Ahhhh, the relief… I came pretty hard when Dash sucked me off, but this- I can feel myself pushed flush against Flutters cervix and my baby batter is filling her uterus and spilling over into her passage. And she's still thrusting on top of me. I can feel her quiver in ecstasy and her insides are excitedly pulsing, milking me for everything I've got. I didn't do much of anything in this- exchange, but I'm feeling so exhausted…

The next little while is a confused burst of sensual delight and amorous caresses. I can't tell how many times Fluttershy and I climaxed; her need was nigh insatiable and I was more than willing to sate it. Even as we continued, an idea germinated in my head, made by that vile voice that tried to convince me that I was hallucinating before. It kept screaming that I was a sexual deviant, that making love to an equine entity like Fluttershy was a grotesque act of selfishness. It kept telling me I was a bestiaphile. Then a more rational side of me reasoned that since these Equestrians were more human than a typical terrestrial pony, that maybe what I was doing was xenophilia, which wasn't nearly as bad. I don't know which voice won out. Some time after the moon rose, we both passed out, breathing in each others scent. Whether we stayed that way for hours or just a few minutes, I couldn't say.

"Mmmmmmm…" moans a familiar mares voice.

I hear crickets. The air is cool. Is it night already?

"Hmm, Fluttershy?"

"Hello, Steven." Flutters croons.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Oh, just a few hours before dawn." she informs me.

"Dawn?"

Fluttershy nods, "Mmm-hmm! Luna's moon has long since risen."

"Inquiry: did we just-?"

Flutters nods again. In the waning moonlight, her coat takes on a silvery sheen. It makes her exotically gorgeous.

"Just the once or-?"

"Oh, no." Flutters admits, "I'm surprised you forgotten. We kept going, it was so wonderful. We mated at last three more times."

"Dayum-!"

"Mhmm…"

"Uh-"

"Don't worry, Stevie," Flutters tells me, "I won't tell anypony."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Oh? What is it?" she asks with concern.

"I think I've come to a decision." I tell her.

"A decision?" Fluttershy asks.

I nod, "Despite all evidence to the contrary, I'm reasonably assured this place, this town, you, are very much real. And if I'm stuck here, then- Well, I'd be blessed man."

"That's wonderful, Stevie!" Fluttershy cheers.

"So now the question remains: is this just a one time deal, you and I?" I ponder.

I can see tears welling in her eyes. Oh, please, for the Love of God, don't cry…!

"Does- does it have to be?" she begs.

"Well, uh, no… But, I'm a little- I haven't quite gotten to point in my thought processes where I can- Listen, Fluttershy, you're a nice pony. You're pretty, you're kind, you think about everyone else before yourself. Until today, I've never seen you act in any way that can be remotely described as selfish… God only knows I wanna pursue a relationship with you- I'm not just talking sex, but you know-? I just- I need to sort some things out first, okay?"

"What's to sort out?" She's getting mad.

"It's- it's nothing to do with you, Flutters, I swear! It's just- Where I come from, there are social mores that can't be broken. A human with a horse- uh, a pony in this case- it's seen as unnatural. There are some that would call what we just did 'bestiality.' I've never entertained the idea that you were anything less than intelligent before-"

"So, what we did is- UNNATURAL?! I'M UNNATURAL?!"

Gotta stem the flow, gotta stem the flow-!

"No, Flutters, I didn't-" I'm backpedaling here.

She turns to leave. I do about the only thing I can do at this point and lunge after her, grabbing on to her hind legs.

I'm imploring here, "Flutters, please!"

"WHAT?!" she roars.

"I- I want to be with you- Really, I do. You'll need to be patient with me. Okay? I- I may seem altogether and everything, but this mind of mine is all kinds of FUBAR."

"Fubar?"

"Fu- Freaked Up Beyond Any Recognition. I'm gonna need some time to-"

"To?!" she demands.

Le sigh.

"I need some time to sort my feelings about this. I mean, I LIKE you, Fluttershy. I just… I don't want to hurt you on some pretense of romance if my heart and my head aren't in collusion on this."

"Stevie-" Fluttershy whimpers.

More tears… Please, just stop-

"Please, stop, Fluttershy-! Your tears, they're killing me-!"

She stops. Her tears are still falling. She snorts and stomps the wooden floor with a hoof.

"Steven- I'm going to give you a week. Seven days, to see if you can- sort yourself out. If I don't hear from you between then and now, then- I can- I can't be anything to you. Not a friend, not a pal, not even a marefriend. I can't-"

"I accept! By the end of seven days, I'll have an answer for you."

"O- Okay." she says.

And she leaves. How in the fuck do I keep getting into this shit?!

12 Counting Sheep and Running Out

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It was such a nice dream. Flutters and I were sitting in a meadow, watching the clouds pass by. Every now and then, a passing butterfly would alight on Flutters nose, and she stare at the little thing half amused and half fascinated. I would eat hay fries and peach cobbler off her belly. It was actually rather relaxing. I couldn't tell how long all this went on but it seemed to last forever. Then the humans showed up…

It was strange, seeing humans walking with purpose. From everything I've gathered from the Equestrians I know, humans are not just rare, but extinct here. Also, they seem rather less evolved than I. These humans, though, were more advanced than even I could guess at. They moved in a coordinated fashion, like a military troupe. They were clad in what looked like armor, but not medieval armor. Nor was it the body armor of today's military forces, either. There were L.E.D.s everywhere on them, filaments of tubes running hither and thither, micro-hydraulics running the limbs with ease and weapons I can't begin to speculate on. (At least the looked like weapons.)

As they marched, I heard them speak and it was like no language I know. It was lilting sort of tongue; the strangest part of it was, though I'm no polyglot, I understood them! Whatever this procession was about, I could feel a certain anxiety and maybe even, a bit of resignation? Was I the only one to hear these people as the trudged along? I look towards my dream version of Fluttershy and she is entertaining a monarch on the tip of her hoof.

"We should fight! We have the weapons, we have the interdiction; why aren't we turning those creatures into so much glue!" A firebrand of a young man said this.

He's answered by a mature woman in an armor that seems regal, I guess. The lines on her face suggest she's at the tail end of midlife. "You know as well as I do that we can't match them in terms of magic. Did you or did you not see the Eighth Division? Eradicated, to the last! Their powers outstrip our weapons by a hundredfold and you know it! Damn the Proletariat, they doomed us all!!"

A weary looking middle-aged gentleman speaks, "Then Matron, what are we doing? Are we to retreat in perpetuity until all Humanity is a footnote in the fossil record?"

"No," answers the regal armor wearer, "We must preserve our species, in any way possible. The Intelligentsia have uncovered another world, similar to ours, but with beasts that have little of the intelligence or magic of ours. There are also humans there as well. They are less evolved, and are suffering through an age of ice, but we shall educate them. We shall rebuild there."

"And what if the humans there think us monsters?" The firebrand again.

"We shall disguise our technology to make them appear more appealing to them, I guess," the woman answers, "but as always, we shall survive, we shall thrive."

"Madame, does the Intelligentsia know if these humans are capable of understanding?" Asks another man in flowing robes of magenta, a bald pate reflecting the mild sunlight overhead, "Even some of our own are less than tolerant of new ideals…"

"They have many aspects that are identical to us. Their world runs on a much faster spin than our own. According to estimates recently devised by House Intelligentsia, for every hundred years that pass here, ten thousand pass there. Goddess of Light and God of Life, whatever caused that? Not even Intelligentsia knows… In any case, the Gateway shall send us there towards the end of that ice age. We shall endeavor to inform them, raise up a civilization there not unlike our own, or die trying."

A pretty ginger girl quips, "Just as long as it isn't another Atlantis, then, yes, Matron?"

"Atlantis was a failure for many reasons, the least of which was that the locals were driven by deep seated lust for power and wealth. That we must purge or contain that once we get there. It was a mistake, attempting a temporally displaced colony like that."

After that, the procession is mostly silent. I can hear murmurs of dissent, grief, and desperation among the rest of the column. My eyes lock on to one of the ladies passing by; she heavy with child and clutching the hand of small toddler who is crying silently. The one thing that unnerves me most about all of this is the young ginger girl. She seems- familiar to me. Where have I seen her before…? There is no way I could forget a face so pretty.

"Remember us, Archmage."

Huh?

"Remember us, Steven Ambrose. You are descended from some of these, the Great Terran Empire. Let not our failure be repeated…"

The ginger girl, I think she was speaking to me. (How did she figure out my surname??) She gives me one last look…

"Do not let our memory fade, Archmage."

*GASP!*

Ugh, God, I need to stop eating cupcakes before bed…

13 Curiosity and Cats

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Day Two of Seven…

The afternoon sun is peeking from clouds that the weather team hasn't seen fit to clear. It's my understanding that a rainstorm is scheduled for later in the week, but not today. I don't feel any humidity, so rain isn't in the offing, but the clouds are low enough to force one to think about packing an umbrella. Midway and I are watching the clouds shift, waiting for the afternoon crowd to arrive. (Midway is my co-worker/boss at the Promenade.) It's just ten minutes to four in the afternoon, on a school day no less. Ponyville Elementary let's out at three-twenty. BY now, Button Mash, Snips, Snails, and even Featherweight should be here, plunking bit after bit in the arcade machines. So far, nothing. King of the Hill vibe kicking up in three… two… one…

I ask my boss, Midway, "Slow today, ain't it?"

"Yep." Midday replies, "Wonder what's keepin' 'em?"

"The clouds, I think." I say, "It's spring but the overcast is making it seem like late fall or early winter."

"Dagnabbit!" Midway exclaims, "Wasn't the forecast for sun, sun, and more sun?"

"That it was, Midway." I sigh, "I guess I'll give a check over the machines, just in case."

"Did you ever get the Whack-A-Mole game workin' again?" Midway asks.

"Yeah, pretty simple solution, really. The hydraulics were bled dry on the right side. I balanced them a little, bled some that were overcharged, too. Gave it a test play, seems good now."

Midway nods, "Well, I'm gonna grab a snack. Need anythin'?"

I reply, "I'll take some hayfries. Oh, and a tall soda. I didn't sleep so well last night."

"A nightmare?" asks Midway.

"Nah, just a crazy dream." I answer, "Nothing Princess Luna had to worry about."

Midway laments, "Too bad."

"Yeah, no kidding. I hear The Mare of the Night is quite the looker."

"Not like her sister…" Midway adds.

"Doesn't matter." I say, "My favorite color is blue."

Midway laughs, "Okay, Mister Man! How 'bout I get them snacks?"

"G.G., Mids. I'm going to walk the rounds. Don't forget the ketchup!"

"Yeah, yeah…" Midway answers, "That human and his ketchup…"

Midway is down the path leading to the market; I break off towards the arcade proper. A great of these games are simpler versions of stuff I played in the 1980's. I'm quietly surprised I don't see a version of Pac-Man around here. Though, from what I understand, trade between Equestria and Neighpon is rather limited. Huh, that's odd. I did the rounds ten minutes ago, purely out of boredom, and I don't remember this cabinet being here.

Hmm, I don't see a title on the machine itself. The controls are standard Equestrian… Hmm, that's odd. The screen shows a picture of Rainbow Dash. I don't see any jaggies… When did arcade rigs get graphics this sophisticated? Hmm, maybe I should make a quick playthorugh here. I always liked video games… I know I got a bit around here… Okay, I got it. Down it goes…

"My Little Dashie! A Celstiluna Production."

This from the mouth of the digitally animated Dash. Wow, these are some good graphics! And now for the introductory scenes…

"Come give us a kiss!"

What the-? HrrrgggghhHH! I have pony lips on my mouth. I HAVE PONY LIPS ON MY MOUTH!

"Plegh! Aw, geez- RAINBOW DASH!" I bellow.

"Hey there, handsome!" Rainbow Dash coos, "How do I do? Pretty good, right?"

"Dash…" I growl.

"I know, I know, there's no need to say it." Rainbow Dash crows, "I. Am. Awesome!"

Growling, I say, "That. Was. Not. Awesome."

"Huh?" The chromatic Pegasus gives me a worried look.

I explain to her, "I'm at work here, Dash. Also, I think I made pretty clear during Estrus Week that you and I aren't a thing."

"Aw, come on, hot stuff! You know you need this." Dash says, wiggling her plot almost directly in my face.

"What I need is a restraining order and a shotgun." I moan.

I tip the cabinet with Rainbow Dash still inside. She squeals in surprise as I drag the cabinet to the back of the arcade, where all the out-of-order" machines go.

"Besides, don't you have a job to do?" I question.

"You mean getting mounted by your bad self?" she croons.

"Uh, no!" I lift a finger to the clouds, "How about the sky, Rainbow Crash? It's been overcast most of the day!"

"Oh, please, I can clear that in ten seconds flat." she declares.

"You couldn't clear it in ten minutes, you doof!" I dare her.

"Oh, yeah?!" she asks threateningly.

"Yeah…" One part menace, one part challenge, add water, stir and serve.

"You're on!" she exclaims and takes off for the sky.

Wah! Dash just busted the cabinet! Ah, there we go, blessed sunlight! She's faster than I thought.

"See, what did I tell ya?" she asks, panting.

"You said ten seconds."

"See?" she beams.

"That was fifteen seconds ago." I whisper.

"What-?!" she exclaims.

"You lose!" I say, "It took you twelve seconds to clear the sky- Oh, here comes company. Well, Dash, it's been nice busting your rump, but now I got make sure some young colts don't go breaking the hardware. TeeTeeWhyEl!"

Oh, the look on Dash's face is PRICELESS!

14 Confessions: Rainbow Dash

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Day Three of Seven:

Twilight Sparkle POV-

The library was clean. I liked that. Every book was shelved by subject, then by title, and lastly by author. I'd like to see any other librarian due that with any efficiency under three hours. Hmm, I think a cup of tea is in order. The endorphin rush of a perfectly ordered library isn't going to carry me through the afternoon. I should call on Spike…

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!*

Who is this? It's not even midday and someone is calling? Maybe it's a new patron to the library! Oh, the excitement…

"Oh, Rainbow Dash!"

"Hey, Twi!" Rainbow beams, "You doing anything today?"

"Uh, no, not actually." I admit, "I just finished reorganizing the library-"

"Great! Cuz I really need to talk to you."

Jeez, Dash, could you at least give me a moment to bring out some refreshments or something?

"So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?" I ask.

"You know Steve pretty well, huh?" Rainbow Dash inquires.

"Yes, I know something of him." I tell her, "What about him?"

"Well, uh-" Dash begins, "Geez, this is gonna sound silly-"

"Wow." I exclaim.

"What?"

"I think this is a first! Rainbow Dash: all tongue tied over a stallion. Or man, as the case may be." I declare.

"Hey-!" Rainbow exclaims,"You better wat-"

"Calm down, Dash, I was only kidding!" i say, "Why don't we go into the kitchen. I was just about to make myself some tea."

"Oh! Well, yeah, that'd be cool."

I can hear Dash trotting in line behind me as we make our way to the kitchen. While not the best consulting space in Equestria, I think it would do Dash some good to focus on me while she explains her situation. She is almost foaming at the mouth. What could she see in that- human, I'll never know but she seems set on him. Maybe she'll tell me when we talk?

"So," I have my back turned to her, but I can hear Dash panting, like a dog, "what is it you wanted to talk to me about? Does it have anything to do with our- visitor?"

Did I just hear metal rattling behind me?

"Oh, yeah…" Dash begins.

"So," I've got a tea kettle settled on the stove and the flames are set just right, "why?"

"Huh?"

"Why him?" I inquire.

"Well, uhm…"

"Well, you are REALLY hung up on him." I confirm.

"I can't help it! He's- He's something different."

"How do you mean?" I ask.

"Well… When I first saw him, I didn't think much of him. Pudgy, kinda unsightly, and all that blood. It wasn't until later, when we got him into Flutter's place, that I saw him completely. Now you know as well as I that I've taken quite a few tumbles before."

"Like that time you tried to a pull off a spinning Sonic Rainboom and ended up in the hospital for a month? How many bones in your wings did you break that time?" I say.

"Well- Uh- Yeah- It doesn't matter, now. What DOES matter, is that I don't know anypony who can take those injuries and live. I mean, he was pretty messed up, wasn't he?"

I nod, "To quote Big Mac, 'Eyup.'"

"Well, I kept thinking he was a goner. I mean, he lost part of his leg! All that blood… That guy was done for. Then-" Dash begins.

"A miraculous recovery, even without healing spells and the fact that he's the first intelligent human seen in forever."

"Yeah. And you know, I had to admire that." Dash confesses, "I thought, 'This guy is resilient. With those massive injuries, he could just slouch into a hospital bed and stay there to the end. But he isn't going to.'"

"Is that when you starting having feeling for him?" Oh, good, the kettle is whistling.

"No," I get two cups gripped telekinectically and the tea pot now steaming in my magic, "Remember when we brought him here, after the incident with the rogue human?"

"The sky marshal event? Yeah, I remember that." I reply.

"Did you see what I saw?"

Curious, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"After I conked him on the head? Did you see him MOVE?" Dash says.

"Uh, no. One moment he was bracing his head, the next he had that- thing in his hand." Had I not known what it could do from earlier in that day, I would have sworn he was just offering a consolation of a sort.

"Wow, I'm surprised. I'm pretty sure Applejack saw it. Anyway, what I saw was- amazing…"

"I don't follow." I admit.

"Seriously? He moved, not like anypony I know, including me! He was fast, like REALLY FAST." Dash confides.

"Huh?"

"I'm telling you, I saw it!" Rainbow is practically jumping out of her hooves, "The pistol was behind that day sofa of yours.He just- got up, and RAN behind the sofa, picked up that- thing- and then he was sitting on the sofa pointing it at me."

"How come I never saw this?" I inquire.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a- Pegasus sense or something?"

"That doesn't explain much." I admonish.

"Okay, be Miss Cynical and everything! I'm pouring my heart out here-"

I better pour her some tea before she goes on wild rampage. "No, no, I'm here to listen. I didn't mean anything, really."

Okay, Dash is calming down. Good.

"Sorry. It's just- Steve has got my head all messed up."

"So, you saw him move, as in move quickly and that's when you became- infatuated with him?"

"Well, yes. Then again, no. I mean, I'm the fastest pony in Ponyville, if not Equestria and this guy- he outstripped me! Just for a fraction of a second, he was a blur of activity and I couldn't think of just how fast he had to be going to pull that stunt off. That's when I started following him… There were times where I thought I saw that he was interested."

"Oh, please tell me you didn't stalk him…!" I exclaimed.

"Uh-" That blush on her face tells me that Dash is caught between a rock and a hard place.

"Dash…" I implore.

"What else was I supposed to do? The mares do the chasing, not the stallions! You know this! Well, at first, it was just me trying to see if he could anything else." Rainbow confesses, "Or better, if he could move like that again. You know me, I'm a competitor! I wanted to race with him. Then I started seeing other stuff…"

"Other stuff?" I ask.

"Well- He has this- I don't know what to call it. I mean- have you seen him get up in the morning?" Dash inquires.

"Uh, no, I can't say I have." Not that I haven't been curious… The morning habits and rituals of another sentient creature might make an excellent cultural study…

Dash is smiling. The kind kind of smile she made when Daring Do made an excellent joke. Should I be worried? Mmm, this is some good tea. I should thank Fluttershy for the suggestion.

"Well, he does this- thing. It's like a hop, but he bounces on his good leg… and he kinda wobbles until he's balanced. It's- It's the cutest thing I've ever seen!"

"Wow, you are totally into him!" I say.

"I know, right?!" Dash exclaims, "There's, like, all these things he does. The way he growls when he's in bad mood, or that laugh of his. All throaty and loud, I get tingly just thinking about it!"

"There gotta be more to it than that, though."

"Well, uh, there- is, maybe?" Dash says sheepishly.

I don't think I've ever seen Rainbow Dash blush this hard before. Her entire face has gone beet red.

"What happened?"

"Well, it was after Steve's housewarming party. I was downing some really good apple cider. The hard stuff Applejack keeps in the cellar. 'Jack comes down, sees me chugging and joins me. Please don't tell her I told you this. Anyway, 'Jack and I got to talking. She was telling me about her coltfriend, Lone Star, and all the stuff she and him get up too. We were both pretty drunk; we used to do drinking games during My Little Human. I'd like to say I'm proud of consistently drinking her under the table, but I'd be lying."

"Go on."

Dash is sipping her tea. What she has to say next might be embarrassing for her. That blush has not gone away. In fact, it's only deepened.

"Well, I was feeling pretty lonely and then I heard Steve coming up the walk. 'Jackie is all 'We better hit the hay. I think Steve's had enough fun for one day.' I agreed, but something came to mind. So I kinda- snuck into his house."

"Dash!" I did not expect that.

"What can I say," Dash confesses, "I was hammered! Anyway, I hear him come in. It's dark, he can't see me. And for whatever reason, I'm as randy as Tartarus. Anyway, he sees me, and-"

I make an effort of twirling my fetlock around so Dash can continue.

"Well, long story short, I sorta, kinda, maybe gave him fellatio?"

Shocked. I am shocked. "Dash-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Nopony really talks about that kinda stuff. But I bet you ten bits that humans do it, too." Dash says with a hit of a dare in her voice.

"Why?"

"Because he didn't seem to object!" Dash says, "He just kinda- went with it."

"What happened next?" I've completely forgotten my tea; it's gone cold. What a waste…

"Well, I woke the next morning. I think I passed out or something because instead of being on the floor, like I was the night before, I was in his bed. He was making pancakes or something when I woke up. I then told him not to say a word to anypony."

"Why?" I demand.

"I dunno! I guess- I guess I was a little mortified that I could just- do that. I mean, I've dated plenty of times before. I've had- oh, gosh, I don't know how many coltfriends. But Steve was different; he was- chill."

"How do you mean?"

"It was like- He was up for anything. Not many colts or stallions can say that. I get- kinda wild in the sack…"

"Okay, I'm sure I didn't need to hear that." I moan.

"Well, anyway, after that I just couldn't get him out of my head! I kept seeing his face and- that's when I figured out- I wanted him to be my special somepony."

"Oh, Dash-" I cry.

"I'll have him, too! You just wait. His playing hard to get game will wither eventually-"

I'm almost afraid to tell her about the competition… Of which I am not a part. Nope! He's interesting in that my magic seems to hurt him and burn him out. He's intriguing in that aspect that his world is filled with all these technical wonders we ponies haven't dared dream of yet. But he's a mild curiosity. I don't find his abrasive manner all that attractive. Or that fact that he uses profanity like it was going out of style. Or the cute way he twiddles his fingers when he's impatient. Or the way he smiles when he laughs… By the Goddesses, why I am thinking of this?

"Hey Twilight! Earth to Twilight! You in there?"

"Oh, sorry Dash!" I say, "I was just thinking. You've given me quite a lot to think over."

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Oh, just- stuff." I end lamely.

"You better not make a move on him!"

"No, no, it's not that! I just wonder… If he's the last human survivor… He couldn't possibly entertain… Sorry, Dash, I'm wrapped up in something you said."

"Like what?" Dash inquires.

"I'll tell you later. Say, are you hungry? I'm getting a huge craving for some hay burgers."

15 ¤ High on the Mountaintop ¤

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Base Camp

The wind is making a terrible racket outside our tent. I thank Faust that I have a double layer of flannel, made by Rarity, on. Without it, I doubt my Sunshine Belt self would last the night. I'd be hard pressed to tell if wind comes from windigos or not. Sure seems like it.

"Are you sure they're here?"

"Yes, Twilight. I can sense them… Why? Do you have reservations of my skills?"

"No, Archmage. I don't doubt in the slightest. But we are in the Pride-lands. Judging by the way our goodwill ambassadors reacted to us, I have- concerns about how well this mission of ours will go."

"Spike's right: you worry too much."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"If it's anything to do with the Sulfur character… he was asking for it. Nobody treats my wife that way and gets away with it."

Twilight doesn't respond and I don't think i blame her. After Princess Celestia's illness, and Princess Luna's campaign out east against the Centaurs, it's a small wonder we would even be going on an operation like this. Princess Cadence, on the other hoof, seems to think this is an important task. That's why I got sent along. Twilight could have handled this herself.

"Excuse me?"

Twilight and I turn to a female dragon that just entered the tent. Unlike some of the others, she is well versed in pony customs. She also seems a lot less unnerved by my presence.

"Yes, Whimsey?"

"I just wanted you and the Archmage to know, some humans were spotted just downrange of here. They were seen ducking into an abandoned den."

"Where exactly?"

"A days climb, going east."

Twilight consults her map, "That will put us dangerously close to Centaur territory…"

"They won't see us," I sound more confident than I felt, "I got just the trick for them"

"I hope it works… You said Sulfur would sustain some minor scrapes-"

"And he ended up a double amputee. In case you haven't noticed, Twilight, Arcanus Sapiens is not as precise as Arcanus Equus. You ponies have drawing mana down to an art. I have to relearn two hundred centuries worth of magical skill. Without, I may add, any tutelage."

"Fine!" I can see Whimsey light a little at that. Our guide in this realm has been very helpful to us; I have a working hypothesis that she is fascinated by humans. And she has little love for certain ponies, Twilight belonging to that category.

"Whim, is there any way we can sneak up that area without attracting Centaur attention?"

"You bet there is! I know just the place…"

Morning, along the Eastern face of the Craggy Mountains

"Jesus, is that a view!"

"It's too bad we aren't here to sight see."

"True…"

"Archmage, over here!"

Go screaming, come running…

"What is it, Whim?"

"Look…"

From outstretched talon, I see it: signs of human habitation. A piece of animal hide, tanned and coated in tar, hangs over the mouth of a cavern. I can't smell any smoke, though. Can they still be here?

"How-"

"Fitting?"

"I was going to say barbaric."

"They're humans, Sparklebutt. They survive in the most adverse of conditions. What they do to obtain that survival may not be pretty, but is is effective."

"Do you think you can find 'em, Archmage."

"If they're here, Whimsey, I'll find-"

What is that song?

"Do you guys here that?"

Twilight asks, "Here what?"

"Singing… It's humans- singing! They're here!"

"Oh, wow…" Whim says dazed.

"Do you hear it now, Whim?"

"I do. It sounds- eerie…"

"It's a lament. I think- It feels like someone died. Can you hear it Twilight?"

Sternly, Twilight shouts, "I can't hear anything over this wind!"

I hear it, though. Above the tumult of wind, I hear sadness. Tears are forming in my eyes. If I were back home, I'd have to hide that fact or brush it off as the wind making me teary.

"Okay, they're nearby. I'm gonna try something."

I'm trying to think of something that the Terrans might have used while in communion. That's when it hits me. So I start humming The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Stirring, proud, and most importantly, it's in a key that can be heard even with the thunderous wind in our faces.

Hmm, I wonder what's taking so long. I'm humming loud enough to wake the dead- Oh, wait, here they come. Wow, this is- more than I expected. The dragons reports were erroneous. This was no gaggle of human. This was a colony of Terrans. The armor they wear is worn out and rusted in places, but I can still see the military and academic dedication in their stances. The women have tears falling, the men, though stoic, have a melancholy to their faces. Twilight, I see, is having trouble understanding them. That's okay. Terran died out here a long time ago…

One of the women in the crowd steps up.

["Good morning."]

Wow, I didn't think Twilight could gasp that hard! I swear, she just did a triple take.

["Good morn to you, stranger. How is it that you can speak our tongue."]

["I was instructed by the Hand That Mourns."]

I see… That name still has resonance among these people. Good.

["Pray tell, Stranger, how did the Hand That Mourns instruct you. She is many moons into her rest."] the woman said.

I explain, ["She left a message, for me and all those that follow."]

["A cryptogram?"] she asks.

["More like hologram."] I reply.

The leader returns to her fold, speaking with several others. I think this might be a council of sorts. Many in the conversation have more armor than hair.

["Praytell, Stranger, but what might your name be?"]

["I was named Steven Ambrose, but the Hand That Mourns named me Archmage."]

The name is enough to send everyone in the crowd on their knees. I hate when they get all "we're not worthy" on me.

["Forgive us, Archmage, for our insolence. We had lost hope- We were certain we would have our end here."]

["Nothing to forgive, really. I was the one late to the party."]

["Forgive us, Archmage,"] That's one of the council members, a sage old man with a House of Reason sigil on his armor, ["but why are you consorting with a Dragon and an Equine?"]

["Sefiroth! That is the Archmage! We do not question-"]

["I will question the wisdom of our savior whilst he cavorts with creatures such as these that sought our extinction so many millennium ago. You, of all people, should know of our ancestors plight, Aerith!"]

A fairly racous arguement breaks out as both Aerith and Sefiroth try to shout each other down. Can't be having that, now.

"OY!"

The two combatants stop their squabbling.

["It's Aerith, right?"]

["Excuse me?"]

["Your name is Aerith, right?"]

["Yes, Archamge."]

Good. I didn't wanna keep referring to her as The Leader.

["I understand you're councilman's distress. I would be just as unnerved if I was asked to listen to somebody who consorted with an enemy of mine. To answer your question, Sefiroth, was it?, times have changed. The Ponies found me when I was first brought here. I was- wounded, even onto Deaths bed. The nursed me back to health, helped me adjust to this world and it's- quirks, and I even found love among them. I think you'll find that time and tide and changed things since last your people were on the surface."]

Twilight isn't following any of this, but I see Whimsey is tracking it along rather easily. She's even providing color commentary. Excellent.

["Why should we trust one who is fouled by Equines?"]

["What part of Archmage,"] I light up my staff for effect here, ["do you not understand."]

Again, with the "we're not worthy" routine.

["Okay, OKAY, stop that!] Geez! [I am not a god!"]

["Archmage!"]

A young woman parts from the crowd and judging from the rags she wears, she isn't of majority age yet.

["Have you name, Miss?"]

["I am Tifa, Milord."]

Good God…

["Archmage or Steve will do, Tifa."]

["Uh, Archmage- We- Our Matron- She is ill. Can- Can you cure her?"]

["Won't know till I try. Aerith, can you bring her here?"]

There's no hesitation. I see the crowd part to bring an older woman, most likely at middle age, brought out on litter. Wow, even without a medical degree, I can see she's in dire straights.

["What is her name?"]

Both Tifa and Aerith answer me, ["Celes."]

"Stand back, I'm gonna try Science!"

The Terrans look at me confused. I should have known better to speak Equestrain with them present. Even Twilight seems ill at ease with my joke. Oh, well…

"CURAJA!"

There we go! The color in Celes' cheeks, which was ashen before, is turning back into a baby pink. I can hear her breathing much more smoothly. I think she may have bronchitis, but my spell seems to have cured her of it. Excellent!

["Who-?"]

["Matron Celes, it is the Archmage!"]

"Hi!"

Matron Celes eyes go as wide as dinner plates. Oh, if I had a camera right now…!

["By the Maker…! The Archmage…"]

I nod, ["The Hand That Mourns gave me a message to pass onto you."]

["The Hand That- What- What did she say?"]

["It is time."]

["By all things bright, it has come to pass."]

I nod once more, ["We'll stick around here until you're well enough to travel. Then we're getting you off this forsaken rock."]

I see Celes smile. She and Hand That Mourns could be sisters. Le sigh. Just another day in the life of the Archmage…

16 Confessions: Fluttershy

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Day Three of Seven:

Pinkie Pie POV-

♪Tra-la-la!♫ Ah, the morning is clear and warm and bright! I feel a song coming on…

"♫Everything is awesome! Everything is cool when your part of a te-♫"

Hey, it's Fluttershy! Huh, she's looks kinda bummed. Aw… I don't like seeing my friends all frowny. I should cheer her up.

"Hi, Fluttershy!"

"Oh, hello Pinkie Pie."

"Everything okay?"

"Well, I guess so."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… I think…"

"♪Are you sure for sure?♫"

"…"

"Come on, Fluttershy, you can tell Auntie Pinkie."

"Ohhhh… okay. But not here."

"Wanna make some cupcakes?"

"Uh, sure, Pinkie!"

"Let's go! Let's go!"

"I'm coming…"

Is there anything better than good friends, cupcakes, and a cold soda? No, I don't think so! Well, I guess spending time with Cheesie is pretty good, but Fluttershy is just as a good a friend, if not better. And right now, Flutters needs me. She seemed okay while we were making cupcakes and she was laughing at all my jokes. But now… she just goes all sad. I don;'t know what to do.

"Hey, Flutters, what's going on? I hardly see you now and when I do, you got a upside down smilie."

"It's- It's nothing, really…"

"Come on, Flutters! You'll feel better if you talk about it."

"I don't know, Pinkie. This is kinda- personal…"

"Oh? Does this anything to do with that special somepony you found during Estrus?"

Tee-hee! Flutters is so cute when she's surprised.

"How did you know that?"

"♪Pinkie Sense!♫"

"Oh… right."

"So come on! You don't have to kiss and tell. Just tell Auntie Pinkie what's bothering you."

"I don't know, Pinkie…"

I guess I need to put on the charm, then…

"Pwease!" *SQUEE!*

"Oh, okay."

Yesh! Pinkie Cutie Face and Sound Effect strikes again!

"Well, I guess it started after He was found…"

He?

"*GASP!* You mean HIM him?"

Flutters nods.

"Oh. My. Faust!"

"Yes… I know it's not exactly ideal… I still don't know what possessed me to… It's just…"

"Felt he was lost and alone in our world, helpless like a baby bird and without any friends at all?"

"Yes…"

Oy, now I'm getting sad…

"I thought he wouldn't make it. I mean, I've seen ponies die from much less. But he recovered. Twilight… When I told her he could talk, she was incredulous, to say the least… He proved as intelligent if not more so, then her. Although he is bit sarcastic…"

"We're talking about Steven, right?"

"Yes."

"*GASP! GASP! GASP!* You're-?"

"Well, that's the thing…"

Huh?

"I mean- I feel something for him… I'm just not sure what it is."

"If isn't love or friendship, what is it?"

"I don't know. I am so scared!"

"Aw, Flutters! You don't have to be scared."

"But I am! He's- and I'm-

"Well," I add, "a new relationship is always gonna hard, and your differences can seem overwhelming at first. But that's what makes them fun!"

"Maybe you're right, Pinkie." Fluttershy saus, "I'm so used to taking care of hurt or wounded animals. That's what made me care for him so much, at first: he was gravely injured and he was the only one of his kind. I didn't expect him to think like a pony does, or even have him engage me in conversation."

"So when did you start thinking of him that way?" I gingerly ask.

"When he was able to get around on his own." Fluttershy replies, "I realized that, while he was in my care, he seemed almost relieved to have some pony to talk to. He- as we were talking, I was given the impression that he is oh so alone where he comes from. And yes, at first, he was fighting the delusion that he was out of his mind. But then he started settling into life here. He started making friends. I saw that he was a lonely soul and he needed a little kindness. That's when- That's when my compassion changed into- something else."

"Aw, Flutters! You really are head over hooves for him!"

Fluttershy nods, "I still can't believe I let him rut me…"

"Wait, say that again?"

"…"

"Flutters?"

"…No…"

"Come on, Flutters, I won't tell anypony. I can keep a secret."

"I let him rut me."

"*GGAAASSSSPPPPP!* You didn't-!"

Again, Fluttershy nods, "I did. I was so desperate! I had fought it all of Estrus. But he was there… Stevie was all alone… And I was so- I needed it so badly- All the signs were there, so I just went for it… The mare is supposed to chase the stallion, so- "

"Aw, Flutters…"

"My mama and papa always told me that I such wait until I found my special somepony. I- I made a promise to me mama- I was going to wait- Mama…"

"It's okay, Fluttershy. It's not like Cheesie and I didn't get- well, you know."

"But that's different! You really like Cheese Sandwich."

"Well, DUH! We even gave each other flowers during Hearts and Hooves Day!"

"I know, but Cheese is an Earth pony like you! You two could have foals, if- if you wanted. With Stevie, I don't even know- It's just- I don't know anything about Stevie… other than what he's said so far… And I- I let my body make the decision… Then my heart… Afterwards, I was feeling guilty and a little ashamed…"

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"We talked for a while after. He confessed some things to me. I was- surprised, maybe even a little hurt. I don't know what made me do it- I kinda- gave him an ultimatum…"

"An old tomato?"

Fluttershy shakes her head, "An ultimatum. I ordered him figure out what he wanted out of me because I didn't want to be a kept mare. Now that I look at it, it was really unfair of me- I don't even know what I want from him. It feels like- like I used him. I feel awful-"

Aww, Fluttershy is so cute when she cries!

"Come on, Flutters, it's okay. It was a rough time for you. And you're so shy around most stallions, I doubt that any of them would consider-"

Ooops! I did that "brutal honesty thing" again.

"Have you told him any of this?"

"*Sniff!* No."

"Well, maybe you should."

"I don't know… What if he really has feelings for me?"

"Then you could happy and I can be happy for you?"

"But-"

"But what?"

"He's a human…"

"Duuuhhhhh! But he's a SMART human."

"I don't know what to do…!"

Right now, neither do I. Now- now I wanna cry.

17 Chekhov's Gun

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Day Three of Seven

You know your day isn't going to go well when you wake to a massive migraine. Wouldn't you know, that is EXACTLY how this day started out. I've contemplated sending Princess Celestia a letter asking her to not shine her sun in my general vicinity. All that light is making things worse… Worse, there's this God-awful racket going on outside. What in the Hell is going on out there? Is Applejack getting rutted by a wood chipper?! What I would give for a bottle of Excedrin right now…

Well, I might as well grab a shower. That should at least wake me up some. If I still drank coffee, this would the point in my day where I consume a cup. Or ten. Whatever. My head is pounding. Hm, maybe I could scam a soda off of Pinks. Last I saw, she's got a whole refrigerator full of 'em. That could help my aching skull, yeah. First, though, shower.

I'm kinda glad AyJay and Apple Bloom put in a covered walkway to my little outhouse. This way I know I won't get Rainbow Bombed while trying to go #2. It's bad enough when she strafes me in the streets. I can only imagine- No, actually, I don't. That is the LAST THING I wanna imagine. Here's hoping there's some hot water left. As cool as Biggie is, he uses up most of the hot water in the mornings. It's a wonder Granny Smith hasn't gotten on his case about it.

AGGGHHHHHH! Fuck-me-Freddy! The water ice fucking COLD! Damn it, Big Mac! Save some for the rest of us! Okay, I'm awake now. I'm awake and I have a migraine the size and general shape of Texas. I'm afraid to ask if this day could get any worse. … Actually, I just got a crazy idea. I need to see Twilight for a minute. I got just the thing to make this headache go away…

Well, the good news is, the weather is mighty fine this morning. The sun is warm, the wind is cool, and the air is crisp with morning dew. If only my head would stop throbbing, I might actually enjoy this day. This is why I'm heading to Golden Oak Library. My most immediate plans have something to do with what Twilight has on her hooves. I'm hoping she still has it.

Ah, here we are! Man, I can never get over the fact that this giant oak tree is a library. I wonder if Twilight is in. I could just walk in the through the door, because it's a public library. But it's also the Princess' home, so maybe I should knock. Yeah, I'm gonna knock. I'd like it known that I do have some manners.

*KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!*

"Twilight?"

Ah, good the door is opening- Oh, it's Spike.

"Hey, Spike, wassup?"

The drake answers me, "Hey, Steve. Come to check out a book?"

"Nah," I answer back, "my written Equestrian isn't too good. Actually, I came here to see if Twilight was in. I think she has something I need."

"Wanna come in?" Spike asks, "I made some nachos for Twilight and myself but she left on some errand for the Crown. She might not be back for a few days."

"And she left you here on your own?"

"It's okay. It's happened before." Spike replies.

"Hmm," I muse, "well then, maybe you can help me."

"Oh! What with?"

"I left something here the other day," I tell him, "it's made of metal, fits in a palm."

"Your gun," Spike says darkly, "why do you want that?"

"I'm running an experiment of my own," I say, "I wanted to see if Twilight could use the pistol and determine if I was the only who could fire it."

"Why?" Spike questions.

"It's- hard to explain," I answer, "I'm trying to see if my running hypothesis is correct."

"And what's that?" the young drake ask me.

"That I cancel out pony magic."

Spike thinks on this for a bit. His taloned hand scratches his chin. I can tell he's debating whether to I'm making sense or if I'm talking out of my ass.

"How do you figure that?" he asks.

"Well, it's been a few things I noticed," I answer, "when I was over at Rarity's the other day, she was trying to take in my pants and every time she got a needle close to me, she lost her magical grip on it. She later told me that she was able to use her magic without any trouble whatsoever after I left. She didn't know why, but I think I do. I need to run some tests to be sure."

"Okay," Spike says, "I think I know where it is. Twilight hid it to make sure nopony got hurt with it."

"Good plan," I muse, "don't want anyone accidentally discharging the thing now."

Spike led me upstairs into his and Twilight's room. I wouldn't have known it was a bedroom if not for the bed in one corner of the room. The place is piled to the rafters with books, papers, maps, and other academic finery. I don't know how Sparklebutt sleeps in a place like this. I mean, I've done something similar when I had a large cache of graphic novels, but not on this order. Twilight Sparkle, you dirty, dirty bibliophile…

"Hand me that step ladder, Steve."

Handing the drake an oaken ladder, I say, "It's in here?"

"Yeah," Spike answers, "Twilight wanted to keep an eye on it."

"Was she afraid it was gonna explode or something?" I laugh.

That one went a little too far. Spike is fixing me with a stare that could send daggers. I need to recover from that one. That was the lamest joke I've ever said.

"So, uh, how is Twilight? Keeping busy, I suppose?"

"Oh, yeah," Spike confirms, "between her royal duties and keeping the upkeep of this library, she's been up to her horn in busy work. Then you come along-"

"-complicating things." I finish.

Spike nods, "Did you know she's spent the last month or so studying up on humans?"

I shake my head.

"See that pile over there?" Spike points a claw at a tottering tower of books next to Twilight's bed.

"You mean the leaning tower of paper over there?"

"Yup," Spike says, "that's all the books, magazine's and scientific articles she could find in the Canterlot Archives about humans."

"Dag, yo!" I exclaim, "She dedicated like you read about."

Spike nods in confirmation, "Most of what she's found are rumors and opinions. She told me there's not much empirical evidence to make your claims true."

"Girl needs to get a life. And maybe a set of spectacles."

"Yeah, well, I keep trying to tell her, humans have been gone for eight hundred years, there's no real data about them anymore."

"Well, she can at least sort fact from fiction now."

"Ah, I found it!"

Spike pulls the P226 from a shelf lined with massively heavy tomes. I'm surprised it could fit in there, there's little to no headspace. He hands me the pistol like it's a diseased thing. Not sure I blame him.

"Thanks, Spike. Now I need some place to shoot this away from Ponyville. Don't wanna startle the natives…"

"I getcha," Spike fires back, "there might someplace out by Zecora's hut… No, that won't do… Oh, wait, I know!"

"What's your story, morning glory?"

"I know just the place for your- experiment. Follow me!"

"Are we gonna take the nachos with us? Spike, nachos? Dude, come on!"

"How did I not know this place existed?" I ask Spike.

"Well, it's kinda outta the way, so maybe you wouldn't have found it on your own." Spike says.

"I can imagine that."

The clearing Spike has led me to is- well, it's gorgeous. A waterfall fills a pool of the clearest water I've ever seen, there's a meadow here that stretches on forever, and it's well past the Ponyville city limits.

"Anway," continues Spike, "this is a pretty good spot. The falls overhead will keep ponies from hearing whatever you plan to do and there's lot's of space to move around. Twilight and I found it when she was conducting some of her more explosive magical experiments."

"Thanks, Spike!"

Hmm, if Twilight isn't around…

"Hey Spike, hold up a sec."

The drake turns around just before he enters the underbrush that encloses the clearing, "Yeah?"

"You wanna help me out here? I'll let you try out the pistol."

"What?" Spike questions, "You want me- to help you shoot that- thing?"

I nod, "I wanna see if dragons have the ability to use human artifice. Besides, if you get it to work, you might have a little fun. Just don't shoot me, okay?"

"Okay!" Spike alights.

That was easier than I thought. Spike waddles over to me and I show as much as I know about proper pistol operation. On the way out here, I had the sense to engage the safety. Now I'm showing Spike how to disengage it, rack the slide, and take aim.

"Now, you don't want to pull the trigger," I advise, "you wanna squeeze it. In fact, if you wanna, think of the trigger as one of Rarity's flanks."

Drool forms from the corner of Spike's mouth as he soundlessly forms the words, "Rarity's flank."

*BLAM!*

"HOLY- Spike, you just fired the pistol!"

"I did?" Spike asks.

"You did!" I exclaim, "By all things bright, you just put cap in- where did you shoot? oh, into that tree trunk's derriere!"

"Wow," Spike says, amazed, "I wanna do it again!"

"Be my guest." I reply.

*BLAM! BLAM!*

"Wow," Spike says, awestruck, "I could conquer all of a Equestria with this thing…"

"Hey there, Junior," I say, "don't be countin' chickens when you only got some eggs."

"But that was so cool!"

"True," I remark, "but you need save a few rounds for me, eh. This is my experiment, you know?"

Spike hands my the Siggie reluctantly. Now I wonder if my aim will be any better than it was during the sky marshal incident.

"One for the money," I begin, "two for the show, three to get ready, four to blow…"

*BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Click!*

"Huh?"

"What was that?" Spike asks.

"I think the clip is empty?"

Where was the magazine release? Oh, there, by the trigger guard…

"Huh, these holes in the clip… Oh, that's what they refer to as 'witness holes.' Okay, well… According to this, there's still a few rounds in the magazine. There's supposed to be fifteen rounds in this. Hmm… Two plus the three you fired, the three I fired… That should be eight. Maybe we got a faulty ejection?"

I take a look at the ejection port and sure enough, there's a case caught between the slide and the port. Great…

"Well, that puts an end to our fun for the day."

"What happened?"

"There's a casing stuck in the ejection port." I explain, "I don't know enough about pistols to tear this one down and repair it. Sorry, dude."

"Aww…" Spike laments, "Well, that was still pretty cool. Maybe you can ask Twilight to fix it when she gets back?"

"I'll think about it." I reply, "If Twilight was nervous enough to hide this thing, then I bet she's gonna be ballistic when she finds you helped me find it and shoot it."

Spike adds, blushing, "Oh."

"You know, you're pretty cool for being a little bookworm," I tell the drake, "we should hang out sometime."

"Oh, cool!" Spike exclaims, "I'd like that! I've never had a human friend."

I say, "I've never had a dragon as a friend, either."

"Hey, let's say we get an ice cream from the new malt shop on Mane Street?"

The puns, they're going to kill me, "Sure, Spike. All this excitement has killed my headache and I feel some celebration is in order!"

18 I Scream, You scream, We All- … LINE!

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Day Four of Seven

Agh, what time is it? I grab my watch and even though the crystal is cracked and almost unreadable, I see that is nearly four in the morning. Fuck…! Why am I awake right now? The rooster's ain't crowing, neither Applejack or Big Mac are up and about, so why am I rousted from sleep? Wait a minute… It's Rainbow Dash. That's way I'm awake. … That does not explain the raging erection tenting my sheets. Grrr, I might as well figure out what that silly mare is on about.

Jesus! Now that I'm up and out of bed, that boner I have stands out more than I thought! The boxer-briefs I have on are straining to contain it. Just when I thought life couldn't any weirder than it already is… Good God, is ArDee making a racket out there. What is she doing? Did she finally get so pent up she had to relieve herself with a donkey or something? Damn it all to Hell…

I wrench my back door open and vehemently whisper, "Rainbow Prism Dash, just what in the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

Oh-ho-ho! It seems I caught the stunt mare by surprise. Nothing like a little <in flagrante delicto> action to seriously mess up your night. Or morning, as the case may be.

"Oh, Steve, I uh- Well, maybe I- THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!"

"It isn't, huh?" I muse, "So I shouldn't infer that your rutting about in my back yard with a- man, who the Hell are you? A donkey, a mule? Get outta here, the both of ya!"

The- whatever that was that had been mounted against Rainbow about ten seconds ago beats feet. The mare in question groans in exasperation (maybe he wasn't very satisfying?) and then she gives me a hard glare.

"Nice going, Mister Man," ArDee rebukes, "he was just starting to get good!"

"Don't blame me for coitus interruptus. You and your date were rutting in my garden!" I point out, "Jesus, my carrots are all kinds of wrecked…! Do you know how long it took me to procure those things?"

"Ah, who cares! Besides, I know for a fact that Soarin' can't hold a candle to you."

People who know me understand that I happen to love schadenfreude, that sick sense of joy accompanying somebody else's misery. It just so happens that Dash's current misery inspired me to come up with a new kind torture for the prismatic mare.

"Okay," I sigh, "you can come in and we'll do- whatever. One time deal though, and if you try to renege on the it, I'll so own your ass."

"Deal!" Dash exclaims.

"Well, come on in," I groan, "get yerself comfortable."

Just what I figured, Dash is making her way to my bedroom. The soft creak I hear is her getting on my bed. (I was able to get a spring mattress after I somehow destroyed the goose feather one AyJay gave me.) I feel an evil laugh coming on…

I ask Dash,"Making yerself at home, I see?"

"Aw yeah," Dash coos, "your bed is really comfy."

"It should be, I say,"or else I'd be awake more often at this hour."

Dash gets a look on her face like she can tell what's keeping me awake tonight. Let her fantasize. She has no idea what's coming…

"So, what do you want to do tonight, Brain?"

Dash looks a little confused, "Huh?"

"I said, 'what do you want to do tonight?'"

"Oh," Dash exclaims, "welllll, I was hoping for a little 'fan service.'"

"Who's the fan," I ask, "who's gettin' the service?"

Dash says, "Me."

Taking off my pants and shirt, I give Dash a nod. Thankfully it's really dark at this hour of the morning. I can imagine the look I would get if Dash could see this sinister sneer on my face.

I lay down next to Dash, making a point of rubbing my flaccid member along her plot and say, "You're going to like this."

"Oh, I bet I- WHOA!"

I catch Dash unawares as I hoist her up in my arms. I have a perfect view of her plot and my first act of my- let's call it revenge, is to take my tongue and lick it along the slit of her marehood. She gasps in surprise but I can tell by her moans that it is a pleasant surprise. I continue licking along her slit until I can taste love juices from her snatch.

"Oh, wow- Steven," Dash pants, "I didn't know- you could- do that!"

"Oh, I Googled that." I smugly say.

"What- do- you- mean?" Dash gasps.

"None of your never mind." I reply and continue lapping at Dash's rapidly heating plot.

"Oh, Celestia-" Rainbow is over the moon now, "I- I- so good-!"

"I told you you'd like this."

Dash then screams, and I feel her shake in my arms. An extra squirt of fluid spills out of her slit, and I swallow every drop of it.

"I didn't know that a mare's juice could taste so good."

"You- should- try- it- more- often-!" Dash cries.

Alright, I nearly have her there. She just had another orgasm and the look on her face is pure joy. Time for the grand finale. I set Dash down back on the bed; I hear her moan. She isn't moaning after I slide my erection along her slit again. She's gasping and practically begging for more. I am eager to oblige, but probably not in the way Dash thinks.

"You've been such a good girl during all this, Dash," I croon, "here's a reward for your patience."

"I can't wAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"

Oh. My. Gawd! This is what feels like to be balls deep in an anus? Man, does this feel good! I can hardly contain myself here. Dash, on the other hand, is confused and more than a little dismayed about what's going on. Something tells me she's never had anal sex before. I guess she can cross this off her bucket list, then. I think I'll just ease in here… No need to cause insult to injury, eh?

"Steve- ugh! What- Agh! are- Hngh! you- Ahhh! doing?!"

"Surprised, aren't you?" I tease, "This is for waking me up at most ungodly hour!"

You know, I can't tell if Rainbow is panicking or relishing the sensation of having her backdoor pounded. I gotta say that this is actually quite nice. I rather like this. Mind you, Dash is pretty tight back here. I can hardly move and even with all the extra lubrication I took from Rainbow's oozing slit, it's getting bone dry back here. Still, best feeling ever!

"Steve- Steve- Ugh! Don't- D-don't- stop!"

Oh-ho! She likey! Dash is a dirty little mare, ain't she? I think this deserves another good push. Let me just get in one good thrust here…

*SMACK!* I swat Rainbow's rump with a free hand.

"Ahhh!" Dash cries.

"Do you like that, Dashie?" I whisper hotly in her ear.

"Th-the D-D-Dash- likes!"

I swat her rump again, harder.

"Aghhhh!" Rainbow cries.

"Dirty girls get the switch, Dash."

I swat her again and the moan she produces is equal parts pain and bliss. I never took Dash for a sadomasochist. You think you know someone…

"Steve," Dash cries, "What- ever- you're- doing- don't- stop!"

Unfortunately, that's the exact moment my body says, "Yep, that's about all we can take now," and feel my orgasm hit. My sperm floods Rainbow's anus; the effect of all that fluid in such a tight, dry hole makes it easier for me to continue thrusting. I do so until Dash gets off one more time. As I pull out, I see a stream of white spilling from the fudge maker in her plot.

"Hey there!" Applejack calls out.

It's about ten in the morning, right around the time I wake up anyway.

"Hey AyJay. Sleep well?"

"Ah reckon I did," Applejack tells me, "though Ah not sure fer how long. Lone Star an' Ah were up most o' tha night."

"You don't say?"

"Eyup!" AyJay confirms, "Best sleep Ah ever got."

I ask, "Is Star staying in the guest room or-?"

"Ya know," AyJay tells me, "it ain't proper of ya to ask that."

"Consider it dropped."

AyJay nods, then looks off to the horizon, "Say, is that Rainbow Dash trottin' outta here?"

"Yeah," I affirm, "She dropped by early this morning."

"Ah thought ya were keepin' her at a distance?" the plantation owner asks.

"Yeah, I was," I inform her, "but her date with Soarin' didn't go so well. She needed a shoulder to cry on."

"Why is she- walkin' funneh?"

"Well," I explain, "she got a little upset last night, as you can imagine, and she busted a chair or two. I think she's got some splinters in her rump, but she won't tell me where."

It's a lie, but I'm certain AyJay doesn't pick up on it.

AyJay laughs and says, "That's Rainbow fer ya. Proud as a peacock and twice as stubborn."

I nod for confirmation.

"Oh, by tha way," AyJay continues, "got a letter fer ya this mornin'."

"A letter, huh?" I say, "Got it with ya?"

"Yeah," AyJay says, "right here."

Applejack hands me, well more like, gives me an envelope from between her teeth; it's addressed to me in purple ink and originates from Golden Oak Library.

"Hmm, could it be from Twahlahght?" AyJay asks me.

"Won't know until I open it." I answer; I proceed to tear the letter open.

"Ah, now this is cool!"

"What is it?" AyJay asks.

"It's Spike," I reply, "he and I were testing something yesterday and I told him we should hang out more. This letter is from him and he's telling me that he has some time later today to chill."

"Well that's nice of him," AyJat says, "Spike has plenty of friends, but most of 'em happen to be Twahlahght and the Elements. Ah bet he could use a little male companionship."

"I do owe him for helping me out yesterday." I say, "That, I wanna try that Hayburger place. Haven't been there yet."

The Hayburger is packed around four in the afternoon. Thank God I have today off. If I'm early, I guess I can order something before Spike-

"Steve!"

Ah, there's the drake now.

"Yo, Spike," I call, "what's up wit yo' bad self?"

"Not much," Spike replies, "Twilight usually has me working like a dog until early evening but with her out of town, I get to do whatever I want!"

"Does that mean you get a chance to sleep in?" I ask.

"You bet!" Spike replies.

"You hungry, man? I'm starved over here."

Spike answers, "Sure, I could go for something."

"What's good here?" I ask as we sidle up to the counter.

"The double hayburger is good, but you should watch it," Spike tells me,"that thing is GREASY."

"I'll keep that in mind."

I order up a hayburger with everything on it and a large soda. Spike does the same. When we get our orders we beeline to the next available booth. Those things are at a premium at this time of day.

"Hmm," I muse, "smells good!"

"Time to dig in!" Spike exclaims and we do so with gusto.

I never thought that a hamburger could made of hay and still taste good. Considering my earlier fiasco with hay bacon, I had my doubts. Still this is pretty good. Either my palate is getting used to this or the food really is that good. The fries are even better, if that's to be believed. That sinister voice in the back of my head tells me that nothing made from hay should be this exquisite. It tells me that is but a dream but I refuse to listen. Things are going too well be anything but real for me.

*BURP!*

"Ah," I moan, "that tasted good, both going down and coming up!"

"You said it!" Spike confirms, "thanks for meeting me here."

"It's my pleasure, Spike."

"Say, uh,-"

"Something on your mind, Spike?"

"Well, I- Nah, you'd just laugh at me." Spike dismisses.

"You know," I say, "if it's something that's bothering you, you would feel better talking about it instead of brooding over it."

Spike sighs, "Well, you see, I need some advice…"

"Advise on what?" I ask.

"Well, you see," he starts, "I have this- filly that I really like."

Is he talking about Sweetie Belle? She's cute and all, I guess. I notice he gets a dreamy look in his eye whenever Sweetie is in the room.

"Okay," I comment, "and you want to ask her out or something?"

Spike nods, "Yeah. But she's so much more sophisticated than I and well… She's a pony and I'm a dragon. Do you think anything like that could happen?"

"I think," I respond, "that if you really like her, you can bridge any differences you have. I mean, you and Sweetie Belle are so cute together."

"Sweetie Belle," Spike says, "I was talking about Rarity."

"Oh, wow," I say, "dude, that is aiming high! Well, even if she rejects you, you should give it a shot. You can spend an entire lifetime pining over the mare and never get anywhere with her or you could swing for the fences and try not to get struck out."

"Swing for the fences?" Spike asks.

"It's a baseball thing," I answer, "it's a game where I come from."

"Oh," Spike says, "but what if she-"

"Then at least you know where you stand." I reply, "I'm reminded of something The Prophet once said."

"The Prophet?" Spike asks.

"Yeah, he's a religious figure from back home." I answer, "Dude may be old, but his wisdom is sound and he never fails with excellent advice."

"So what did he say?" Spike inquires.

"I don't remember the exact words he used, but he said something along the lines of, 'If you want to land the girl of your dreams, first make yourself perfect.' That may not be an exact quote, but the gist of it was that if you're seeking Rarity's hoof in companionship, you should do everything you can to make yourself a shining example in her eyes. Only then well she overlook all the differences seen in you and accept you as you are."

"Wow, Steve," Spike exclaims, "you really think that will work?"

"Ain't nothin' doin' but the doin'." I answer.

"Thanks Steve," Spike says, "watch out Rarity! The next time you see me, I'm going to be the knight-in-shining-armor you wish for!"

Good luck, Little Dude. You're gonna need it.

19 And Then There Was Gilda…

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Day Four of Seven (Late Afternoon)

Spike and I were enjoying a lazy breeze while we ate gelato on a park bench. Ponyville Park was usually quite this time of day. I know, because I come here when I get off work sometimes and just watch the ponies play. (Much to the concern of several mothers, unfortunately.) I'll sometimes find a table, break out some pencils and paper, and draw until my brain is mush. Or sometimes I'll just lie in the grass, my crutches propped against a tree and watch the clouds roll by. Although, with ArDee on weather patrol, that sometimes takes some doing.

Today, Dash was enjoying some well deserved time off. You would want some time off, too, if you smashed head first into thick glass wall. I overheard Pinkie Pie say that Dash suffered a moderate concussion. The docs are keeping her in the head trauma ward just to make sure there are no lasting effects. I bet she's yukking it up, with a healthy stack of Daring Do books at her bedside. Good thing, too. I'd rather not think that Rainbows inattentiveness may have been the result of me popping her anal cherry. Not that she complained about it…

Truesbob, I'm still mulling over whether I should be dating Fluttershy or not. As much as it pains me to say, she's the only mare in town I would consider attractive. Rarity, though pretty, is too high maintenance for my ass. I'm pretty sure Spike would roast me if I try to put moves on "his mare." (I can tell that the little guy is more than infatuated with the seamstress; he's in full on adoration mode. It borders on obsession but I'd never tell him that. I'm quietly surprised he hasn't venerated the very ground she walks on.) There are a few candidates I had considered, but those mares are currently in relationships and I am not one to cock-block.

I dunno… With Flutters, I feel a kindred spirit. I was never an extrovert. I spent my weekends at home, reading a good book or watching Grimm. Sometimes I'd pop in a Blue-Ray disc of Lucky Star, Working, or even Suzumiya Haruhi no Yûutsu when I was feeling especially bored. I didn't have many friends outside of work and for all intents, purposes, and species, I wasn't one to hang out in bars or go clubbing. That's not to say I didn't know how to have fun. (I'm a surprisingly good dancer!) I just never really felt comfortable in large crowds. (Likely, I have a mild case of Agoraphobia. I should have started seeing a psychiatrist after graduating high school, but could never afford to.)

Anyway, Flutters and I make a match, on paper. The Prophet was quick to point out in one General Conference that opposites attract for a reason. So far, though, I haven't met an opposite to me. Unless you count Rainbow Dash and I generally try not to. Hmm, now that I think about it, most of my pony friends reflect different aspects of my own personality. I can be brave like ArDee, honest like AyJay, charitable like Rares, comedic like Pinks, considerate like Flutters, and Twilight and I have something in that we have a lust for learning. (Albeit, I like to learn things that interest me, whereas Twilight learns just to learn, it seems.)

"Hey, Steve," Spike calls, "do you think we can fire your gun again anytime soon?"

"I dunno," I tell the drake, "I need help in fixing the thing and the only pony I know who could do so is probably gonna say no."

"Yeah, I don't think Twilight is gonna want to fix up something so dangerous." Spike lamented.

I reply, "It's only dangerous in the wrong hands- hooves, whatever. If what I theorize is correct, no pony in town or beyond should be able to use it properly."

"Except for me." Spike adds.

"Except for you," I confirm, "methinks a body would have need of an opposable thumb."

"Well, that still leaves a few creatures on Terra that could do it…" Spike muses.

"Yeah, I gue- Wait, what?"

"Oh, you know," Spike explains, "Minotaurs, griffons, other dragons…"

"In other words, we should keep that pistol well away from those- creatures." I say.

Spike nods, "Besides, I think the Minotaurs would have harsh things to say if discovered that a human wound it's way to our world."

"Uh," I start, "why- why would that be?"

"Well… I think it has something to do with a myth they have about the creation of the world. Something about a war between gods or something?" Spike answered.

"Okay, I think that's all I wanna hear about this subject," I say, "so, any plans for the Lady Rarity?"

Spike is- Spike is looking at something off on the horizon. What could he-?

I ask, "Spike, you okay there buddy?"

He continues to stare at something…

"Spike? Spike! Earth to Spike!"

"… Gilda?" the drake says at last.

"Gilda?" I wonder, "What is a Gil-"

"HEADS UP, GEEKS!"

DUDE! That was fucking close! What was that streak of brown, white, and yellow? And why do I get an impression of feathers-?

"Yes! Gilda makes another spectacular landing!"

Okay, now I've seen it all. Standing proud in front of Spike and I is a beast out of Greek legend. Part eagle, part lion, all attitude, it prances in place as my young drake companion and I watch. And, oh, what a time for those phantom limb pains to strike! I'm getting this burning sensation where my left foot once was; it's begging me to scratch it.

"What are you dweebs staring at? Haven't you two ever seen awesomeness on a stick?" says the strange figure before us.

"I have," I say, smirking, "but Robert Downey Junior, you are not."

The creature, which I guess must be a griffon, gives me a sour look, "Wat chu talkn' about, pasty?"

Spike giggles a little, uttering, "Pasty!" sotto voce.

"I'm saying," I rejoinder, "that you are not awesome. Reckless, a showboat, significantly egotistical, but in no way awesome."

"Who are you," the griffon growls, "to question my cred?"

"The name Amborse, Steven Ambrose, license to ill."

The griffon looks affronted, "The name is Gilda, Pasty, and you just got on my bad side."

"Is that the side were you got splashed with pastel green?" I jeer, "Because that is DEFINITELY not a good look for you."

"ARGGGHHHH!" Gilda bellows and she takes to wing, aiming right for me. I duck, which is a whole harder with a missing calf, and just manage to dodge her charge.

"Come 'ere, Pasty! I wanna give you a handshake!"

"No thanks," I quip, "I haven't had my Tetanus shot this decade."

Gilda lets loose with a war cry as I position myself near the tree whose shade Spike and I were enjoying. Gilda soars in, pitching and yawing just right to hit me full force. I have to time this just right- Any second now- almost- NOW!

*THWACK!*

"Oh, that has to hurt!" Spike comments.

"Yep," I say, "she's gonna be pickin' up her teeth for a week."

"This isn't isn't over," Gilda says, her voice muffled by the amount of trunk her beak punctured upon crashing, "gonna see you soon."

"Don't count on it," I tell her, "I got more skills than you can imagine!"

"You really made her mad!" Spike laughed.

"I know!" I chortled, "Have you ever seen anybody so foolish?!"

Spike and I were going back to the Golden Oak and we haven't stop laughing since. Gilda's enraged tirades against yours truly put anything George Carlin had to shame! As horrible as it is to make merry about someone else's misery, I couldn't help it with that griffon. She kept walking into them!

"D'ya think she'll get over ramming beak-first into that old birch tree?" I ask.

"Probably not," Spike admits, "but it serves her right!"

"Something tells me there's some bad blood here."

Spike nods, "There sure is! Last time Gilda was here, she snapped at everypony after falling for Rainbow Dash's every prank."

"So no love lost there, eh?" I question.

Spike shakes his head.

I have ask this, or it's gonna drive me ape shit, "By the by, am I really that pasty looking?"

"Well…" Spike starts, "I don't really know. Humans are sorta mythical around here. Nopony has any basis to compare, really."

"That's what I was afraid of." I lament.

"Hey, don't worry," Spike reassures me, "Gilda has always been a bit brash. It's kinda her thing."

"If that's the case, methinks she has found a contender for her crown," I say, "and she doesn't know me yet."

"HEADS UP, LOSERS!"

It seems our griffon friend has recovered from her embarrassment.

"Steve, look out!" Spike exclaims.

I may not be able to see her coming, I can sure hear her. If I time this right, she's gonna a beakful of cobble stones for her trouble. Any second now… That's it, that's it… follow the birdie…

*CRASH!*

Gilda has just smashed head first into a building. She also bowled over several ponies in her flight path. They're dazed but certainly none the worse for wear. Gilda, on the other hand, is bruised, bleeding, and pissed. I'm trying hard to suppress a laugh.

"That wasn't funny, Pasty!" the griffon yells.

"You're right," I chortle, "THAT WAS HILARIOUS!"

"YOU…!" Gilda growls.

In a second, she's off her tail feathers and rushing right towards me. Part of me is tempted to break out a red cape and taunt her like a bull. The other part of me wants to karate chop the back of her head.

"Olé!" I beam as Gilda blows past me. I don't how a cape ended up in my hands, but I'm none too concerned about it right now.

"You are dead, Pasty!" Gilda seethes as rushes toward me again.

"I thought I was already dead…" I quip. Gilda's charge is even clumsier than the first; I easy side step it, even in crutches.

But Gilda hasn't given up yet. She takes a turn from off a tree and puts on a burst of speed. I have little time to dodge it. My only option: curl up into a ball as best I can and hope I deflect a greater deal of the attack away from vital organs.

"NOT THE FACE! NOT THE FACE!" I scream.

Gilda's charge- It should have connected. She was moving faster than I could counter and yet- I'm still here. <Was is das?>

"S-Steve…" stammers Spike.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"How-How did y-you- do that?"

"Do what, Spike?"

The drake pulls one of my arms from over my head and I see what shouldn't really be possible if I wasn't unicorn. Gilda is sprawled out against a solid yet translucent barrier. I can see a shimmer and distortion around where Gilda has face planted. I have to see… As I stand up, I take a look around, taking into account the presence of unicorns or even an alicorn. No dice. Whoever or whatever put this field is nowhere to be seen. As far as I know, I'm not magical.

"Huh," I muse, "whodda thunk it?"

"Steve, is there something you're not telling me?" Spike asks.

"Not that I know of," I tell Spike, "but Ponyville's always been kinda weird, right?"

Spike shrugs.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like some ice cream." I say, non sequitor.

"Didn't we just have gelato?" Spike says.

"Yeah, we did," I answer, "but don't tell me you would say no to ice cream?"

Spike's face lights up in a grin. I bet he's thinking of sprinkles and whipped cream right now.

"I- jus- wanid- tasee- Rainbo- Dast-"

Gilda voice comes out muffled because she's still plastered to the invisible screen.

"If'n you're lookin' for her," I say, "you might wanna try Ponyville General. She's-" I DO NOT want to say what Dash and I were up to this morning, especially since A.) Spike is here and B.) I'm not particularly proud of it myself, "had a rather traumatic morning, especially after she flew into a glass wall."

"T'anks." the griffon says.

I reply, "Don't mention it."

"Ya know-" Gilda calls out, "you ain't half bad, Pasty."

"I'll try to remember that for later," I say, then turn to Spike again, "Ice cream?"

"ICE CREAM!" Spike beams.

Ah, early evening in Ponyville! So quiet, so cool, so comfortable. Although the town is significantly smaller than Laredo is, Ponyville is a lot more peaceful at this hour. I like it, lots. Celestia's sun is setting, causing the sky to light up in a palette worth of warm colors and Luna's moon is slowly rising. It looks to a be a waning moon; part of the surface is in a crescent-shaped shadow. No breeze tonight, either. I guess the weather team is keeping things calm tonight. I'm still getting over the idea that the weather is controlled here.

As far back as I can remember, I've witnessed thunderstorms, lighting storms, hail storms, and slept part way through at least one tornado. Humans haven't figured out how to control the clime…Which makes it even crazier that these ponies can do it. If what they has is magic, and if they have such control over it all, then I wonder what else they can do with it? I just hope they don't turn it against me. The last time Twilight set a spell on me, I wound up with blood pouring out of my ears. Not a very pleasant day, believe you me.

That begs, still, another question: why does their magic hurt me so? It's almost as if I have such a high level of resistance to their mana or something. Tffft! Listen to me now! Pulling out all that Dungeons & Dragons stuff! Next thing you'll know, I'll using Final Fantasy terms for basic enchantments or something!! I do have to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there is something to the dreams I've been having of late. I don't want to go into too much detail, but I've been seeing- No, I'm not gonna go there. Too much pain, too much misery, way too much death. This "Empire of Terra" stuff is gonna drive me mad! Or at least madder than I already am.

It wouldn't be so bad if the dreams were once every fortnight or something. That's how it all started out. Now they seem to happen every other night. The last one was particularly disturbing because I witnessed a pony army raze a human settlement to the ground. I wonder if there are historical records from way back when? I bet nothing like this has been mentioned in current Equestrian history books. Just how would you explain the extermination of millions of humans to a peaceful Equestria? I'm betting that would be a sociopolitical nightmare… Who even knows if Princesses Celestia and Luna even have memories of that day an age? I have to think two nigh-immortal beings such as those would have a recollection of those events, even if it isn't clear. Man, why am I even bothering to think about this shit?! They're only dreams…

I think tonight would a good time to break out the hammock.

20 Friends in High Places

View Online

Day Five of Seven

Uggghhhh! What a weird fucking dream! I can't begin to understand half of what went on…

Klaxons blare all throughout the facility. As I run, several others in the House of Praetorian rush around with me, some still slipping into techno-kinetic combat armor. The Ancillary Unit in charge of Harvest Station is repeating the report from Nexus: a massive energetic surge was detected from the center of Bedlam Woods. Spikes run all across the spectrum. My heart beats in triple time, and I wonder, not for the first time, why I ever considered transferring from House of Intelligentsia to House of Praetorian. I'm as much as artist as I am a soldier. Still, the Empire needs me; I would be remiss in answering it's summons.

Upon entering Central Command, I see that Valeria standing at the Console, coordinating with the command of troopers nearest to Bedlam. Atlas House is investigating as well, but they are too far away at the moment. I give her a slight nod while I retrieve my particle plasma rifle and electron blade. I doubt that the anomaly is any danger to the Empire, it's sudden appearance could be trouble politically, though. The House of Proletariat is always looking for an excuse to wage a war…

"Hail, Ambrose." Valeria calls to me.

"Well met, Valeria," I reply, "it isn't a morning until a crisis calls, eh? What have we this morn?"

Valeria frowns and calls up the holographic display. She then informs me of the issue:

"About a standard hour ago, members of the Energy Bureau detected a sizable discharge of ambient particles at coordinates one-two-eight mark six-three-four, Grid Seven. Spikes from the emissions are off the scale. Alpha, Gamma, Theta, Omega and Phi emissions are surpassing any known reading. Intelligentsia is suggesting we have a Surge Break."

"Surge Break?" I question, "Valeria, you must jest! The last time a Surge Break occurred, those Goddess awful lizards emerged. House Caduceus spent years pouring over the bodies of the dead!"

Valeria shrugs, "I wish I had better news, but the signals are relatively similar. The Surge Break is small in origin, but the energy dispersal is spectrum wide. I need your team to investigate."

Sighing, I relent, "For the Honour, Glory, and Sovereignty of the Empire, it shall be done."

I turn to see my team already assembled in tactical armoured carapace. As professional as ever, given our ofttimes strange assignments.

"Gentle Folk, we have report of a Surge Break deep inside the Wood of Bedlam. The energy transmissions are off the scale, so temper your armour with ray shielding, level ten. I don't think I have to remind you of the last time a Surge Break like this happened?"

One of my troopers, a slight young woman with a Specialty Weapons Badge on her shoulder says, "Those dragyns emerged… Should we go for particle shielding, too, My Lord?"

"Nay," I answer, "whatever is causing the disturbance is relatively small, albeit it's dispersing energies across the whole of the spectrum. I want full radiation countermeasures before touchdown. Understood?"

My team replies, in unison, "Heard, Understood, Accepted."

"Excellent," I beam, "rotors up in five. Make the wind envious."

A half hour passes before the Albatross VTOL we ride descends on Bedlam Wood. It is called such because the flora and fauna here are tamer than in any forest within the Empire. The climate, though, is often chaotic. It's not unusual for a freak twister or sudden thunderstorm to break out over these woods. The sky this dawn is as turbulent as always; the winds are gusting past sixty knots and sandy particulate is striking heavily against the fuselage.

"Lords and Ladies," calls out the pilot, "we have just arrived at the drop zone. Winds are strong, so keep low to avoid detritus. We have your disturbance at mark eight-seven-two by one-seven-nine."

"Copy," I reply, "House of Praetorian, fall out!"

My squad and I hit the ground as a powerful gust hits the drop zone. No sooner do my own feet touch Earth do my sensors pick up the disturbance. My compass ring points out the direction the pilot indicated, but now shows where the trouble is emanating from at least twenty meters away on the diagonal. I point in that direction and we march off.

Ahead of us is a structure. The building is a long abandoned House of Mason campus. They were trying to coax medicines out of the local flora but to no avail. The Proletariat pulled the funding for their research and they filed back to the Capitol. My sensors give me a false-color reading from the very center of the building. This looks ominous…

"Overwatch," calls my platoon sergeant, Castor, "check those corners."

As pairs peel off from the squad, I catch up with my Sergeant and decide on a private chat.

"Tell me, Castor," I say, "does this feel at all frightening to you?"

"Aye," Castor confirms, "I pray it isn't those dragyns. I was there when Bountiful was razed. I'll never get the smell of burning flesh out of my nose."

"I'm going to scout ahead," I tell him, "have Alpha and Beta Lance on standby. If things get hairy, get Gamma and Delta Lance in and neutralize any- opposition."

"Yes, My Lord," Castor says, "by the by, are you checking these readings?"

"Aye," I reply, "Alpha is off scale. So are Theta and Sigma. Omega is fluctuating so badly, I don't think the register is capable of reading it anymore."

"A psionic event?" Castor asks me.

"Likely," I answer, "but we need to confirm."

It's then that I march into the building. The place is eerie in the worst way. The House of Mason usually kept immaculately clean facilities, but time and tide have allowed Nature to take over here. Thick tendrils of ivy coat the walls; cracks are creeping up the concrete walls and onto the ceiling. The power generator has long since failed, but the event we are investigating seems to give power to the remaining lighting. As I move down corridors and descend staircases, I see stuttering flashes made by faulty luminescence panels.

Then, just as I am nearing the source of today's crisis, my sensors read that it has stopped. Ahead of me, the luminescence panels go dark. I kick on my portable torches on my shoulder just to cut through the gloom. As I do so, the active motion detection ring on my heads up display goes live. Something is in the room with me…

"Hail fellow!" I call, "We come in peace."

More movement, coming from my ten o'clock and quickly.

"Do not be alarmed," I call out, "we are here only to investigate a disturbance."

I have to admit to myself that my appearance does not engender much confidence. Clad in fully assembled tactical armoured carapace, wielding a particle plasma rifle, I might instill abject horror to simpler minds. It's then I notice the the motion detector has spotted movement again, from behind me. And moving slower… I turn to the source of the movement, slowly and with great caution.

Standing in one of the portals of the room is a pony. It is not like any pony I have ever seen before, though. The body is slim, the eyes wide and expressive, the posture one of both curiosity and fright. Most intriguing about this creature is the protuberance sprouting from the forehead. It spirals from it's base to the tip of the horn. Said tip is almost as sharp as a sonic pike head. I trust not to scare it further.

"'Tis alright, little one." I say soothingly, "no harm shall come to you."

"Who-" the creature says much to my astonishment, "Who- are you?"

The creatures voice is feminine. Would I be right in assuming this pony is a mare?

"Who- Who am I?" I question.

The horned pony nods, "Yes, who are you? What are you?"

"I am Ambrose, from the House Praetorian, of the Terran Empire. I am a soldier in service to his Matron."

"Are you-?" the pony asks, "Are you a pony?"

"A- pony?" I reply, "No, no, I am a human."

"Hoo-man?" the pony says.

"Yes, Human." I confirm, "Praytell, who are you, little pony?"

"Who am I?" the pony asks, "I am Astraeus."

The pony Astraeus then turns it's head, looking back down the corridor that that I assume she emerged from.

"Eos, Eos!" she calls, "Come. There is no threat."

From behind Astraeus comes another pony. This one is absent a horn, but what alarms me is that it sports wings. Following in the wake of this Eos, is a smaller pony, bearing both horn and wings. How very curious… A foal, mayhaps, maybe their offspring?

"Darling, is all well?" Eos questions; it's voice is masculine so an assumption of this one being a stallion wouldn't be far off.

"Yes," Astraeus confirms, "and we have a visitor."

Eos looks me up and down, a look of consternation on his face.

"He is not a pony." Eos says with a huff.

"No, Beloved," Astraeus says, "He is a hoo-man."

Astraeus then bends down to the little foal sitting besides Eos. She nuzzles the little pony motherly.

"Celestia, can you say 'hoo-man?'"

The little foal Celestia does nothing but gurgle, her muzzle clamped onto a protein stick no doubt nicked from stores in the cafeteria.

"She is still young, Astraeus," Eos says, then adds disdainfully, "She should not be exposed to this- beast."

I'm affronted, but show no sign of it.

"I assure you, sir, we mean no harm." I say, "We, my squad and I, are investigating a strange electromagnetic phenomenon. Our equipment says it's-"

I was going to say "here," but at that very moment, the foal named Celestia had her horn light up. The register in my armor lights up again, just as it had before. The signature was the same. Now I knew the source. I watched as the foal jabbered, eyes locked on a familiar object: my knife.

"It seems Tia has found a new toy." Astraeus coos.

"Not my first choice," I say, "Is she doing that?"

Astraeus and Eos look upon their child; it is Eos who answers, "Yes, she certainly is. She takes after her mother in that regard."

I look to both the unicorn and the Pegasus and say, "With a attitude of thanksgiving, I welcome you to the Terran Empire."

Like I said, strange dream…

I have only one complaint about hammocks: they make waking up exceptionally painful. When I woke up this morning, I turned to get out of the hammock, only to fall flat on my face. My nose is still sore from where I smashed into my porch. Next time, i'm going to lay down a mattress or something under the hammock to make sure I don't injure myself. Now that I'm thoroughly embarrassed, it's time to get on with my day.

I start by getting in a shower. Thankfully, Big Mac hasn't gotten his in yet, so there is plenty of hot water this morning. I don't feel like serving Biggie with a taste of his own medicine, so I keep the shower short. Once I'm done, I dry off and notice the whiskers forming on my chin and jaw. I've never grown a full beard before; I have a wispy mustache and some sparse whiskers and that's it. Biggie offered to cut them down for me, but his straight razor looked more like a machete to me, so I declined.

I did have the good fortune of having some tools on hand to clean me up. Fluttershy and her friends were able to recover some more human artifice after I was brought in. The pile of tablets, smartphones, and other assorted doodads filled Flutters coffee table. I took to calling it the Artifact Pile. Among all the useless pieces of machinery in the pile, I found some rather interesting things, stuff like a Samsung GalaxyS Four (a nice upgrade to my faulty Galaxy TXT phone), a Norelco Razor, some poor kids 3DS-XL, an Apple iPad and set of Monster headphones. Many of those devices needed charging. Thankfully, a geek was among the passengers of my flight and brought with them a solar charger and more than twenty bits to attach to these desperate devices.

I used the Norelco to give me a clean shave, then I got dressed. Most of the clothes I have are new acquisitions made by Rarity. Some of them, though, are clothes found in suitcases discovered in another part of the Everfree. Twilight's good friend, Zecora, found them all and told her that a swatch of forest two miles long and three miles wide was littered with the stuff. What the zebra brought in were the most intact of the luggage. And now that I'm slimming down (I've gotten to 160 pounds, so far), I can fit some of the more normal clothes. I say normal because the ponies didn't have a clue about human fashion and at first tried to dress me in a woman's evening dress. Less said about that, the better.

As I head out, I see Applejack on her front stoop, twiddling around with a haystack. In her hooves is a letter. If Applejack isn't reading it, I bet it's for me.

"Hey there, sugarcube!"

"Howdy, Ayjay! Got somethin' fer me?"

"Sure do," the orchard owner says, "have a gander."

Sure enough, I do have mail. I don't recognize the script, though.There's also a wax seal on it. Where did this come from?

"Wow, Ah didn't think you'd get a letteh from Princess Celestia so soon."

"W-w-wait," I stammer, "this is a letter from Princess Celestia?"

"Sure looks it," AyJay confirms, "why don't ya open it?"

"Okay…"

Once open it, I see a rather elegant hand (hoof) has written to me in English. Apparently, the Sun Princess knows I can't read Equestrian.

Dear Mr. Steven Ambrose,
It has come to my attention, from my faithful student, Twilight, that you have arrived in our world. With your arrival, many strange and wondrous things has occurred. I wish to welcome you to our land of Equestria. I also humbly request your presence in Canterlot for a formal audience as soon as you are able. I am sending a chariot to collect you from your residence at Sweet Apple Acres. Please send your reservation of attendance through Spike the Dragon.
Co-Ruler of Equestria, and a potential friend,
Princess Celestia.

"How about that?" I quip, "Any idea how I present myself to Her Royal Highness?"

AyJay gets a snide smile on her lips before saying, "Don't think too much about it. Princess Celestia is pretteh laid back for a royal."

"I gotta keep that in mind." I say, "Guess I need to send off a letter then… One question, though: why do I need to reply via Spike?"

"He sends off all of Twahlahghts mail." AyJay answers, "His flames send letters out to the Princesses. Twahlahght told me his flames are enchanted to do that or somethin'."

"Well, that is intriguing." I muse, "Better go pay my dragon buddy a visit, then."

At half past three, a flying chariot settles in front of my apartment. I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. I'll need to keep my eyes closed so I don't vomit all over the carriage. My acrophobia is gonna take one Hell of a hit today. The Pegasi roll up to my porch. I'm dressed like I usually am: blue jeans, compression shirt under a thermal hoodie, and one steel toed boot. ('Cause the other leg is missing some parts, yeah.) I gingerly get in the chariot and off we go.

It doesn't take us that long to get there, but the sensations of being in flight, coupled with the lurching about of the chariot, keep my gorge risen and my fear at lengths I've never heretofore seen. I don't know how I stayed upright through that ride. But, oh, wow! The magnificence of this place! Canterlot is like Paris, Las Vegas, New York and Japan's Akihabara District all rolled into one!! I've never been one for big cities, but this place… I could spend a year exploring every street and shop and I'd never get bored.

Unfortunately, I'm not here for the dime tour. No sooner am I dropped off at the palace does a contingent of guards come up to escort me. All that gold and silver, though… I've made the erroneous assumption that Equestria is a land simple creatures with simple desires. One look at these unicorn soldiers, and I realize, these people are awash in precious metals. I am disappoint, son. Not just precious, I see. Marble, granite, jewels of every shape and color, and the odd precious stone as well. My inner architect is screaming in delight.

Wow, is this the throne room? High and holy fuck! The vaulted ceiling here… I bet the acoustics are amazing! (Damn, why did my inner monologue go all Rob Dyrdek just now?) The pomp and pageantry in here is just simply unbelievable. I'm surprised none of the lower class ponies are starving! How do they manage the upkeep of this place?

"I see you're enjoying my home." says a soft regal voice.

Well, now, look at this! There's a pristine ivory alicorn mare waltzing up to one of the thrones. She has golden ornaments on her legs and around her hooves. I see a stylized sun on her flank; that must be her brand or "cutie mark" as I've heard Sweetie belle say. This has to be Princess Celestia. I get a powerful sense of déjà vu; the last time I saw this alicorn, she was a foal in my dream. My, my, has she grown! Her eyes are large and properly expressive, her horn has grown to length I find intriguing, and the tiny wings her younger self had are now long and wide. I wonder how long it took for her to get that way…

"I am," I say, "This place is magnificent! Never seen the like before…"

Princess Celestia issues a tinkling laugh, "Well, I'm glad you appreciate it. Though, I think you should close your mouth before flies settle in it."

I do as suggested then make a deal of bowing. It's many times harder than you can imagine with crutches.

"You don't have to do that," the Princess tells me, "I know of your injury. And I have to admit, getting bowed to everywhere I go can be very upsetting."

I have to smile about that, "I think you're the first royal entity I've met that prefers to go without wholehearted veneration."

"Yes, yes," Celestia says, waving a hoof, "I'm cool like that."

I have to laugh at her attempt to be- I don't know, Ms. Popularity. I didn't know how she would react to that, so I stifled a small chortle. I get a smile in return. It seems the Princess is of good humor.

"I would like to talk to you, Mr. Ambrose," the Princess says, "my protegé has told me quite a lot about you."

I laugh, "Whoa, dude, Mr. Ambrose is my father. The name's Steve."

Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I can't believe I just paraphrased Crush the sea turtle's line! That is so fucking epic; I've been wanting to say that for a while now.

Laughing, Princess Celestia says, "Okay, Steve. Before we talk, I believe we have one more member of this discussion who needs to arrive."

I give the Princess a puzzled look. I assume this third party is gonna be Sparklebutt. Truesbob, I'd rather not have to deal with her. To my surprise, the pony that next comes into the throne room is NOT Twilight and thank the Maker for that! The pony that walks in is- fucking Hell, is she beautiful! Midnight blue, with a mane that flows a lot like Celestia's but in a monochrome cobalt. Her cutie mark is a moon wrapped in shadow. Next to her sister, she is both alluring and imperious.

"Sister," the midnight alicorn says, "is this guest you were speaking about earlier?"

"Yes, Luna," Celestia answers, "I would like you meet Steven Ambrose, the first intelligent human in Equestria in more than eight centuries."

Luna turns to me (Christ save me, she is even more beautiful than I ever imagined!) and gives me a once over.

"Hail, fellow." Luna speaks.

"Well met, Princess." I reply.

Luna turns back to her sister, "This one is versed in the old ways." She then turns back to me, "Praytell, Steven, how didst thou learn Equestrian? 'Tis no record of any human that could thus."

I would speak, but I'm partially stunned. Luna's voice has me enraptured. It's almost as if Zooey Deschanel and Charlotte Church are speaking in lovely hymnals to me.

"Did we- I do something wrong, Tia?"

Celestia, to my astonishment, is wearing a great smile on her muzzle, "No, Lulu, but I think you may have hypnotized poor Steven here."

"I'm okay," I exclaim quickly, "I'm okay."

"Ah, good!" Celestia beams, "Let's take a walk. I have no doubt Luna would like to take in a late afternoon snack?"

"Indeed," Luna confirms, "this is much earlier than I would usually wake for the night court."

"Ladies first," I say and the two alicorn royals proceed to walk ahead out of the throne room.

I follow in their wake; our procession passes through many halls, just as grand and jaw dropping as the rest of the castle. This place is indeed vast, because it takes us a whole forty-five minutes before either princess stops. The room we are now is- well, I'd like to say it's like a dining room, but I'm not sure that's accurate. (If it were a dining room, it'd be one from Warren Buffet's mansion.) The long dining table in front of us is covered in velvet and lace; there are silver and gold candelabras spaced evenly along down the center, and long backed, silk lined chairs are drawn underneath the table. Of course, Princess Twilight is here already. Yay, me…

"Take a seat, Steven," Princess Celestia tells me, "I'll call on the wait staff."

While Luna and I take positions flanking Sparklebutt, Celestia's horn glows a brilliant gold; several ponies, ranging in coat and mane color but all adorning aprons, pour out from a hidden door. They bring forth silver platters which are covered. When the the pair of waiters serving Luna uncover her platter, both our jaws drop. Luna's has fallen due to gluttony, mine in a no small amount of shock.

"Oreo's?" I ask, puzzled.

"What did you say, Steven?" Twilight asks.

"Oreo's," I repeat, "Luna is eating Oreo's?"

Said alicorn is currently muzzle deep in her foodstuffs, yet her eyes swing back my way with curiosity.

"Waf dif youf caffed dese?" she asks, in her mouth still masticating the chocolate-and-cream sensations.

"B-back h-home," I stammer, "We call those Oreo's."

"Argh dey deliffous?" Luna wonders.

I nod, "The most delicious things ever!"

Oh, now what is this? I, too, have some Oreo's. They're not exactly the kind I'm used to, but the could be their twin.

"O-re-ohhhhhhs!" I beam; I've suddenly become all stomach.

"Please," Celestia says, "dig in."

I can't stop myself; I'm stuffing Oreos in my face so fast, I almost look like Luna. She's got so many of the cookies in her mouth, she resembles a chipmunk in late fall. I try not to laugh, but my mouth is also filled to bursting with Oreo's; minute Oreo crumbles fall from my mouth while I suppress a laugh.

"Wow, you really like those, huh, Steve?" Twilight asks; I nod.

"Well, this is off to a better start then I thought," Celestia comments, "color me surprised."

"I can haz milk, plz?"

Every head turns to me when I ask the question. Luna swallows and and seemed mildly confused.

"What did thou- you say?"

I clear my throat (I lapse into meme-speak when my throat is dry. A Freudian slip, I'm sure.) and ask again, "Can I have some milk, please?"

"That's not what you said," Twilight tells me, "you said something else."

Gulping, I respond, "I tend to go into a silly form of speech when I get cotton mouth. Meme-speak or sometimes elite speak. And right now, my throat is drier than El Paso."

"What is El Paso?" Luna asks.

"It's a desert town where I come from," I answer, "it's stuck in a valley at the lower end of a mountain range. Little vegetation grows out that way and the heat spikes really high."

"I'll see if the kitchen has any milk for you, Steven," Celestia says, then she summons a waiter to order it; when she speaks, she's addressing me again.

"Now Steven," she begins, "Twilight informs me that you are not from our world."

"That'd be right, ma'am." I answer, "Humans are the predominant species back on Earth."

The three princesses share a look.

"But," Luna says, "you ARE on Earth."

"Wait, what?" I say.

"This is Earth," Luna continues, "that is what we call our world."

"That's funny," I muse, "that's what we call our planet, too. Humans, I mean."

"How curious," Celestia muses and for a fleeting moment, I'm reminded of Professor Dumbledore, "and are there ponies on your earth?"

I admit, "There are, but nothing like what is here. They're- they're more like service animals. Don't get me wrong; I'm pretty sure they're intelligent creatures, but they don't speak, or read, or sing. They certainly didn't build a global civilization and I can't think of a single pony back home the resembles any of your people."

"Hmm," Celestia muses.

I'm thinking what else to tell the three royals around me when a glass on top of a saucer comes floating in my general direction. Just before it reaches me, it's about eight inches away at that point, the saucer and glass begin to fall.

"Fuck-!"

I'm lucky that I have just enough agility to grab it before it shatters on the marble floor. When I come back up from capturing the glass, I get three very bewildered stares.

"I like milk." I sheepishly say.

Luna blinks, then turns to her sister, "Tia, did you see that?"

"I did," Celestia replies, "he- canceled a unicorns magic."

"He's been doing that since he arrived here," Twilight tells Celestia, "every spell I use on him either fails or causes him immense pain."

"Uh, hello!" I interrupt, "I'm right here!"

"Is this true?" Celestia asks me.

"Yeah, pretty much," I confess, "So far, none of your pony magic works quite right when I'm nearby. Lyra, you know Lyra Heartstrings right?, she tried to magic a notebook into my lap, only for it to end up on a bookshelf."

"Fascinating," Celestia says, "Tell me, Steven, is there magic where you come from?"

I shake my head, "Unless you count those illusionists like David Blane, then no. Certainly not like what you all have."

Luna then peers at her sister and Celestia stares back. In the next moment, both princesses horns light up. I feel my brain getting peeled back, an orange ripe for picking. I sense that every memory I have ever had is getting reviewed. Not just memories, though, my dreams are getting looked over, too. The sensation is overwhelming; it only stops when both sisters horns stop glowing. They look unnerved; Luna is, if possible, looking enraged. It's strange that this magic works on me. Stranger still, I'm not in any pain. <Was is das?>

"Terran," Celstia says, "You are a Terran."

I nod, "Yeah, I guess. Though, I only really hear that term used in sci-fi novels and movies."

"You don't unders-" Celestia starts, but Luna interrupts.

"A Terran? That cannot be. They fled from this world. There hasn't been one in Equestria since after the Poni Empire failed."

"Weren't all Terrans extinct by the time of the Griffon-Minotaur Accord?" Twilight asks.

"They were," Luna answers, "those that remained were either slaughtered by Imperial forces or went into isolation well away from Equestria."

"So there's no way that Steve is one of those Terrans?"

All of this is going over my head and I can see Celestia tensing up considerably.

"Luna, Twilight, please-" Celestia growls, "Steven is certainly not one of the Terrans of old. And he does not appear to be from any of the remaining tribes on the Fringes."

"Excuse me," I declaim, "but this is all a little overwhelming for me. Would anyone care to explain just WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

There's a silence that none of the princesses care to break. I'm angry and a great deal bemused. Ever since ending up here, I've been suffering with unanswered questions. I was hoping not to open up any further inquiries, but this just too much.

"I'm sorry," Celestia says, finally breaking the quiet, "I understand you have been separated from your home, your family, and your culture. There is much that is left unexplained about your arrival here. You also bear a striking resemblance to- somepony I used to know… Needless to say, to answer your most pressing question, you are a Terran, the first to come into Equestria with their mind intact. The Terrans existing now on OUR Earth are- less evolved than yours. They originate from the olden house named Proletariat. I'm sure you recognize that name."

"Actually," I admit, "that names DOES sound kinda familiar…"

"The dreams you've been having," Celestia continues, "are actually memories. Genetic memories from those that fled our world for another similar to it. I believe you are descendant of those houses that left here. And your presence is more than highly fortuitous."

Care to run that one by me again?!

End of Phase One

21 This Should Be Played at High Volume, Preferably in a Residential Area

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Begin, Phase Two: Inquisition and Tenacity

Day Five of Seven, Continued

I stare at Princess Celestia. So do Princesses Twilight and Luna, but theirs is a questioning look; mine is more puzzled and nonplussed.

"Run that by me again? How is my presence so 'fortuitous'?"

Celestia smiles, raising a tea cup to her muzzle before replying, "Some time ago, I had several sections of the palace renovated. These areas were uninhabitable before and I wanted to expand on the guest room situation. While the renovation teams were working, they discovered a room unlike any in the palace. It is located in a part of the palace lodged into the mountain. There are- machines there that nopony can use. They don't appear to be pony made…"

Once again, Celestia's horn lights up and my past plays, a nickelodeon of experience, triumphs, and horrors.

"How- how- how- how did you do that?"

I was pretty sure pony magic would never work on me, but Celestia and Luna just went through my memories; my entire life read and analyzed. I was a little unnerved about that.

"Oh, that," Princess Celestia smirks, "that was a little trick our adopted sister showed me. Cadence's powers have some degree of telepathy to them; she just showed me how to work that out for myself. I showed Luna how do it once I mastered it."

"And why," I growl, "did you just use that on me?"

"Well," Princess Celestia mused, "I wondered whether telepathy would work on you; it seems it does. I also needed to know if you have any experience with the devices we found in the aforementioned chamber."

"Excuse me," Twilight interrupts, "but, was that a spell you used or-?"

Celestia laughs, "No, my faithful student. I'm reasonably assured that most, if not all spells, would not work on our Terran friend."

"Not like Sparklebutt hasn't tired," I grouse.

Twilight gives me a dour expression, to which I respond with a fleck of my tongue.

"As for your question," Celestia redirects, "Twilight has told me about your unique, shall we say, skill set. I believe you may be the only one able to operate the devices in that chamber."

I gave the Sun Princess a hardened look. I had some suspicion that there was a task in the offing but I was uncertain as to what.

"What do you expect me to do? Arthur Fonzerelli the things into operation?"

Princess Celestia gets a puzzled look over her face, I've obviously confused her.

"I'm certain you should be able to get those devices to perform some function."

"So when should I start?" I inquire.

"There's no need to rush," Princess Celestia assures, "you can stay and enjoy your 'Oar-ee-ohs.'"

I roll my eyes at the Princess' attempt to sound out the brand name. I'd rather put off this proposed task as long as I can, because I can't trust what this gear is gonna do. So I tuck into my cookies and milk. I'm mildly pleased that Princess Luna is imitating me. The look of delight on her face when she bites in her first milk-sodden cookie is absolutely priceless!

I- can't remember how many plates of cookies I ate. All I can tell you is that my stomach is both distended and very full. So to is my bladder. That's the last time I drink a gallon of milk in one go. Presently, I'm hobbling along with Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Twilight. We've been marching to this curious chamber for roughly fifty minutes now. I see the look on Sparklebutt's face and can only assume she had no idea the palace ran this far deep. Luna has a similar look, from what I can intone, but she's holding it in better. Maybe she knows that with a structure this large and ornate, it's not altogether possible to learn all it's secrets.

While they walk and I hobble, I do my best to take in the surroundings. Who knew a palace could have so much marble and granite in it? I'm getting nervous about scuffing the floor; the pink marble is so beautiful I dare not scratch it. You know, it does make me wonder: how in the Hell do these ponies not scuff or crack all this marble with their hooves? I just can't wrap my head around it. I really don't know how much further we're going to go. We must be deep in the mountain if there are no more windows here.

"We're getting close," Celestia warns, "it's just a little further…"

I can see some light that isn't issued from torches up ahead. What have we here…?

"This," Celestia says, "is the place."

My jaw, it has dropped. I'm in some sort of antechamber; it's immense in size. Even though the Sun Princess is almost as tall as I am, she is dwarfed by the place. Unlike the rest of the palace, the walls are composed of solid black granite marbled in silver; I look up and the ceiling is hidden by shadows. The floor under us is a grey marble, veined with pink. This room is certainly not made by ponies; the dimensions and design of it are too geometric to be Equestrian.

"The device is over here," guides Celestia, "we have not been able to activate it."

I think I can see why. The device is some sort of computer console, but not one I've ever been in. There's a compression chair in some form of microfleece in the middle of the chamber; several membranous screens enclose the seat. I don't see any system unit or other peripherals nearby. There's a chill in the air, and it isn't my the one going down my spine…

"How now, brown cow," I whisper, "who belongs to you?"

I prop my crutch on the seat, and gingerly lower myself into it. The moment I do, the screens come alive and lights flash on, blinding everyone. Eventually they dim down, allowing me to see some new additions to the console. Something like a stalk has risen from the floor in front of the chair. Attached to the stalk is something like a keyboard. I can't read the text on the keys, but it highly resembles a QWERTY keyboard. Should I be suspicious of this level of convenience? There are now also what look like LED projectors behind the screens; they, too, have emerged from the floor. The chair itself has sprouted a leg rest and some very comfortable arm rests with lots of under-lit buttons. I'm beginning to feel like James T. Kirk here…

"Well, here goes nothin'…"

Leaning forward, I reach out for the keyboard. Oh, this is curious! One of the projectors is bathing me in some sort of laser array. I pans up and down my body than shuts down. Okay, this is uncanny. The keyboard characters, they're- morphing. First, they transform to Cyrillic, then they become kanji. Now they're Loatian characters, if I'm not mistaken. Oh, okay, now we're getting somewhere! They just metamorphosed into Roman letters. Also, one of the screens has turned on; there is text on it that reads, "Identify Yourself."

"Steven Ambrose," I plink into the keyboard.

As soon as I hit the "execute" key, the monitors all around me stir into life. I can see the Princesses' look at me and the console in what I can reasonably assume is looks of bewilderment. Oh, the text on the forward monitor has changed. It reads, "How Do You Feel?"

Plinking, I say, "I don't know; it's too early in the morning for me to tell."

What is this? Is that- a smiley? A big grin smiley. Huh…

"Steven, what does that mean?" Twilight asks.

"Search me," I reply, "I can only assume I typed in something funny."

Well now, this is getting very interesting. The monitors I haven't been paying attention to have now come to life. I see displays of all manner things I can only guess at. Some look like weather reports, others look like news feeds (even though I'm unsure what news they're bringing me; the text in the feeds is in some pigdin language I can't read), two are showing me a diagram of a human body in a reclined position… Oh, now, that is crazy! The reclining person is me!

"Steven," Princess Luna calls out, "what is going on?"

"I dunno," I say, "but I could conquer the whole damn world with this thing…"

"It appears," Celestia muses, "that my assumptions were correct. Only a Terran can operate this device."

"How do you mean?" I ask.

"To be honest," Celestia admits, "I've done some experimenting concerning this device. I used my magic to change some of my little ponies into humans and tasked them with operating this machine. The results have been less than stellar."

"I would think so," I add.

"Why is that?" Celestia asks.

"Biometric scanner," I reply, "See?" I point to a small orb set in a stalk just behind the primary monitor, "That probably scans the operator for proper- well everything. Retina scans, heat gradient, DNA, maybe even fingerprints. I bet your transfigured ponies couldn't match all the criteria this thing looks for."

"I see," Celestia muses.

"Hmm, from what I can tell, this is pretty advanced setup. Even my rig back home isn't this sophisticated. These monitors are holographic in nature… The keyboard is made of some material other than plastic… The seat has something like six axis rotation, making this thing more stable than any task chair I've ever sat in. And let's not talk about the Transformer-style keys."

"So what does it do?" Twilight asks.

"Hell if I know," I reply, "this could very well be the jelly filled center of the Universe for all I- Hey, what is that?"

One of the monitors is now displaying a map. I can see a settlement that vaguely resembles Ponyville and the woods all around it. This map shows two sets of woods, one of which I'm certain is the Everfree Forest. Twinkling in the middle of the Everfree is marker, set over what appears to be a castle or fortress of some sort. More of those strange, geometric characters are flashing on the screen underneath the structure.

"Is there anyway I can get that in English, please?" I ask.

My request is answered at once, as the text transforms into Roman letters and numerals.

"Huh, that's odd." Twilight comments.

"What do-" Celestia asks but I interrupt her musing.

"Bedlam Woods? I thought that was the Everfree? And what, praytell, is this place: House of Mason apothecary outpost?"

"I am-" Celestia starts.

"Sister," Luna adds, "isn't that our former home? The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters?"

"It is," Celestia muses, "interesting…"

"Interesting?" I balk, "What about this is interesting?"

Celestia doesn't direct her next words to me, but to Twilight.

"Twilight, I would like you and our guest, Steven, to look into this."

"Why, Princess?" Twilight inquires.

"Because I believe Steven knows more about this place than even I do."

To quote Sergeant Murtagh: "I'm getting too old for this shit."

22 The Object of My Affection

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Day Six of Seven

Okay, I think a recap is in order here:

In case you didn't know, my name is Steven Ambrose. I'm 35, single, and until at least three months ago, I lived in Laredo, Texas, or as I know it, THE TENTH CIRCLE OF HELL. Traveling by airplane on the eve of my fifteenth high school reunion, I got caught in a terrible accident, wherein the plane I was in MOTHERFUCKING EXPLODED. Somehow, someway, I survived, but not completely intact. I lost my left calf, had several broken ribs, my right arm was broken in three places, and my left arm was both shredded like a son of a bitch and was burned over eighty-five percent of its surface.

I doubt I have lived for very long in that state if it weren't for the residents of the world I now found myself in. A world were anthropomorphic miniature equines rule the planet, wield magic that is true magic, and humans are a myth, spoken of in hushed and frightened whispers. I've been doing my best to adjust to the very sudden change in scenery. Of note, I've had to acclimate to a herbivorous diet as opposed tot he omnivorous one I used to have. It also appears that I am highly resistant to Equestrian magic. Don't know how the Hell that happened…

Nayyaw, I've done what I could to adapt. I have a small flat out on the local apple orchard, I have a job fixing the crude arcade machines in town, and I seem to have a suitor or two. All this would be okay if it weren't for the dreams of someone's else's life I've been having. Oh, and it seems I'm some descendant of the once powerful human civilization that once ruled this planet. Princess Celestia, aided by sister Luna and her star student, Twilight Sparkle (hehehe, Sparklebutt!), were able to explain and/or theorize why I am so "special." Truesbob, I don't feel special. I'm just a dude.

Nayyaw, I'm now tasked with investigating something seen in a super secret chamber setup in the bowels of Canterlot Palace. (Celestia thinks it's some sort of command bunker or maybe an emergency shelter with remote access to a highly sophisticated computer network. She's invited me back to try hack the thing. I look forward to it.) Twilight is coming with me to see this "Castle of the Sisters." If it were up to me, I'd take anyone else besides Twilight, but I'm stuck with her. Princess Luna comes to mind… so does my girl Flutter- Huh. I just called Flutters "my girl." … When I get back to Ponyville, I need to talk to that mare.

Derpy offered to rickshaw me to Flutters cottage, but I refused. I felt it was a better idea to walk there. (The reality is I would LOVE to get a ride out to her place, but I'd like Miss Skittles to see me do this. Might get her off my ass.) It's gonna be a long slog from Sweet Apple Acres to her cottage on the edge of the Everfree, but it will be worth it. Even if it is nothing more than to see the shocked look on Rainbow's face, it'll be worth it.

The sun is high in the sky when I set out. I needed some rest after the train ride from Canterlot but I never got it. Twilight and I got back only this afternoon and my time is waning. I really need to see Fluttershy today or my courage will falter. While it's warm out, at least there's a good breeze. Might just keep the sweat out of my eyes. Why I never appreciated the ability to walk on two feet before now is beyond me. Hobbling along with this crutch is a major pain in the ass.

Oh, for fuck's sake, why didn't I opt for the wheelchair today? That would make this journey so much easier. Might even make me a lot more, I don't know, pitiable. Well, at least this can't get any worse… I can see the cottage now. I remember when I practically lived here. The mornings, even if I was less than pleased with their arrival, always carried that honeysuckle scent I love. Flutters cooking was pretty good, too. Nothing on par with AyJay or The Perplexing Pink Paradox, but good, nonetheless. She was even able to get me a few plates of scrambled eggs and the odd slab of beef. Christ, I've almost forgotten what beef tastes like…

Ah, good! Flutters is feeding her chickens. I can see Elizabeak pecking at the chicken feed on the ground. Ah, I can still smell the honeysuckle in the air! I can't believe how much I missed this place!

"Fluttershy! Hey, Flutters!"

She looks up- Wait, why is she panicking? What th- Oh, fuck! She just retreated within her cottage. What is that about? I hope I don't have to do this through the door. I'm approaching the Menagerie now. Let's see…

*Knock! Knock!*

"Fluttershy?" I coo, "Are you home??"

"Stevie?" I hear muffled by the door, "Is that you?"

"It is," I reply, "can I talk with you?"

The door opens. Fluttershy is in the doorway and she looks apprehensive, maybe even frightened. I wonder…?

"Hello, Fluttershy!" I beam.

"H-hello, Stevie." she whispers.

"Hi!"

D'aww! Flutters is blushing! And look at her scuffing the floor with a hoof! Too adorable!!

"So, about the other day-"

"Stevie," Fluttershy interrupts, "b-before you say anything, I would just l-like to a-a-apologize."

Huhsaywat?

"Apologize, Flutters? For what?"

"W-well, you see," Flutters starts, "I- I shouldn't have been so- f-forward with you. My hormones w-were making me a l-little c-c-crazy. I r-realize now t-that what w-w-we did that d-d-d-day was untoward and even a l-l-little unseemly. I l-like you, Stevie, b-but when- when w-w-we… It was the hormones t-talking, n-not me. I'm sorry i-if I was too- s-s-suggestive."

Oh. My. God. Fluttershy is so adorable when she's embarrassed!

"Oh, Fluttershy," I moan, "you don't have to apologize!"

Sniffling, Flutters says, ""I-I-I don't?"

Shaking my head, I answer, "Listen, what happened- It wouldn't have happened if I didn't want it, too. You were not using me, despite evidence to the contrary."

"B-but-" Flutters says, but I cut her off. "Fluttershy, I've been thinking over the last few days. It was weird at first, thinking of you as something other than an animal. It was even harder to admit that I've grown fond of you, very fond. I'd be lying to myself if I wouldn't want you as a girlfriend-"

"Marefriend, Stevie."

"Of course," I continue, "So, I'd like, if it's okay with you and all, to officially start dating you. I- I would really like to get to know you better, Flutters. And I think- I think I might even love you. But, I'd like to spend more time with you to confirm that hypothesis."

"W-what?" Flutters says through a veil of tears.

I say, "Fluttershy, would you go out with me?"

"Oh, Stevie…!"

I remember Flutters hugging me after I asked her out. From there until where I am now, I have a vague recollection at best. All I know for sure, is that we stumbled our way to her bedroom, where we promptly started rutting like there was no tomorrow. I certain this is real only by the fact that I can feel the silky strands of hair in her cotton-candy mane. The fantabulous writhing sensation around my member thrusting into her tight marehood is an indication that I'm most certainly still alive.

Also, and I'm a little fearful saying this, I just had my first kiss. Mind, it's a little strange getting it from an equine mare instead of a human female, but it was wonderful all the same. Her tongue, it's tastes like blueberries. I can feel her breath on my tongue as she gasps with each thrust. Her coat, it's like velvet underneath my fingers. Honestly, who needs tits when you can get ass like this! By all things bright, I could lay in this state forever!

"Oh, Stevie…!"

Flutters… I can feel her shudder. She's on the verge of another orgasm. Ughuh! I'm not that far off myself.

"Aauuugggghhhhh!" Flutters moans.

"Fluttershy, oh my Goddess, Fluttershy!" I moan.

"Stevie, I'm there- just a little more… Just a little deeper, please, I'm almost there!"

I comply, burying myself to the root. Flutters passage responds in kind.

"Stevie, Stevie, I'm gonna-!"

The moan the escapes Fluttershy is quiet, but I can tell it's actually fairly loud for her. I see tiny spots of blush on her cheeks and her eyes, though unfocused, show she is embarrassed by her display of arousal.

"Sorry." Flutters says.

"Don't worry about it," I assure her, "I've heard worse."

"Oh, Stevie… Don't stop! Don't- stop!"

I'm close, but I don't think I'm close enough to actually seal the deal. That and I don't ever wanna vacate Flutters passage. It's so warm and tight! The way her walls writhe against my member is so delightful…!

"Stevie, Stevie! It's coming! It's coming- I- I can't hold back!"

"Don't- fight it, Flutters. Let- it- go!"

"Stevie! STEVIE!"

As her climax erupts, so do I. I cum deep inside of her, spilling baby batter into her womb like a fire hose at full pressure. It's been a while since I came, so the load I shoot is even thicker than when we last made love. (Well, I think the more accurate term is "fucked" but that's just splitting hairs.) Even as Flutters come down down from her orgasm, I'm still pumping, my stick throbbing violently inside her. As I thrust, I can feel some of my cum seep out of her cunt, spilling on her bed sheets. It's several minutes before the twitching stops; during the interim, I don't stop thrusting into Flutters, causing her to orgasm twice more.

Once I'm drained, we both collapse on the bed, with member still inside her. The warmth of her body is all that's keeping me awake, not that I'm complaining. I kinda like this, being all snugly with the woman/mare I love. It's really quite comforting. If I had any say on this, I would never leave this bed…

"Mmm…" Flutters moan.

"Did we enjoy ourselves?" I ask teasingly.

She nods, "That was even better than the last time."

I smile, "Maybe next time, we can go out for dinner, maybe even take in a show?"

"I'd like that." she responds.

"By the way," I add, "I've been assigned a- mission, by Princess Celestia. Twilight is coming with, although I would like nothing more than to go myself. Would you- like to come with me, too?"

"Where are you going?" Flutters asks.

"Someplace called 'the Castle of the Two Pony Sisters,'" I answer, "ever heard of it?"

I feel Flutters shudder, and it's not from any climax, "Y-you're g-going THERE?"

"It's not that I'd like to. But Celestia thinks I may find some answers as to why I'm here, if I go there. If you don't wanna come, I'd understand-"

"N-no, no, I'll c-come. But y-you have to promise me something Stevie."

"Whatever you want, pretty filly." I beam.

"W-w-will you hold me, if I get scared? I don't really like that p-place. So scary!"

I say, "You couldn't stop me if you tried."

23 Women & Children & Cowards, ATTACK!

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From the daily journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number One

Where do I start? How do I start? I've never been one to talk ab out myself… Well, I guess it all starts after landing in this place, Equestria. Magical, pastel colored, and anthropomorphic ponies saved my life, kept me alive, even accepted me for the shlemiel that I am. Good thing, too, because I was holding the end of my rope. One of these days, either by my own carelessness or by complete apathy to my physical condition, I was gonna buy a farm.
Anyway, the last few months have been good to me. Forget the weight loss; I've dropped from 352 lbs. to a svelte 165 lbs. I've got a girlfriend. Back home I didn't have the looks, the money, or the time for a steady relationship. Now I do. SUCK IT UP YOUR ASS, TODD WHITFIELD! … Sorry, I digress… Back on topic, I've got a mission from the local convening authority here, one Princess Celestia. My LEAST favorite pony *coughcoughSparklebuttcoughcough* and my very special pony, Flutters, are coming with to this Castle of the Sisters.
From what Sparky's told me, this place used to be base-of-operations for Equestria before some bad shit happened. Something about a nightmare and the moon…? In any case, the mountain side chamber in Canterlot Palace says that something leftover from the Terran Empire is there, but we've been tasked with checking it out. Sparkle says it lies deep in the Everfree, which doesn't sound so inviting. Flutters has warned plenty of times about the forest; the place is said to be "unnatural" although from the description my special somepony gave me, it sounds like a regular forest to me. We have the rest of the week to get sorted; I've already informed Twilight of our party's addition and she seems to approve.
It seems Flutters is quite versed in the forest, even if she shivers at the mention of it. Supposedly, there's another that has intimate knowledge of the Everfree. She's known as "Secora" or something like that; she's supposed to to be a zebra. She actually lives deep in the Everfree; it's Sparkle's hope that we'll meet her in our travels and she can help us out. Apparently, the Zebras have a long association with the Terran Empire, but no one knows what it is. I would be hearing it from the horses mouth, so to speak, but I guess I need to wait until we find her. I am not looking forward to this trek; every fiber of my being tells me that we're gonna meet a sticky end out there. … It's just one of the joys of being me.

Fluttershy and I spent the rest of the week just hanging out. We didn't make love again because we agreed that moving to fast was going to destroy the relationship. That, and without a proper left leg, my techniques are rather limited. Either way, we got to know each other fairly well. (Also, when Fluttershy sneezes, she makes the most ADORABLE sound! I had to stop myself from giggling aloud…) More often than not, I went back to my flat in Sweet Apple Acres and she returned to her cottage. One or twice, though, I didn't get back home until well past dawn. (Yes, I had to do The Walk of Shame.)

Once the week was over, Fluttershy, Twilight, and myself are gathered on a road leading into the Everfree. Never in my life have I wanted to turn tail and run like I do now. Albeit, I don't think I'm getting many answers hanging around Ponyville. I may have gotten used to the quiet, pastoral life, but these dreams of mine are starting to drive me apeshit. For once, I'd like it if they would just let me sleep peacefully. The last time one of those dreams come on, I damn near shattered Flutters bed! (Fixing that was no small task, I tell you what.)

"So, are we ready?" Twilight calls.

"If I were any LESS ready, I could march past the Rubicon, battle standard in hand."

Twilight gives me a reproachful look.

"It's from my world; don't knock it."

"I-I-I'm r-ready." squeaks Fluttershy.

Twilight nods, "Okay, let's go."

"Are we there yet?"

"No." Twilight growls.

We've been on the march since early morning and now it's well into the afternoon. No sight of our quarry but what bare rock can tell and no sign of our friend, the zebra, either. I shouldn't be surprised, should I?

"Are we there yet?" I moan.

"NO." Twilight says forcefully.

Should I keep pushing…?

"Are WE there YET?"

"NO!" Twilight spits, "We'll get there WHEN WE GET THERE!"

"Stevie, maybe you shouldn't tease Twilight like that."

"Maybe you're right, Flutters, but that mare needs to chill."

"Still," Flutters retorts, "she is a princess. Even if you don't have greatest friendship, she deserves some respect."

"Okay, Flutters, you win." I say.

"It's about time." Twilight calls back.

Although…

"Twilight, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Steven! What's on your mi-"

"Are we there yet?"

Twilight growls while I stifle a giggle. It's almost worth seeing Flutters and Sparklebutt cross with me; I have a lot of growing up to do. We trudge on (well, the ponies trudge, and I hobble) for another hour or so. It's possible we marched on for longer, the Everfree has a way of distorting things like time. By what little light pierces the canopy of the forest, I can tell daylight is waning. Hey, is that a clearing?

"Finally!" Twilight exclaims.

High and holy FUCK! You have got to be kidding me! This place- it's a dump! It's nothing like the dump Wreck-It Ralph inhabits, no. This place is dilapidated, with large chunks of balustrade, battlements and crenelates lay strewn on the ground. The wind whips past us through the holes in the wall. I smell decay in the air and mildew. What frightens me most, though, is the plank bridge leading to the castle's remains. My acrophobia is acting up on me…

"Come on, it's gonna be dark soon." Twilight calls, "we don't want to be here after dark."

"Fuck and you, Twilight Sparkle," I bark, "Nobody ever told me about a bridge!"

Growling, Twilight turns back from halfway along the bridge, "What are you talking about?"

"HELLO! I am HOBBLED HERE! How am I supposed to cross THAT on one-and-a-half legs?!"

"We don't have time for this-" Twilight moans.

Flutters interjects, "Wait, Twilight, I can carry him."

"Say what, Flutters?" I ask.

"I can carry you across." Flutters repeats, "Of course, you are heavier than a bunny, but I think I can manage."

I ruffle her mane affectionately. Methinks she's the only one who notices my less obvious issues with this.

"FINE," Twilight groans, "but I don't hear any more complaining from you, Mister Man!"

I nod then turn to Fluttershy, "Ready when you- *GULP!* are."

Flutters does what she does best: she floats up to my chest, places her hooves under my armpits, and gently lifts me from the ground. Then we're flying across the titanic gorge that surrounds the castle. During the flight, I have to chant the same mantra over and over to avoid absolute panic: You must now look up. You must not look up. You must not look up.

"What are you doing, Stevie?" Flutters inquires.

"Trying not to freak out," I answer, "I'm really, REALLY, afraid of heights!"

"I know," Flutters says, "I figured that when you started a cold sweat. You didn't tell me you were afraid of heights."

"Sorry, slipped my mind," I say, "I've been acrophobic since I was five. Fell off a high dive platform at a local pool, nearly died. Couldn't get any higher than a step stool allowed afterward."

"So what does the chant do?"

I reply, "Reverse psychology. I keep telling myself not to look up and then I'll look up and I won't find out how high off the ground I am. Doesn't always work."

"It seems to have worked this time, Stevie. We're across."

I can sense that we're descending and my right foot touches solid ground. As soon as Flutters releases her grip on me, I turn about and kiss her. As far as public displays of affection are concerned, it's not the biggest. Doesn't have to be though, because even the simplest act seems to set Flutters off into a sort of romantic fugue. The blush on her face is beyond adorable. Of course, Twilight has to ruin the moment with a throat clearing.

"Are you done?" she rasps.

"Yes," Flutters replies when I release her, "we're done."

"Then let's go," Twilight barks, "I'd rather not be here when Luna's Moon rises."

Good CHRIST, is this place all kinds of spooky! Flutters told me that she and her friends have been renovating this place but this place is still as creepy as fuck. First it was the hidden passageways, then that Hall of Hooves, and the paintings that almost look alive- I gonna have a panic attack if this keeps up. We still haven't found the source of that ping. The Terran Imperial map showed it to be here, but we haven't seen hide nor hair of it. Wild goose chase anyone?

"Twilight, we've been walking for hours in here. Don't you think we should go home?" worries Fluttershy.

"While I'd like to, Fluttershy, Princess Celestia is counting on me to find this place." Twilight responds.

"Not only you," I add, "even if you DID find it, I don't think you could activate or even understand whatever is supposedly buried here."

Twilight moans, and not for the first time. Our search of some secret human chamber has been fruitless thus far.

"Even so," Twilight says forcefully, "we are on task. We should give it our entire effort."

"The only thing I'd like to do," I groan, "is find a seat. Oh, look over here!"

A decidedly unpony chair is nestled along a far wall in the antechamber we've been exploring. It's the only chair of it's kind in the whole caste. It's rather simple, really, nothing more than a stool with a back to it. I gingerly place myself atop it. Despite it's utilitarian design, it's actually really comfortable.

"Ah, relief!" I moan.

"We have been on our hooves all day, Twilight," Flutters concedes, "maybe a rest would help?"

Twilight relents, "You're right, Fluttershy. Even us alicorns get tired sometimes."

"Hear hear!" I exclaim, "let's all sit back, relax, and rest a spell."

I lean back on the stool I'm on. Whoa, wait- What in the Hell?! Where'd the wall go-?!

"OOMPH!"

"Oh no!" Flutters cries, "Stevie, are you okay?"

"I reckon," I pronounce as Flutters lifts me off the floor, "the only thing really hurt is my pride. What the fuck was that?"

"Steven," Twilight whispers, "you need to see this."

I'm looking- at a passage. A secret passage, obviously missed by the ponies during their renovation of this place. Halfway down the corridor, which is taller than even the biggest pony, is a set of stairs, human sized stairs. For whatever reason, Robert Frost comes to mind.

"I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

"Say what again?" Twilight questions.

"Old poem," is my reply, "even older than me. Come on, this secret ain't gonna explore itself!"

We march down this newly unearthed corridor, knowing little of what to expect. My pony companions have a slip of trouble navigating the stairs. Fluttershy decides to float down them, but Twilight isn't an experienced flyer, so she has to stumble down the staircase. I have my own difficulties: with half a leg missing, my descent is much more hazardous. It's a good thing Flutters is here to steady me when I stumble; I doubt I have the necessary agility to stop myself from falling let alone breaking my neck. We seem to be going very far underground; the air is getting a definite chill to it. This path was not made by ponies, I can tell. the walls are smooth and near geometrically perfect. The architect in me is astounded.

At last, the bottom of the stairs! By the hands of the nailed up Christ…! The mountainside chamber in Canterlot is TINY compared to this place. The air is rank and stale; the room is so large, I can't even see the far end of it. Same goes for the ceiling and at least the eastern wall. The room makes me think of Grand Central Station in New York, but nowhere near as grand. There's a hum in the air, a buzzing sound that vibrates in my bones. Along the only visible wall, I see what appears to be workstations spaced at intervals. Whatever was going on here must have been important AND secretive. Twilight lights up her horn in an effort to cut back the gloom; it's only partially effective.

"Steven," Twilight calls, pointing a hoof at vaguely familiar seat, "isn't this a seat similar to the one in Canterlot?"

I stride over to the chair in question, "It does. There's a thick layer of dust, though. Something or someone used this place regularly."

"Can you activate it?" Twilight says.

"Let's see." I reply.

I lower myself in the chair and- nothing. Not a thing happens.

"Well that was exciting!" I declaim, sarcastically.

"I don't understand," Twilight muses, "the last time you did that, everything came on at once. Could it be broken?"

I shake my head, "I get the feeling this isn't the seat of power in this room. Let's go further; I gotta good feeling about this."

"I wish I could say the same." Fluttershy mumbles.

We continue onward. This place is definitely different from the Canterlot site. For one, there are more workstations here, not just along the walls, but also spaced amongst the floor. Secondly, there are etched signs on the floor, indicating direction as well as what I assume are departments. The text in these inscriptions is similar to what I saw in the Canterlot chamber.

"Look!" Twilight exclaims.

Well now, what is this? There's something like a throne here. The light from Twilight's horn glints on gold and silver, dully reflecting off other materials as well, like velvet and satin. On the back of the throne is a expertly, hand sown sigil: a phoenix wrapped around a globe, with two four-point stars twinkling adjacent. I'm getting a sense of déjà vu; I could swear I've seen that emblem before…

"What do you make of it, Steve?" Twilight inquires.

"Methinks it's a command seat," I respond, "or maybe a regent's throne?"

"I don't think we should be here," Fluttershy announces, "can we go now?"

"Not yet, Flutters," I say, "I'm gonna try something."

"What are you doing?" Twilight asks.

"Gonna take a seat," I tell her Sparkleyness, "I'm next door to dead."

Ah, more stairs! At least these aren't as big as the ones coming down. Now I just gotta turn around… There, that's it. Now let's plant my fat, pimply, white ass on this thing… Oh, yeah, that's the ticket! Now this place is alive. Any minute now I'm go- HHHHRRRRRKKKKKKK!

"Stevie? STEVIE?!"

Oh, my fucking grandmother! Oh, why in the Hell is my leg hurting so much? And what the Hell is that noise?! Can a guy get some peace around here or what?

"Stevie! Stevie, wake up! Stevie, you have to wake up! Please, Stevie, don't die on me! I love you!"

"*GASP!* *COUGH! COUGH!* Flutters?! *COUGH!* What happened!" I'm sputtering. What the Hell happened to me?!

Twilight answers, "When you set down on the throne, this whole place came to life. Then this beam of light came down… You were thrashing- a-and s-s-creaming, screaming. We- We thought, you were going to die!"

"Ain't dead yet, huh?" I gasp, because Fluttershy is wrapped very tightly about my neck, "I'm like Jason Vorhees that way."

"[Indeed, thou art.]" says a disembodied voice.

"Was is-?"

"Steven, what was that?" Twilight asks, a tremor in her voice.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I reply, "Flutters, ease up, you're starting to choke me…"

"[It is well that one of ours has returned. We did not expect anyone from the other houses to make it back here.]"

"Oy!" I bellow, "Where you?! Who are you, eh?! Speak English!"

A noise, a whir, and then, "I apologize, Child of Terra, I had assumed that you were taught in our tongue. Alas, no, you have it not, save for in its most bastardized form."

"I still still don't know who, what, or where you are!" I call out.

The ghostly image of a beautiful but austere woman emerges from the floor. She wears what I can only describe as a catsuit; she is petite, boasting an ample bosom, with auburn hair streaked with golden threads. I- I think I dreamed about her before…

"I shall answer your inquiries, for that is my role.

I am, or was once, called Valeria. Now, I am The Hand That Mourns. My body died several millennium before you were born. As to what I am, I am now memory made light, an ancillary construct, meant to instruct any of our descendants should they make their way back here. As to where, I am now nowhere; my body is now dust, but my code remains here, as it did when Equestrian and Terran once did war ended. While I lived, I was of the House of Anthro, the home of historians and record keepers. It was our solemn duty to record the daily activities of the Terran Empire and it's citizens. Those records were kept elsewhere until my nation fell. After the exodus to the second Earth, our Final Hope, I, as Valeria, remained behind to archive all that knowledge. Now that one of us has been beckoned back home, it is my duty to inform them the history they may have lost."

"It's too bad you couldn't the same for my leg…" I growl.

"Oh, that?" Hand says, "child's play. I am surprised you haven't noticed. Genetic replication and nano-mechanical reconstruction have repaired your damaged limb. Look!"

Oh, damn, she's right! My left foot, it's back!

"I CAN WEAR BOOTS AGAIN! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

I whoop it up for a bit, a scared Fluttershy still hanging on my neck. Twilight, she looks aghast. I don;t think she's taken all this information in stride. Hand, either way, is smiling, and I can see in her holographic eyes both pride and curiosity. I guess she hasn't sized up who I am yet.

"Inquiry," Hand says when I finally collapse from too much elation, "are these Equines your pets? Slaves?"

"Wait, what?!" Twilight screams.

"Hold on," I admonish at Twilight, "I don't think Ms. Hand here has had a lot of relative information about what's been happening for- How long have you been waiting for me again?"

Hand replies, "Twenty four thousand, nine hundred and seventy-six years, three months, ten days, four hours, fifty-one minutes, and seventy-three seconds. To be precise."

"W-w-w-w-? Did- Did- Did you s- 25,000 years?!"

Hand nods, "It has been a long wait. Now, if you would mind-?"

I see she's pointing to my pony friends, "Well, they aren't my masters, and they sure as hell ain't slaves. These ponies are my friends." For added effect, I squeeze tightly onto Fluttershy.

"I see," Hand replies, "Most interesting."

"Why so?" Twilight demands.

"Well, you see, Your Majesty, if your 'friend' knew of what transpired here twenty-five millennium ago, I do not believe you and he would remain 'friends.'"

"That's rather ominous," I add, "just what are you trying to tell me, Ms. Hand?"

Hand smiles, a gentle, knowledgeable thing, and says, "First, would you tell me what you are called, Child?"

I swallow some spit, hoping that I'm not making it appear that I'm nervous and answer, "Steven Ambrose."

Hand's holographic head tilts, "Hmm, how interesting. You do look like him. Most peculiar…"

"More cryptic talk," I moan, "listen, I know you got some agenda you gotta push, and I'm still fresh off the boat, so how 'bout we get some things straightened out here. Where are we?"

Hand replies, "We are currently in the Central Citadel of the Terran Empire; specifically, in the uppermost throne room of the Imperial Matron. We built it in the place where first contact between the Equestrians and the Terran race took place, dead center in the Bedlam Woods."

"Bedlam Woods? Not Everfree?" Twilight inquires, "So this isn't a war room?"

"Oh, yes, it is" Hand answers, "at least, it was when the war started. Poor Ambrose, he would curse the fools who turned this majestic residence into a military complex. Alas, he was assassinated long before those changes, and the war in general, took place."

"Okay," I muse, "who was Ambrose, besides a name?"

"Ambrose was a member of House Intelligentsia, the home of thinkers, artisans, musicians and artists, but he transferred into House Praetorian, wherein dwell the defenders of the Empire. It was he who made First Contact. It was his dream for Equestrians and Terrans to live in harmony."

"But the war-?" I ask, "He was assassinated before the war, Ambrose? What happened to his dream?"

Hand closes her eyes, and hisses, "House Proletariat, a snake pit of politicians and lawyers. They saw the Equestrians as non-entities, until they proved with an alacorn foal that they were not to be trifled with. Then they sought the extermination of the whole race, down to the last mare, stallion, and foal."

"How awful," whispers Fluttershy, "Why?"

I concur, "Good questions Ms. Hand, why?"

"Because, Steven, descendant of Ambrose, House Proletariat is evil."

Fuck me…

24 For Pony!

View Online

Underneath the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters

"Okay, just for clarification, just HOW evil is this 'House Proletariat?'"

It's the question I've had lingering on my tongue since Hand That Mourns proclamation of this most vile house, but it's Twilight who asks it. Fuck-me-Freddy-sideways…

"A just question, Your Highness," Hand says, a grim line crossing her holographic visage, "House Proletariat was instrumental in starting the war between the Terran Empire and the then nascent Equestrian civilization."

A screen pops up showing all three of us a scene of what appears to be a political rally. In it, several strings of ponies are gathered in front of a podium. On the dais is a unicorn I've seen before but can only vaguely recall. The mare is talking and you can see by the way the manes of her followers sway that the day was windy. The mare continues speaking, oft times accompanied by a stomping hooves of her audience. And then, absolute chaos; the scene blinks out for several moments. When it resolves, the dais is rubble and the mare and her entourage are laying on their sides, blooding pouring from their mouths. I don't need a veterinarian degree to know those ponies are dead. From out of the carnage and debris comes a two young filly alicorns, the brighter one's sun cutie mark the only light in all the smoke. The darker one, still without branding, wanders in the brighter ones wake; tears stream unchecked from her large eyes.

"Oh my," gasps Flutters, "is that-?"

"Princess Celestia-? Princess Luna-?" Twilight whispers.

I can hardly believe it myself. I've seen these two just a week ago and can I barely believe these two are the regents I've come to know somewhat.

"Hand," I inquire, "when was this?"

"Two hundred years after first contact, roughly ten years after Ambrose was assassinated."

"Okay, that's the time frame," I start, "but how do you know-?"

"The plans for the bombing," Hand answers, "were found in the Chancellor of the State's office. He was impeached, censured, then ousted from office, but the damage was done. A month after King Eos and Queen Astreaus were killed, the Equestrians sent a declaration of war. House Proletariat answered back within twelve hours, without the consent of the Matron."

"Toy soldiers off to war, indeed." I muse.

"If only," Hand adds, "we discovered very early on that our weapons and technology were of no use against the ponies magic. Our most sophisticated technology failed miserably in the wake of their combined unicorn assault… Directed energy plasma rifles, fusion canons, nanometer mechanical device super bombs, all of it failed. Even with our Dyson's Sphere's churning out ordinance, armor, and vehicles twenty-four hours a day non-stop, we could not counter the ponies grasp of magic."

"Wait," I cut in, "Do you mean to tell me that, with that level of technological sophistication, you guys were getting your asses handed to you by a bunch of miniature equines?! What the fuck?!?!"

"It's not as simple as that, Child of Ambrose," Hand retorts, "the energies of their magic negate our systems. The best we could devise to counter their powers were neuropathy weapons. They affect the neurology of a target, a sort of neurological assault, often resulting in death. But they are close range weapons. As Her Highness can attest, magic has no range."

Twilight nods.

"Now that we have that sorted," Hand announces, "It is high time that we-"

OW! HIGH AND HOLY FUCK! WHAT IS THAT?! A SIREN?! WHERE-?

"Ow! Miss Hand, what's going on?!" Twilight yells.

The klaxon is loud enough to wake the dead and then some! Flutters has resuming clinging to my neck, even tighter than she did before. She's kinda making it hard to breathe…

"Alert! Alert! A hostile force has amassed in the vicinity. One moment, I am locking onto the location now…" Hand says.

"Hand," I demand, "what's happening?"

"One moment, please." Hand patiently says, "according to what instruments I can currently access, there is a mob of- No, wait- that can't be right-"

"Hand!" Twilight and I bellow simultaneously.

"There- There is a mob of humans thronging the local village-"

"'Local village?'" Repeats Fluttershy, "Does she mean Ponyville?!"

"Dunno," I reply, "Hand, where is this village? Can you give us a map?"

"I can," Hand says and a map of the area emerges on one of the newly activated holoscreens. I can see where we are, I can see the woods surrounding, and then-

"No! Ponyville-!"

"I am detecting some chemical reactions… Odd, they appear to be propellants for projectile throwers and explosives… How primitive! There are quite a few… According to my scopes, the local buildings do not have the structural integrity to handle these reactions for very long."

"We need to get out there, fast!" I order.

Twilight nods, "Immediately!" and with that, she and Fluttershy disappear. I, on the other hand, am visiting by the worse case of nausea I've ever had. Was that the effect of her magic or-?

"As I surmised, Child of Ambrose, your biology does not handle pony magic too well."

"No shit, Sherlock! Do you wanna keep digging?!"

"There is no need for obscenities," Hand pronounces, "but I have some things for you that may be of some help. If you would look upon the throne again."

The throne? Why would- Okay, that is crazy. The same beam of light that overwhelmed me when I first took a seat on the thing is now wrapped around it again. Wait, what is-? Huh, is that a hat? No, it kinda looks like a headband or-

"A neural interface," Hand explains, "it will allow me to communicate with you at range without the need to return here. Until I can assess your cognitive ability further, I shall serve as your ancilla."

I take the interface in my hands.

"So I just put this on my head?"

"More like wrap about the back of your skull and over your ears." Hand replies.

Here goes nothing…

Whoa! What just happened?

"I had you transported to outside of High Command. I felt that you would like to leave as soon as possible to catch up with your companions."

"Hand? Is that you?" I ask.

"It is."

Now I'm confused, "Where are you?"

"Were you not paying attention? I am speaking to you via your neural interface. We shall communicate this way from now on."

"Oh, cool," I say, "Wait, you can teleport me places?"

Hand answers, "In a way. Our Empire had the means to convert matter into tight streams of energy and fling that energy anywhere within range to instantaneously recombine into matter again. I have not used the system in some time, so I have some adjustments to make…"

"Hail, Sir Steven!" a regal voice calls out.

"Princess Luna?" I callback.

The cobalt princess of the night lands in front of me, flanks heaving with exertion. It looks like she flew all the way here from Canterlot. Had she and her sister already heard of the riot going on in Ponyville?

"Wherever hast thou been?" Luna asks.

"I was in there," I say, pointing to the ruined castle, "on your sisters orders. What are you doing here?"

"Surely thou has heard," Luna replies, "of the commotion happening in yonder villa? Mine sister hath sent me to help to end the crisis."

"Good thinking," I say, "by the way, nice Middle English."

"Huh?" Luna inquires, "Oh, my stars- I'm sorry. I keep slipping into Olde Equestrian… It's most prevalent when I'm stressed or mad."

"Well, from what the girls have told me, you at least toned down The Voice."

"Yes, I have been told the Canterlot Voice is- more than a little alarming."

I nod, "Let's get going. Ponyville may be burning by now…"

"I can teleport us-" Luna starts but I interject, "Hello, Luna, human with aversion to magic here? Your spell will fail on me. Besides, I gotta ride."

"But how?" Luna asks.

"Let me show you," I say, "Hand?"

"Affirmative," my ghostly hostess confirms, "I have a lock on the location. Standby."

This is gonna get nuts…

High and holy FUCK, that is insane! A burst of white then BOOM!, right on target! And not a moment too soon, I see. The whole town has become a war zone. I see buildings on fire, the smell of rapid oxidation tickling my nose. There is heat from the flames wafting in on the wind and in the distance, the screams of frightened ponies. Also, I can hear hoofbeats at a trot. Ah, I have been joined.

"Stevie!" Fluttershy calls out, wrapping me in a delicate hug, "You made it! Twilight wasn't sure her teleportation spell would work on you. How did you make it here?"

"I can explain later, Flutters," I tell her, watching as my other friends from Ponyville flank me, "but first, I need a situation report."

Applejack is the first to speak, "Well, we don't know when they arrived. They sure as shootin' didn't come with an invitation."

"They?" I ask, "What exactly are 'they'?"

"Well," Applejack says with a furtive look, "They kinda look like you, sugarcube."

"Like me?"

"Uh-huh!" Pinkie Pie confirms, "They walk on their hind legs, and they have no coat whatsoever, and they seem to like clothes like you do. Hey! Do you think they like cupcakes?"

"Maybe they do," I answer, "we'll worry about that later. Anybody seen Luna yet?"

"Princess Luna?" Rainbow Dash says, "When did you see her?"

"When I came out of the Royal Sister's Castle." I answer, "She was just flying in."

"We haven't seen her yet," Twilight adds, "was she on her way?"

"Yeah, she was-" I answer but I get cut off by Rarity screaming.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Hand wasn't kidding. There be humans here. They- They look off, kinda like the sky marshal I shot a while back… There eyes are all kinds of hazy; they reek of bee-oh in the worst way. There's also something tattooed to their necks… I see a feather and a- coin? Haven't I seen something like that before? Fuck it, I'll get to those answers later. First, I gotta keep this guy away from my friends!

"Girls, get behind me." I command and my pony friends obey at once, "Spike, I need you lay down some fire for me. Don't burn 'em, but keep 'em back. Applejack, I need you to buck anyone that passes Spike's firewall. Rainbow Dash, we need a shower or two to douse the house fires; make it happen! Fluttershy, you, Pinkie, and Rarity help evacuate anypony that hasn't gotten indoors yet. Twilight-"

"I know what I can do," grouses Sparklebutt; her horn lights up and a beam of magic strikes a nearby human. The human in question, a male with a bulging stomach hold in by a cheap business suit, topples over. His eyes roll back until only the whites are visible. The others human, in response, roar with fury.

"Twilight, whatever you do, DO NOT DO THAT AGAIN." I roar.

"But that was a stunning spell…" Twilight mumbles.

"MAGIC DOESN'T WORK WELL ON HUMANS, REMEMBER?!" I bellow.

"Then, praytell, Sir Steven, what can Twilight and I do?"

"Luna!" Twilight calls.

Well, shit, now I got two alicorns here…

"Good question," I muse, "I need a distraction. Something bright and loud. Do you two have any spells like that?"

Both alicorns nod.

"Good," I say, "just don't aim it at them! Make it visible to the horde, up in the air. Anything to distract them."

"What are you gonna do, Sir Steven?" Luna asks.

"I dunno, something." I reply.

"I may be able to help with that," Hand adds, "I believe I can activate weapons capability through your N.I., Child of Ambrose. Please standby…"

"Whatever you're doing, Hand, make it quick."

"There!" Hand exclaims, "I have enabled neuropathy weapons! Engage them with a flick of your wrist."

"How do I-" I start before I catch sight of a bright something emanating from my hand.

Wow. This is COOL! It's like the plasma swords from Halo, only more epic! The whole blade shimmers in a translucent white and courses with silver veins. The hair on my arm is standing on end; it's like I got a lightning bolt for a sword. I wonder what else I can do with this…?

"Okay, let's go to town. Everypony, you got your orders, do it to it!"

At once, RD is in the air, bundling clouds that darken at her hooves. Spike unleashes a torrent of red-orange fire that produces a wall in front of the advancing human mob. They shirk back, trying to avoid the heat. Applejack finds one human, a fellow with a stained but still brilliantly loud Hawaiian style shirt on, and proceeds to buck him over a nearby building. Pinkie and Rarity dash from the scene, calling out for stragglers to run with them, Rarity using her magic to clear debris from the road; Fluttershy goes airborne and repeats the call from above. Twilight and Luna get into stances, ready to set off fireworks above the heads of the crowd.

"All we need now is a little fight music."

"I can handle that," Hand says, "I have access to all your lamentably archaic devices and can reproduce your music selection."

"Excellent, Hand, just shuffle something made of awesome."

"I have just the thing." Hand says and then auditory epicness fills the air.

The grin on my face could make even the most courageous person or pony wet their pants. Just in the nick of time, too, as a fiend with a hatchet (where in the hell did a lady like her get a hatchet?!) sweeps past the firewall. She gurgles an incomprehensible war cry and staggers towards me. I let her know my opinion of her tactics with a swish of my sword. She goes down when the blade passes through her head, certain death etched in her features.

"INCOMING!" Twilight yells.

I just happen to catch another human, a girl with a scythe (where are they getting these weapons, damn it?!) and cut her down. Two gentlemen in suits, haggard looking but certainly certainly none the worse for wear, rush me. The one coming on my right side I take down with a crotch-to-crown swipe; the other though, slams into something solid just before smacking into me. I look left, and see a solid wall of light dangling on my left arm. (I guess I need to thank my Tinkerbell later for that one.) I slam the shield into the man's jutting leg, watching twitch and spasm horribly before I dispatch him with a thrust to his chest.

More humans are now pouring through the firewall. I don't think Applejack could buck them all, but that's fine. <Jwaelino> fine, in fact! Things are just now got getting fun!

It didn't take that long to sort out the riot. The humans went down pretty easily with those neuropathy weapons Hand That Mourns set me up with. I count, in total, around thirty or so humans down. The damage to town is pretty minimal; things could have gone a whole lot worse. No pony was injured, just a lot of scared mares and stallions.

"Well, that was gruesome." I comment. My arms, my legs, every bone in my body is shaking from a combination of adrenaline overload and guilt. It was actually kinda fun fighting the humans, a little too fun. Something must be wrong with me if I find pleasure in killing my fellow homo sapiens. I can't deal with this right now; I got other things to think about.

"That it was," Luna adds, "why did they attack Ponyville?"

"Don't know; don't want to know." I say.

"There has to be a reason," Twilight muses, "they just didn't invade Ponyville on a whim."

"Hey guys!" Rainbow Dash calls, "Take a look at this!"

Twilight, Luna, and myself run to a patch of Ponyville cobblestone that was spared a great degree of the overall chaos that just happened. Lying prone on the road is the guy with the Hawaiian shirt. He looks quite dead to me… Oh, wait, I see his chest rising and falling. I guess he's still breathing.

"We gotta a live 'un." Ayjay tells me, "An' he's was alookin' for you, Steve."

"For me?" I question, "What for?"

"Because," rasps Hawaiian shirt guy, "we have something to impart to thee."

Holy-!

"Dude! Small, fat, bald headed technologist be insane."

"Take heed, Child of Ambrose," says Hawaiian Shirt Guy, "you are making allegiances with the wrong people. The ponies will destroy you. The Bitch from House Anthro has failed to preserve our culture and if she hasn't already, she will fail you, too. Do not betray your heritage. We are Legion, we are Power, We are House Proletariat."

Hawaiian Shirt Guy gives a gasp, his final, and his eyes go fixed. Rest in peace… douche bag.

"Anybody got a clue what that means?" I ask.

The ponies, including Luna, shake their heads. It's Hand that responds to my inquiry.

"Our enemies are known to us, Child of Ambrose. Do you see the mark on this one's neck?"

Why did she say mark? Isn't it a tattoo-? Uh, nope, it's not. That, beloved, is a series of gouges in human flesh. GROSS!

"Holy fuck… Hand, that feather and coin, what does it mean?"

"That is the sigil of House Proletariat," Hand answers, "And it is not a feather, it 'tis a quill."

Confused, I ask, "A quill?"

"Aye, verily," Hand replies, "the Proletariat were lawmakers and judicial advocates. They were also known for their soaring ambition and love of power. It is now, more than ever, that I must help you understand about the inner workings of the Empire and why the things that have come to pass are happening."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, Hand."

25 A Murder of Crows

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From the daily journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Eight

This has been one exciting day! Let's see, where do I begin with this one…? Okay, I started the day with as long trek through a dark forest filled with untamed horrors. I then spelunked through an ancient castle and accidentally discovered a human command center. The ghost of a dead woman told me a little about the dreams I've been having. Oh, and when I got back to Ponyville, I found it was hosting a poorly planned Thriller flash mob. If Micheal Jackson were alive, he'd sue somebody.
Now for the crazy part. I KNOW THESE PEOPLE. The ones that staged the flash mob or whatever the Hell it was, they came from my plane! Twilight is astounded that any of them are even here. I'm betting if a concentrated search of the Everfree were conducted, we'd find the remains of the plane and maybe the rest of the passengers and crew. Or what's left of the crew; my Rage+Quit assault took down a few of them. Better ask Hand That Mourns if she has the tech to pull that off.
I still don't know where they got those markings on their necks. Hand tells me that they stand for House Proletariat. Near as I can tell, they're like House Republicans. That isn't really a good comparison, though. GOP House members look like twaddling infants next to House Proletariats. Those folks sporting quills-and-coins instigate war, plague, and famine like it's a day at the beach. To think there is a body out there more amoral than the Koch Brothers… I'm still wrapping my head around it.
Now that Hand is becoming a more permanent fixture in my life, thanks to this neural interface I'm wearing, I'm starting to see even more vivid glimpses into Terran Empire society. SOme of the things I saw while dreaming last night are really putting things in perspective for me. Although, there are some drawbacks to that. Even as I write this, Hand is editorializing. (From Hand That Mourns: I am not. I am simply trying to interpret a very imprecise and rather archaic culture. It is very frustrating sometimes.) LIKE I WAS SAYING, being this close to an antediluvian artificial intelligence has it's issues. I'm learning to cope with them (Not very well, I must add. (Shut up, Hand!)) and there's still some room for improvement. (You don't say?)
Anyway, clean up in Ponyville is taking some time. The local arm of the Royal Engineering Bureau is here fixing up homes and repaving damaged streets. As per my request, all the bodies of the humans I felled are getting placed in cold storage for the time being. I'd like Hand and Twilight to give 'em a once over. Something about their behavior has my flummoxed and I don't like being flummoxed. Many of the tools they carried are being held as evidence. I say "most" because some of the party members has pistols on 'em. I've not got three additional mags of nine mike-mike to add to my diminished stockpile. I still have to ask Twilight to relinquish the Siggie, but that's the least of my worries now.
That award goes to Flutters, my new "marefriend." She- she didn't take my bring-your-daughter-to-the-slaughter of the advancing human horde all to well. I can see why; she is such a darling that I bet even when some pony accidentally knocks down a butterfly, she goes from sweet to full blown nuclear meltdown! With thirty-one kills now attributed to me, I'm also beginning to attract some unwanted attention from the Royal Sisters. Luna's been town since the riot and she's never taken her eyes of me. Mind you, I don't object to it much; she's so damn pretty! It's still a touch unnerving to see her eyes locked onto to me like I'm some sort of predator. (Hand again: That last statement could not be any closer to the truth. Humans are THE APEX PREDATOR. It's wonder these ponies don't see it. (Hand, you're editorializing again.)) … It's time to see how The Universe will conspire against me today.

"Thirty." Twilight muttered, as the last of the humans was laid to rest in a cold storage unit within Ponyville Hospital's morgue.

It goes without saying that in a sugar bowl like Equestria, a morgue is a quite unnecessary facility to have. In this case, though, it does it's job and then some. Even with all the bays filled, there was still plenty of empty drawers in the small morgue. I should ask why, but I'm not gonna bother. Might break up the mystique of this place or something. Having the ruins of a once proud human civilization standing side-by-side an anthropomorphic equine one is a enough disillusion for one lifetime.

"A nice round number," I add, "and all seem to come from my plane. It seems I wasn't the only survivor."

"Maybe," replies Applejack, "but you wasn't the one who went plumb loco upon landin'."

"Too true," I say, "but these marks… Quill and coin. Hand That Mourns tells me that that sigil belongs to House Proletariat."

"Just what they hay does that mean?" the orchard owner asks, "And what is the hand the mourns?"

"Hand is- a representative of the Terran Empire." I answer, "They used to rule this planet until something happened between them and the early Equestrians."

"And this 'House Proletariat'?" Applejack inquires.

"Politicians," I reply, "of the Terran Empire. Like your people's nobles, but worse by several orders of magnitude. The make the politics of my home look petty by comparison."

"So why did they trash Ponyville?" ArDee asks, "I mean, what was the point?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I reply, "It's almost they were trying to get my attention."

"A really foul way of getting your attention," Twilight grouses, "do all humans act this illogically?"

I nod, "Yeah, pretty much. We tend to be about sixty percent emotion, thirty percent instinct, and ten percent reason."

"That doesn't sound like a good combination," Rarity laments, "ugh, what on EARTH would anypony think this is a good fashion choice."

I giggle little, as Rares is fooling around with the Hawaiian Shirt Guy's choice of fashion, "That's how Hawaiian shirts are: loud and tacky."

"Please tell me that not all humans dress like this?" Rares asks.

"Nope," I answer, "just the color blind ones."

"I am quietly surprised that these ponies can even SEE color." Hand That Mourns comments.

"No one asked you," I growl, "but now that you're here Hand, I have to ask, why didn't the Terran Empire revert to bullets and chemical bombs when the war broke out?"

"Well, uh," Hand stammers and for once I'm glad to hear the uncertainty in her voice, "We- we destroyed all our stock millennia prior. Also, the profession of gunsmithing was phased out in favor of plasma weapons technologist. There was also a growing demand for non-lethal personal defense items. A slug thrower was just too loud and too simplistic to use for daily interdiction."

"That figures," I comment, "of course, if I had asked for Twilight to hand me the Siggie, this entire affair would have gotten a whole lot-"

"Messier?" Hand interjects.

"-bloodier," I finish, "and louder."

"I still don't see why Humans need such- weapons." Rarity adds.

"I'll tell you what," I say, "your world is a paradise compared to where I come from. The weather is wild, the animals are even wilder, and humans may be at the top of the food chain, but that doesn't mean the animal kingdom is pleased with us being there. I can name at least ten animals that would GLADLY knock us off our pedestal given half a chance. That goes for our fellow humans, too. And let's not even get started on the way the planet behaves…"

"What do you mean?" Pinkie asks.

"Well…" I begin, "forget that we have tornadoes, typhoons, hurricanes, and forest fires; those things tend to be Acts of God. The planet itself is unstable; I've never heard of a single earthquake while living here, but back home, I've heard of at least sixteen significant quakes and more than three devastating tsunamis. Hundreds of lives lost, although if you ask me, living that deep in a quake zone is going to mark you as a casualty."

"Wow," Twilight muses, "your world sounds-"

"Scaaaaarrrryyyyyy!" Pinkie finishes.

"You have no idea." I say, "Hey, Hand, how long is it going to be before your autopsy gear is set up?"

Hand answers, "At least three hours. I have to find the equipment first in storage. It is spread out all over the Empire's former domain. Acquiring it is much more- difficult than I imagined."

"A question, Sir Steven."

Luna is the one interrogating me now.

"An answer, if I can provide one." I say.

"Was it necessary to-" Luna swallows, and I think I know why, "kill, your fellow creatures?"

"Necessary, no," I answer, "fun, yea, verily! That, and they presented a sizable amount of nuisance given their small numbers. Would YOU want a group like this tear-assing around Canterlot?"

Luna shakes her head, "Neigh, I would not."

"Ask and answered, then." I reply.

"Another question, praytell." Luna says.

I roll my hand, begging her to continue,

"What is this 'Siggie' th- you have mentioned?"

It's explained to the Night Princess the weapon that the sky marshall was wielding when he burst into Fluttershy's cottage and how I used against him. Twilight's report is accurate up to a point; she makes the assurance that the weapon is hidden away has not been used since. I beg to differ, but I'm not stupid enough to voice my dissension. Judging by Luna's expression as the explanation goes on, she is shocked that such a weapon can even exist.

"Twilight, do you still have this 'pistol' in your domicile?" The Night Princess asks.

"Yes I do," Twilight answers, "hidden someplace where NOPONY can find it."

I think that last part was for me.

"Please see that it stays that way," Luna adds, "we do not want to see a repeat of that grisly episode."

"No, we don't," Twilight says, with eyes narrowed in my direction.

"What did you want me to do," I query, noting how defensive I'm sounding,"beat him back with harsh language? I very much doubt Mr. Sky Marshall was in any mind to be considered right."

"Even so," Luna warns, "it would do well to remember that Equestria hasn't had this many murders in almost a thousand years. Sir Steven, you- have effectively quadrupled the number of homicides Ponyville, neigh, all of Equestria has even had!"

That gives me a bit of pause, "That is an alarming increase…"

"Aww, look at her!" I coo.

Since the day before, Flutters has been in a sort of restorative coma. Traumatized by my actions and exhausted by her travels to and from the Royal Sisters' Castle, the golden coated object of my affection is curled up in a corner of the lobby. She snores softly even as the foot (or is that hoof?) traffic peals on by. The poor thing… I'll take her home.

If she's this tired, then she might not be in any state to walk or fly back home, so I may as well earn back some good karma and carry her. It's amazing that for a pony so small and light, she has such amazing strength. Or maybe I'm just that out of shape. Either way, she is force to reckon with when in the right situation. I hope I never meet any of those criteria. Getting the stare is bad enough…

You know, I don't think I'll ever take being completely ambulatory for granted again. The trek to Flutters cottage was a long, arduous march when I was using crutches, but now, it's a pleasant little walk. Not even the pony in my arms is much of a burden when I have use of both arms. I'm going to keep my crutches though; a simple reminder of what being partially invalid is like.

So far, all is quiet around the menagerie. All of Fluttershy's critters are asleep and they don't look underfed or no. Good thing, too; I have no idea where she keeps the animal feed. The cottage is expectantly dark. I'm beginning to miss my old Maglite. That XL200 was great at piercing total darkness. I don't even think I'd need 100% power; I know the cottage well enough to navigate by 10% power or even total darkness. Still, I better sort through the pile of artifice that was gathered; I bet I can find my flashlight in there somewhere.

For now, though, I need to put Fluttershy to bed. She's been at the hospital with me (Hand: Not exactly with you, but in the general vicinity of you, I must say.) and I doubt that she had her day planned out to like this. Oof, these stairs are harder to navigate in the dark…! Even with two good feet, I'm almost tripped! Thank God I didn't drop Flutters. I'd never hear the end of that, for sure. Now to open the bedroom door…

Ah, there we go. Huh, I've been here a number of times before, but for the life of me, I can't quite get over just how TINY Fluttershy's bed is. I don't even know how I slept in the damn thing…! Still, it was only intended for pony use; what pony in Equestria would reckon that humans actually existed? Certainly nopony currently alive.

Now to set Flutters down… Ah, yeah, she sleeps under the covers; I should put them on her. Oh. My. Gawd. Flutters asleep… My mind is full of billions and billions of "d'aww!" Hmm, where does she keep-? Ah, there he is, Flutters teddy bear. I should put this in her fore hooves. Aww! It's even cuter when she wraps her legs around that stuffed bear! I should sleep well tonight with that image. One more thing before I go; I should kiss Fluters goodnight.

*Smeck!* Sweet dreams, Fluttershy!

26 Operation: Foalsitter

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From the daily journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Nine:

Sleep didn't happen for me last night. I was in bed around ten o'clock, much earlier than I usually do, and after about three hours of staring at my darkened ceiling, I gave up completely. I've fits of insomnia before, but never to this degree. Last time this happened, I woke up in the middle of the night, went to the bathroom for a little relief and spent the next three hours before dawn in a state of total awareness. I wasn't really asleep, neither was I fully awake. I was just kinda there; when morning sun broke, I was half past dead.
Last night- Man, it was torture. I kept seeing those people I cut down. (Hand That Mourns here. For your information, neuropathy weapons do not "cut" organic flesh. They sever connectivity between major nerves in the body, i.e.: the spinal cord and the brain stem. This typically causes the heart to fail and the brain to die from lack of oxygen.) Thanks, Hand, I didn't think anyone really wanted to know that. (You are welcome. (Not HELPING!)) Stupid holographic ghost… Can't even recognize sarcasm when she reads it…
(Hand again. I recognize your particular brand of sarcasm rather well. I choose to ignore it and play up my archived social niceties. It is far less aggravating than dealing with your cultural kudzu.)
Thank you, Hand! Anyway, because the arcade was wrecked half to shit, I'm getting a few days off. Also, I'm pretty sure my boss, Midway, is scared shitless of me right now. He could have used my hands to make the repairs go a lot faster, but I think he wants to be sure I don't go on another homicidal rampage. He should consider it lucky that I didn't get my hands back on the Siggie. If I had, there would have been a lot more blood…
Man, it is too early in the morning for this shit. I need a large can of Monster now. Hey, Hand, any chance of getting some of the molecular replication tech to make me sixty-four ounces of caffeinated goodness? (It is possible, but I would need the formula for such a beverage.) Yeah, sorry, the last time I had a Monster was back home. I didn't exactly save the can. (Maybe I can replicate some old Imperial Brew and see if that is to your taste?) Yeah, okay. Gonna grab a shower now. Maybe that will keep me awake…

Argh! God… This Imperial Brew is all kinds of wrong! It tastes a little like strained gym socks mixed with flop sweat and urine. I am NEVER drinking this slop again. I definitely don't need to regurgitate my breakfast for the last week… Might be better if I get some hot cocoa from Sugarcube Corner. Who knows, maybe Pinkie is on station again?

The town is looking pretty good considering that the there was a riot not two days ago. Most of the damage has been repaired, the roads are even again,a nd ot a sign of human markings anywhere! Those idiots kept painting the Proletariat tag everywhere they went. (And more than a few of them decided to defecate and/or urinate on public AND private property!) I'm still getting some dire looks from ponies around town, but that should ease off eventually. (Hopefully…) Hmm, I can smell the cinnamon and peppermint coming from Sugarcube! My stomach is all rumbly now… (Heh-heh, I worked in a Winnie The Pooh reference there.)

And there it is, my second home! The gingerbread and cupcake decorated shop where the majority of my foodstuffs come from! (Yes, I'm sugar addict. No, I couldn't care less what you think. And no, I don't need help, thankyouverymuch.) Already I can tell that Mr. and Mrs. Cake are busy bees, even this early in the morning. Let's just see how busy…

Through the door, over the threshold, and WHOA, WHAT IN THE FUCK?! Was that Pinkie Pie? Holy shit, was she moving! It's wonder she doesn't compete and ArDee more often. Whoa… (Obligatory Matrix reference here.) This place is packed! I can hardly move in here, what with all the ponies packed in this place. I can barely stand in the S.C.C. as it is, but today, I can barely move. I swear, just by stepping in the door, I've almost knocked over three mares and six stallions waiting in line.

The crowd is hardly moving. Traffic inside of the Ess See See is so dense, it's wonder the heat gradient hasn't gone up. Then again, ponies are smaller than humans, and even smaller than terrestrial ponies, so I bet the warm won't get so high as to be intolerable. At least not until twice the current number storm the shop… Maybe I should wait until the place is less busy. (If I can stay awake that long.) Of course, it would help if I could move more than two feet. It is so crowded in here…

"Oh, hi there, Steve!"

I know that voice anywhere… "Hey there, Pinks!"

"Kinda busy this morning, isn't it?" Pinkie asks.

"More like hectic," I answer, "never seen the shop so popular before. What is going on?"

"Didn't you see the sign outside?" Pinkie akss.

There was a sign, but my Written Equestrian is still questionable.

"There was a sign, but not in English, Pinks."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot! You can't read Equestrian yet." Pinkie grouses, "Anyways, there's a two for one sale on all specialty cakes, cupcakes, brownies, and swets. I guess everypony wants theres before we run out."

"Fat chance of that happening, though, right?" I say, "Between you and Mr. Cake, this shop will have baked goods until Sol dies out!"

Pinkie giggles, "Of course, silly! So, are you gonna get something?"

"I was hoping Mr. Cake had any lemon treacles today," I answer, "and maybe a large cup of hot cocoa to go."

"Yeah, caffeine!" Pinkie ejaculates, "Caffeine is the best! Are you sure you don't want any coffee?"

"Nah," I tell her, "A.) I haven't had coffee in years, B.) it's against my religion and C.) judging by how fast you've rushing around, I bet the coffee you serve is gonna give me nervous jitters for days on end."

"Oh, I don't drink the coffee," Pinkie says, "that's just me!"

"Then I'd hate to see what you'd be like on coffee," I reply, "I wonder who I gotta kill to get a table."

That was an unfortunate choice of words for around here just now. Every single pony, including the Cakes, stop dead. There are now no less than sixty pairs of eyes staring at me. Awkward! I better say something quick before panic sets out…

"Sorry, everypony," I announce, "noponies dyin' today. Just a figure of expression."

A collective sigh of relief and things return to [relative] normal.

"Note to self," I muse," ponies take everything literally. Must stop to think about what I'm saying before saying it."

"I'm ALWAYS doing that," Pinkie says, "I have so many mental notes, that it takes up a whole filing cabinet in my mental office."

"Always with the non sequitur, eh, Pinkie?"

The Pink Party Pony shrugs and bounces away to greet more customers as the cue I'm standing in files further up. I don't think I can blame her on the nonsense she sometimes spews. I've worked my share of retail jobs, with misleading job titles to match, and the only way to stay relatively sane in those professions is to be a little crazy yourself. And Pinkie is crazy by half! Ah, finally, I'm at the front of the cue.

"Hey there, Steve!" greets Mr. Cake, "Got a hankerin' for somethin'?"

"Oh, yeah, I do!" I rejoinder, "One half dozen of your lemon treacle tarts and a large cup of hot cocoa, if you please."

"You must be psychic," Mr. Cake says in reply, "I only got six of them left!"

"Psychic or lucky," I say, "in either case, gimme!"

Mr. Cake is quick in getting my treacle in a box, and Mrs. Cake is just as fast in getting a cardboard cup filled tot he brim with cocoa goodness. I'm practically drooling over here…

"That'll be fifteen bits," Mr. Cake says, "No discount for you."

"Don't worry," I tell him, as I dig in my pockets and find my last fifteen bits, "I got 'em."

Once my bits are in his hooves, the earth pony throws in them in a till and with a jingling bell, the transaction is done.

"Have a good day!" he calls out.

"Don't you mean, 'ya'll come back now, ya here?'"

Both of the Cakes laugh at my joke. I'm now jostling for position at a table. Jesus, it's crowded in here! For every step I take, at least three new ponies arrive to take up what little room remains of the Ess See See floor. Oh, this is ridiculous! There aren't any empty tables! It's not even seven in the morning yet!! I haven't nearly enough caffeine for this shit… Oh, wait, there's a table! Oops, spoke too soon.

Sidling into the benches of the lone empty table are Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom. I haven't met the Cutie Mark Crusaders as a whole. I've seen Apple Bloom around Ess Ay Ay from time to time. Sweetie Belle is at the Carousel every time I've been to see Rarity about some new outfit. Scootaloo… She's occasionally with Ar Dee, but I've been actively avoided the prismatic weather Pegasus for some time now. Now that Flutters and I have hooked up, it just makes it harder to get away from Ar Dee with my ass on straight. Well, might as well bite the bullet…

I stroll, as evenly as I can with the throng milling about, towards the See Em See. They haven't noticed me yet, so I make a big an attempt at clearing my throat as possible. Given the din, it's a wonder that they can hear me. Scoots does, but when she turns to face me, she gives me look most dour. If I didn't know any better, I'd see she loathes my presence.

"Hello, girls," I say, trying to sound pleasant, "can I cop a seat?"

Apple Bloom answers much to Scootaloo's protesting glare, "Sure, Steve, set a spell."

Bloom has been more or less enamored by me since I complimented her on the job with my flat. That notwithstanding, I sidle into the booth. I barely fit, even though I've gotten slim as a rail. Thankfully, the three fillies in the booth with me are small enough that I don't crush them with my bipedal form.

"So, what are you up to, today?" I query.

"We're doing some crusading today," Sweetie Belle answers, "we haven't tried spe-lunk-ing before, so we're heading out to the White Tail Woods to explore. There's a cave there that looks interesting!"

"Imma tellin' ya, Sweetie, caves ain't the best ider." Bloom chides.

"Oh, please, Bloom," Scootaloo retorts, "you go through one frightening cave and it sets against them for life! Come on!! The cave in White Tail isn't very deep from what I heard; we can be in and out of it by this afternoon!"

Apple Bloom visibly lightens, telling me that she is dead set against this idea. Wonder what's got her so scared? From what I know of Apple Bloom, she's hardly afraid of anything, not unlike her big sister.

"Trust me, Scoots," Bloom fires back, "you weren't there. We're talkin' about the SCARIEST CAVE IN ALL OF EQUESTRIA. They donna call it that for nothin'."

"Who da wha now?" I say, nonplussed.

"Well…" Bloom starts, but ti's Sweetie Belle who finishes, "It seems Pinkie Pie may be related to Applejack. In order to prove it, The Apple Family went on a road trip, with Pinkie in tow, and during their travels, they inadvertin- inad- accidentally went into a very scary cave."

Apple Bloom corrects her friend, "The Scariest Cave in All of Equestria!"

"Okay, okay, we get!" Scootaloo interjects, "Scary cave, Bloom is a scaredy pony. Can we get a move on please?"

"I am NOT a scaredy pony!" Bloom shoots back.

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are NOT!"

"ARE TOO!"

"ARE NOT!!"

I gotta quell this argument before it gets out of control.

"Ladies, ladies, LADIES!" I interrupt, "Bickering like this is no good for anypony. Trust me, everyone I've ever known is scared of something."

"Oh, yeah?" Scootaloo challenges, "What are YOU afraid of?"

I reply, "Heights; I am deathly afraid of getting higher than three feet off the ground."

Scootaloo tries to hide a snicker, but Sweetie belle nudges the orange coated filly with a fetlock. Scoots laughter is quelled immediately.

"Don't laugh," Sweetie warns, "not everypony can be fearless like you."

Scoots scoffs, but I rejoinder Sweetie's statement.

"Anyone who claims to be absolutely fearless is both a braggart and a liar. True words."

Bloom and Sweetie nod, but Scootaloo looks mutinous. What bee's in her bonnet?

"ANYWAY, I thought you fillies had school today?"

"We did, but it was canceled," answers Sweetie, "the hoomans wrecked the schoolhouse. It's gonna be a few days before it's fully repaired."

Taking a sip of my hot cocoa, I nod.

"Good thing ya took care o' 'em, huh, Steve?" Bloom- blooms.

"Guess so," I reply, "if I hadn't, who knows what they would have done."

"Would they've…" begins Sweetie Belle, but I already know what she planned on asking.

"Given a halfway decent chance, yeah, I think could've."

Three bodies shiver at the thought.

"So, no classes today, eh? Kinda like a snow day?" I inquire.

"Kinda," Scoots replies.

"I wonder what a cutie mark in spe-lunk-ing looks like?" Sweetie belle ponders.

"Probably a hard hat and flashlight," I answer flippantly, "by the way, why exactly are these 'cutie marks' so important."

I just had to ask. The trio of fillies start at once, filling me in one of the biggest of mysteries in all of Equestria. I'm informed of what a cutie mark is for, why everypony has one and why they need theirs, as soon as possible. I AM OVERWHELMED.

"Wow," I stammer, "they must be the single most important thing to acquire for a young pony."

I get three nods from my filly companions.

"How could you not know what cutie marks are?" Scootaloo asks.

"Humans don't get 'cutie marks.' Unless you count tattoos and getting one of those is painful, from what I've heard."

"Do you really think that you can get a cutie mark for doing risky, painful, and possibly dangerous stunts?"

"Why couldn't we?" Scootaloo answers.

I think on this for a minute, nursing my now lukewarm cocoa.

"Okay, tell me something," I ask, "just what are you fillies good at?"

All I get are bank stares, like the question is impossible to answer.

"Come on now," I say, "there's gotta be something each of you can do that is better than anyone else at school, no?"

"Well…" Sweetie belle starts.

"I've been doin' these potion with Zecora," Bloom states, "I'm gettin' pretty good."

"Okay, that's a start." I say.

"I can really fly with my scooter." Scootaloo enjoins.

I reply, "That's not really what I was talking about."

"Oh," Scootaloo replies, dejectedly, "Uh, well, I can- uh- I can dance, a little."

"That's better," I reply, "what about you, Sweets?"

Sweetie stammers, "I- I, uh-"

"Come on, Sweetie belle, you must be able to do something…" I encourage.

"Yeah, besides mass carnage in your sisters work room!"

"Scootaloo!" seethes Bloom.

"Pay no attention to the winged idiot," I say, "what is that you are really good at, Sweets?"

"I- I- I-, uh-"

I nod, letting her know nothing she says will be embarrassing. It's not Sweetie that answers me, though.

"She can sing," Bloom interjects, "she's gotta awesome voice. Done know why she doesn't use it more often."

"Because it's mortifying!" Sweetie Belle whispers vehemently, "pay the farm pony no mind-"

"Okay, now you got my curiosity piqued," I tell them "I would definitely love to see what you all can do."

The See Em See is less than thrilled about this prospect; I can see it in their forlorn faces. Oh, I got an idea!

"I'll tell you what," I say, "meet me at your clubhouse in an hour. I got a plan that is way better than anything you guys have got."

"Sure of that, are we?" Scootaloo challenges again.

"Two hundred and fifty percent sure." I reply.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders Clubhouse sits in a tree at the far end of Sweet Apple Acres. The tree isn't all that big, but the clubhouse itself is too small for me to enter. In order for me to look inside, I have to stand at a window. I'm the first to arrive, though, so I can ponder the furnishing inside the little tree house with abandon. The tree house comes with all the standard accoutrements of childhood. There's a recliner inside, several maps and illustrations adorn the walls, there are curtains on the windows, and I see a corner of the clubhouse dedicated to every reasonably intelligent beings sport, thinking. (Some thinking spots I've seen include a toilet or commode… appropriately furnished with lewd magazines or periodicals of the day.) Ah, here they come! Even better, Scootaloo has brought with her a little red wagon! Perfect for what I have in store for them all.

"Yer here!" Apple Bloom exclaims.

"But of course," I tell her, ruffling her mane as walks near, "why wouldn't I?"

"Maybe you have something ELSE that needs attending?" barbs Scootaloo.

"Nothing at the present," I tell her, "so you're stuck with me for the now."

"So," Sweetie belle starts nervously, "what exactly are we doing?"

"I think you're gonna like thi-"

"Well, well, what do you have here?" says a condescending voice.

"Was is das?" I muse.

From behind a copse of trees saunter two fillies. Both have cutie marks on their flanks and the one closest to us is pale magenta with a two toned mane of light violet and white; her cutie mark is a tiara. The silver filly behind her bears a silver spoon as a cutie mark, which matches her coat, and the mane on this one is grey and blue-grey. She also has a string of pearls around her neck and a pair of hipster glasses across the bridge of her muzzle. Both wear leary grins and I feel malice coming from both.

"I say we have a trio of losers," says the spoony brat, "and an ugly monkey thing."

"Monkey? Seriosuly? That's the best you can come up with?" I pepper.

Both fillies looked alarmed by my ability for speech.

"Rgghh," growls Apple Bloom, "Whadda you want, Diamond Tiara?"

"Oh, I was in the neighborhood," Tiara states nonchalantly, "when I just so happen to see this thing leaning on your, eh-heh, 'clubhouse.'"

The silvery filly besides Tiara nods.

Diamond Tiara continues, "I though, 'What is that hideous thing doing there? Is he going to try to eat those blank-flanks? I wonder if I could sell tickets for an event like that…'"

"Pretty self assured of yourself, ain't ya?" I growl.

The circlet wearing filly ignores me, "So I dropped by hoping to see something interesting. I guess I asking for too much…"

"Out of our way, you two," Scootaloo demands, "we have some crusading to do!"

"Oh, please," the silver filly speaks, "like anything you three are doing can really get you your cutie marks."

"Hold on now," I utter, "what is ya'll's problem, anyway?I don;t think I've heard of these three ever giving a hassle."

"Oh," Diamond muses, "it's not what problem they have with us. It's more like, they have a problem being proper ponies."

Okay, that tears it.

"Oh, really," I say, "so, for want of a cutie mark, these three upstanding fillies deserve your ire?"

"Well, duh," Diamond says, "you aren't really a pony until you get your cutie mark."

"Okay, then," I challenge, crouching down so I'm near eye level with the two bullying fillies, "first thing you should know: I don't like bullies. Second thing you should know: I'm a hella lot smarter than you. The third thing you should know: if you bully me friends, you will get hurt!"

I see both fillies cringe back in fear. Some of my exploits during the flash mob are still on their minds… I stand up, letting them see just how big I really am.

I continue, "Fourth thing you should know: I'm bigger and stronger than you. Fifth thing you should know: if you plan on being a bully, be prepared to face bigger and badder bullies."

"W-what does that m-matter?" Diamond stammers.

"It matters," I say, "because fools like you don't know when to stop. This is your first, and final, warning: leave these three fillies alone, or I will make your lives a living hell. I'm not talking Tartarus or whatever; I'm talking stringing ya up, beating you to within an inch of your life, and then spraying you down with a salt-and-lemon-juice to add insult and injury."

Oh, the look in Diamond's and Silver's eyes! Priceless…

Before setting out for the See Em See's clubhouse, I asked Hand That Mourns for a quick favor. After a brief transport to the Royal Sister's Castle and setting up some things, I transported back to my flat. The gear I requested was like nothing Hand had seen before, but well within the manufacturing capabilities of her replicators.

The first one was a camo-wall. Think it like a deer blind: it's a wall that you can hide behind. The difference between that and some of the camouflage I've seen back home is that the camo wall bends light to make the it invisible or reflect the local environment adjacent. Think of it as Predator-flague. The second one is something I didn't think was humanly possible, but it was the catalog that Hand showed me: sensory stimulus blockers. These are like a portable sensory deprivation chamber. The major difference is that you can tailor it to what senses you want diminished. (I could have used one of these that one time my friends dragged me to the Republican National Convention. Wouldn't have minded not being to see, hear, or smell the convention.)

After dispatching the Gruesome Twosome, as I like to think of them, I gathered the three fillies into Scootaloo's wagon. I had each of them put on a stim-blocker, telling them it is was something like a blindfold. It wasn't entirely the truth, but it was true in some regards. With their senses totally blocked, I gathered them into the wagon and carted them to town. They couldn't see where I was going which was part of my plan. I was going to use the camo wall to block out the view of where we really were and hope that by demonstrating the special skills in public, they might earn their cutie marks at last. With my target in sight, I stopped the wagon, set up the wall, and deactivated certain of the fillies senses.

For Scootaloo, I unlocked her sense of touch, her sense of balance (yes, the stim blockers can block that), and her sense of hearing. For Sweetie Belle, I reactivated her sense of hearing, touch, and sight. (I didn't want her to smell or taste whatever scents were in the air.) Applebloom had all her senses but limited her sight to a tunnel vision version of it's former glory. With that all established, I set the girls to task.

I tweaked Scoots hearing a tad so she could my voice fine, but all others as music. When I told her about "this great new song" that was playing, she immediately started to dance to it. I know these fillies are cute as the Dickens, but when Scoots starting getting into the rhythm, damn! Sweetie hearing was similarly tweaked, but all other voices but mine were of a symphony playing. I let her know that I took her to a nearby concert hall and the sounds she was hearing were of the musicians music piped into a private, sound proof room just offstage. She took off with a song right quick; I was I awe of just how beautiful her young voice sounded. Applebloom's settings, save her sight, were untouched. I showed her to make gunpowder, from what limited knowledge I posses of the chemical, and she set right to work. Not only did she make the gunpowder flawlessly, I'm pretty sure the rocket went sent high over Ponyville got it's fair share of adulation.

None of the fillies were aware of where they were and the camo wall kept them blissfully unaware that they were no longer at Sweet Apple Acres. I eventually dropped the camo wall, so as to allow the crowd gathering a preview of what they could only guess it. Gradually, I dropped the blockers power, letting the three fillies regain the totally of the their senses. Oh, what did you know, they were so caught up in their own thing, they hardly noticed the crowd as they began clapping.

That is until Sweetie Belle stopped singing to admire the glowing, heart shaped, quarter note brand that magically appeared on her flank. Scoots stopped dancing to notice her unicorn friend's surprise before she, too, noticed her feathery cutie mark on here flank. Applebloom was the most shocked, and her her surprise highly audible, when the blooming apple flower appeared on her flank. They might have been pissed at me for deceiving them like I did, but it worked out well for all parties.

I got tackled by three cute fillies, smiles miles wide on their faces, as they thanked my for the assistance. Scootaloo, who told me in the confidence of the moment, that she was mad at me for rebuffing her adopted sister Ar Dee, was now highly forgiving for choosing another Pegasus instead of her mentor. I bet when these fillies get home, their families are gonna celebrating their daughters coming of age. I know I will!

Author's Notes:

Steve gets a playdate with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Not every one of them thinks he's cool. But after a certain crusade actually goes well, that certain filly may have to reconsider the way she thinks about our wayward human. By the by, this chapter happens shortly after Flight to the Finish (SE4, EP5) but before Power Ponies (SE4, EP6). I make a reference to THE SCARIEST CAVE IN EQUESTRIA, which you can assume means that Pinkie Apple Pie (SE4, EP9) happened between FttF and PP. BY the way, anyone who has a thing for Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon might wanna avoid this chapter. (Oh, does Steve let Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have it!) In large part, I'm taking some liberties with the storyline for Season Four, but if you ask me, S4 should have been the season the CMC got their cutie marks.

How I think the CMC's cutie marks should look like:

27 Wicked, Trixie, False

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Twelve:

It isn't a day in Ponyville without something going nuts. Thankfully, these last few days have been rather pleasant and uneventful. I'm still getting some stares from ponies passing by but they have been lessening of late. Hand That Mourns has finished the autopsies on the 30 humans that ambushed the town. Her analyses prove inconclusive… According to my ghostly hump buster, those humans wearing the Proletariat Sigil had no sign of infection, no abnormalities in their blood or nervous systems. No tumors, no hallucinogens, nor any bacteriological manifestations. There is no explanation for their behavior. I can't tell if I'm mad, bemused, or frustrated with that news.
Flutters and I have been out in public more often. I had to make some concessions to ensure her that I wasn't one of those yahoos that attacked Ponyville. (Although, now that I think about it, there isn't much difference between myself and the Proletariat throng. Maybe I smell better, I dunno. The Equestrians are a lot like the Houyhnhnm, although a little less perfect than I would imagine. I couldn't care less if I'm the reincarnation of Lemuel Gulliver, but I'll be damned if I let these Proletariat Yahoos burn this world down!) She doesn't seem convinced, but with every affectionate kiss and every tender stroke, I believe I'm making headway.
Now a rather curious thing happened just yesterday. I didn't write it down in my last journal entry because it occured while I should have been sleeping. It seems a visitor to Ponyville slipped in during the night. I only noticed it because the little wagon this visitor crept on in had a squeaky wheel that woke me up. In the morning, I asked Applejack who the mysterious stranger was. She growled a bit and then told me in the iciest tone she could muster that the carriage belonged to one Trixie, the quote-unquote Great and Powerful.
Wow, talk about an ego! Ay Jay also told me that the unicorn mare was responsible for turning Ponyville in a dictatorship for a small while. She had gotten something called "the alicorn amulet" and used it to bend Ponyville under her hooves. She also drove out Twilight Sparkle, the only unicorn in town able to match her, trick for trick. Twilight was able to return though, and beat Trixie with a bit of practiced deception. Clever girl… It's assumed that Trixie is back for a rematch or maybe she is here to offer some apologies. Whichever the case may be, it should prove rather interesting…
That reminds me, albeit a little left field, I have a date with Flutters tomorrow night. We'll be going to the Saddle and Bit, a quaint little theme restaurant in town square. The place is set up with a racing pony scheme; the food is good, but the prices are nothing to sneeze at. I'm not sure I can afford the place, but I'm gonna try. Midway has been pleased with work as of late, and just a day ago he gave me a raise. I'll get paid tomorrow, so I'll see just how big a raise this is.
Those three fillies I helped out the other day have become the talk of the school. The way I hear it, Apple Bloom, Sweetie belle, and Scootaloo are now the new stars of the Ponyville Elementary. I bet that took a lot of the piss and vinegar out of those two bullying fillies, though. I haven't heard any complaints so far from the Cutie mark Crusaders, but that doesn't mean Silver Schooner and Diamond Hard-On are done with them yet. If they think they can harass my three favorite fillies, they got another think coming. They haven't seen me crazy yet!

Ah, what a warm afternoon! It feels like only yesterday that the Summer Sun Celebration started. From what I was told, that was a hectic holiday that few expected. Still, this ole Sunshine Belt Kid is loving the weather! Wonder how high the old thermometer is supposed to reach today? Meteorology is a more precise science here in Equestria than it is back home, but that doesn't mean it's absolutely perfect. The Pegasi are only ponies, after all.

Still, it's a warm day, the sun is unhindered by clouds or other heavenly phenomenon, and I bet a small riot is gonna break out when Button mash and Featherweight see the new consoles that Midway and I just set up. I've got twenty bits that they'll be fighting hoof and muzzle over the new arcade machine, House of the Pony Undead. I bet Scootaloo would get a quick out of that one…

"Steven, are you receiving?"

Ah, my erstwhile deus ex machina. I was wondering where Hand That Mourns had gotten to.

"Hello, Hand, how's tricks?"

"I do not understand that," Hand says, "but I have some news you may find comforting."

"Lay it on me, Ghost in the Machine!"

I can almost hear Hand wincing at that term, "*AHEM!* It will be please you to know I have reactivated Dyson's Spheres three through seven. I now have more resources to help you acclimate to this world."

"Sounds good," I assure Hand, "what else you got?"

"My resources for molecular replication have vastly improved with the reactivation of Dyson's Sphere number nine. I can now rebuild many of your personal effects with at least 97% accuracy."

"Sweet!" I tell her.

"You should also find this of interest," Hand says, a hint of mischief in her voice, "I have compiled enough of about your psychology and eccentricities to devise you a personal ancilla."

"Come again?" I ask.

"I was not meant to be a personal adjunct," Hand explains, "I was intended to run the Imperial Central Communications Array until such time as a Returner was found. Now that you are here, and I have the resources to begin effectively reproducing vital Imperial technology, I can finally do my intended routines. As such, I have used your personality, and all its quirks, to devise you a personal ancilla adjunct. When you have time, please report to Central Command. I can then upload your ancilla then."

"Oh, cool!" I exclaim, "My own personal Cortana! I can't wait to show Twilight… Gotta to get to work first. Later, Hand!"

Huh, that's weird. When did the carnival come to town? I swear, that noise carried by today's light breeze comes from a calliope… Wow, where those fireworks?! Crazy stuff… There sure a lot of ponies assembled in the town square today. Gotta wonder what's going on. Oh, look! There's a pair of ponies breaking form the crowd. I wonder… Oh, yeah, my two favorite filly foolers are coming by!

"Where you at?" I greet.

"What it is!" Lyra responds, throwing up a fore hoof like she wants to high five me while her marefriend , Bonbon, face hoofs at her paramour's antics. I settle for a hoof bump.

"Didn't expect to see you two wandering the streets of Ponyville. Don't you have some sweets to sell, Bonnie lass?" I say.

"I would," Bonbon replies, "if anypony were willing to buy. They seem- distracted."

"By what?" I entreaty.

"By that treacherous whorse that just strode back into town," Lyra growls, "she's putting on a new stage act. It's lot better than the one she had when first blew into town, but I don't trust her."

"Trust who?" I ask.

"The Tamed and Less-Than-Stellar Trixie." my pony friends answer.

"Ah, yeah, I've heard of her," I muse, "some sort of stage magician, yeah?"

Lyra nods as Bonbon speaks, "No doubt you've heard about her form somepony."

I nod, "You could say I got it straight from the horses mouth."

Bonbon and Lyra give me a querulous look. Crickets are chirping, apropos to nothing.

Noting that my companions are looking at me strangely, I ask, "I take it I said something strange?"

"Indeed, you did," Bonbon challenges, "you should choose your words more carefully. You have more influence than you know."

"Seriously," I query, "who could I influence with my words?"

Bonbon answers not in words but with a hoof pointed at her lime colored lover, who is writing every memorable thing I say down on a pad with a pencil in her mouth. She obviously has given up using her magic in my presence. The last time she tried, I got doused in ink.

"Oh, I see," I retort, "I should probably tone down my non sequitur too, eh?"

Bonbon nods.

"Alright, I'll make a go of it," I say, "back on topic, if Trixie is back, does that mean she's up for another go 'round with Twilight?"

"It's hard to say," Lyra replies, "she seems in better spirits than last she was here."

"Of course," Bonbon continues, "last time she was apple bucking crazy, so it's anypony's guess what she'll do now."

"Best to keep an eye out, then?" I ask.

Bonbon groans and Lyra looks aghast when i say that. Inwardly, I groan.

"I mean, it'd be best to keep a watchful vigil on the magician, yes?"

"Yes," the two lovers answer in unison.

"Okay, then," I reply, "well, I gotta get to work. I'm running late as it is. If you gals wanna come with, I'm sure Midway wouldn't mind much. Just as long as you don't just stand there doin' nothing."

"Well, my day is shot," Bonbon laments, "I don't see the point of going home yet. Coming, Lyra?"

"Why not," Lyra answers, "I get to hang out with you, and I get to see Steve uses those 'fingers' of his."

"Just as long as you don't lick 'em." I warn.

Lyra nods, reluctantly, and we march away from the growing crowd. The streets are empty outside the square, so it doesn't take us long to get to the Promenade. In spite of the doings in the town square, the arcade is bustling with foals of every type. I see Button Mash and Featherweight dueling over gaming rights to HotPU already. Scootaloo, and her new cutie mark, are cutting a rug with Sweetie Belle on a DDR-like machine. Apple Bloom is pounding away at a simulated boxing game. She's actually pretty good at it. I see Midway chatting up a mare I don't know, but I've seen her in the marketplace selling roses and assorted flowers.

"Mornin', Middie," I call, "fair bit of trade today, huh?"

"Darn tootin'," MIdway replies, "goin' get busier later, though. It's good thing yer here."

"Is it?" I ask, "What's the sit-rep?"

"Got a new console," Midway tells me, leaning a hoof over to a large shape covered in tarp, "just came in from Neihgpon. I'm gettin' to old for these sorta things. Figurin' you can set it up."

"Leave it to me," I exclaim, "that thing'll be up before the hour ends!"

Holy damn, is it busy. I guess with school out for summer, the foals in Ponyville Elementary are out and about. They seem very interested in the game I just put up. It's some sort of go-kart game; it kinda reminds me of Sugar Rush from Wreck-It Ralph. They even have candy themed character in it. Small worlds, eh?

I would have thought that the kids would have been checking out the magic show but I guess quite a few of them are less enthralled by this Trixie character than I thought. Having never seen the mare before, I have no opinion on her, but I wouldn't mind seeing her duke it out with Twilight. The princess of organization has some comeuppance coming to her, I swear…

By the way, the mare that Middie was talking to is named Roseluck. I knew I saw her somewhere. Her flower stall sits right next to Berryshine's Fine Spirits. Is it me, or is it just plain weird that a flower shop sits next to a liquor store? Anyway, Middie and Rosie were having a grand ole time; I felt it best not to interrupt, even after Snails and Snips got into a hoof fight over the high score in The Super Stallion Brothers. Pfft, colts… A busy day, all around, in my opinion.

Hey, what is that? There's a string of ponies coming up the road. What are they doing? It looks like they're circling around somepony in the middle… Huh, that's interesting. I see a pony wearing a pointy witches hat in the center of the throng. Who in Equestria would warrant such a mob? It's definitely not one of the Princesses. I'd be able to see either Celestia's or Luna's heads above the crowd. This must be a common pony or something. Got's to wonder who it might be…

"…nd powerful Trixie?"

Did I just hear the name Trixie? There's a clamor around the pony in the middle and I can't hear what is said next over the din. Whoever is assembled the mob must be either quite charismatic or very intriguing. It smells like trouble to me.

"Marvel as The Great and Power Trixie brandishes magic the likes of which have never before been seen in all of Equestria!"

A stallion in the crowd calls out, "You haven't gotten the Alicorn Amulet again, have you?"

"N-no," answers the one called Trixie, "but I have studied arcane energies the likes neither of the Princesses have ever laid eyes on."

"I'll believe it when I see it," challenges a skeptical mare.

"So will I," I add, "especially when said pony speaks like a lion but walks as a lamb."

"Who dares-" shouts the bragging sorceress, but when she spots me, she stops dead.

"Surprised, aren't ya?" I ask.

"What in the hay are you supposed to be?" Trixie inquires.

"The name is Ambrose, Steven Ambrose, license to ill." I reply.

"Huh," Trixie scoffs, "and why does a- beast, like yourself doubt the Great and Powerful Trixie?"

"I have trouble buying anything from someone who refers to themselves in third person. It makes me leery of their intentions and possibly their sanity. So, praytell, who are you and what are you sellin'?"

Ok, the look Trixie gives me is fucking priceless! It's a combination of incredulous and surprise. I seem to have called Trixie for the huckster she is.

"Why you…!" the magician growls, "I'll get you for that!"

What happens next is completely the mare's fault, not mine. Trixie's horn begins to glow and I can feel my glasses starting to slip off my face. They get about a third the way down my nose, and Trixie is powering everything she can just to this little bit of teke, and BANG! ZOOM! To the ground, Alice! Trixie lands on her back, a trickle of blood streaming from her nose, and her hat is burning merry Hell somewhere off in the distance. The string that hounded the magician earlier is now stifling giggles over Trixie's faulty performance.

"I take it that don't go as planned, eh?" I ask.

"No," grunts the now incensed mare, "but this will…"

She lets off a bolt of magic and the startled spectators dash for cover. I have a pretty good idea this is gonna hurt. That's when I notice the royal blue field in front of me. The spell Trixie lobs smashes harmlessly against the field. Huh, how did that happen?

"Hand?" I call, "Hand, was that you?"

No response…

"Hand, come on," i repeat, "Where are ya? Talk to me."

The blue field stays up as Trixie lobs bolt after bolt of magic at me, to no effect. Needless to say, I'm quite confuzzled.

"How- are- you- doing- this?!" Trixie raves, "You- can't have- magic- you're- just- a stupid- ape!"

""Beats me," I quip, "but knowing it frustrates you, this makes my day all the better."

"…Archmage…"

About time!

"Where have you been, Hand?!" I roar, "I could use a bolt caster or a Taser right about now!"

At first there's static then, "…Archmage…"

"Come again," I query, "What are you saying, Hand?"

"One moment," Hand informs me, all the while, Trixie is getting more and more desperate to do me some manner of harm or another.

"Anytime now, Hand." I growl.

"I have you locked, one moment, please." Hand tells me.

"Why- won't- you- go- down?!" Trixie bellows, her face twisting in rage, "You- can't- avoid- my- wrath-! The wrath- of- Trixie- the great- and POWERFUL!"

A pulse of light, and Trixie's assault ends. She's locked in place with a sneer or maybe a grimace. Of what, I can't say, I get the sense it's of defeat.

"Hand, what was THAT?!"

"Neural Impulse Disruptor," Hand answers, "the mare shall be fine. All her voluntary motor reflexes are currently blocked but in another hour or two, she should be mobile again. Mind you, I do not begrudge her the migraine she will have when she is fully revived."

"Brilliant," I exclaim, "now, uh, was that your shield used against her curses?"

"Nay," Hand informs me, "I believe you did that on your own."

"Huh?"

"There is much I do not fully understand, Archmage, child of Ambrose. I am of the opinion that we keep this to ourselves for now."

"Keep what to ourselves, Hand?"

Hand sighs, as much as a displaced soul can and says, "That you have latent magical capabilities."

WHA DA FUQ?!

28 My Little Human: Acquaintance is Chaos

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From the daily journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Fifteen:

My Date with Fluttershy was quite lovely. We had a wonderful dinner, did some dancing at the Mustang Club, then walked out towards White tail Woods to gaze at the stars. Ah, I don't think I've ever been so at peace before in my life. The date ended with a little third base action at Fluttershy's cottage. She wasn't feeling up to some heavier hanky-panky and I respected that decision. It's not I was gonna get blue balls or something.
Trixie is still in town, but I didn't see her on my date. I hope that the neural disruption beam was enough to discourage her from trying to attack me again. I'd rather like to refrain from using that too often. I get this sinking feeling it's like the neuralyzer from the Men in Black movies. Only much scarier because it's fired FROM HIGH FUCKING ORBIT! Yeah, that'll scramble and/or kill some brain cells. Uh-huh! So, I'd like to keep that as a weapon of last resort, say, for when those Proletariat idiots crop back up again. I bet I can get Esmeralda to disperse a wide beam pulse to drop a crowd of hundred or more. Of course, that as soon as Hand That Mourns gets some of the other nearby Dyson's Sphere's working again.
Oh, yeah, that's right, I know I was forgetting something! I got me a new ancilla!! Esmer, would you like to say a few words?
(Oh, yes, I would! Hiya, I'm Esmeralda! You can just call me Esmer. I'm a class eight artificially intelligent ancillary unit. I have a big sister in Hand That Mourns. Or is it mother? She did create me… Well, I think of her as a sister, all the same! Oh, and I like butterflies, and the color blue-violet, that butter cream colored pony named Fluttershy (Oh my Faust, she is soooo cute!) and my favorite past time is listening to music. Uh, I think that's it. I'm sorry if I don't have anything more interesting to say. I've been online for just over twenty-four hours.)
That's okay, Esmer, I think they get the gist now. Oh, man, when I showed Flutters little Esmeralda, she just about lost her mind. (That's before she did one of those little squeaks. Like I said, sooooo cute!) Thanks, Esmer. Anyway, she and Esmer talked for quite a while. I was actually a little sorry that I had break up the conversation. Flutters is my marefriend after all.
Hand still hasn't explained that shit about the Archmage. She said she would, but when I retrieved Esmer, she said she hadn't finished looking into it. That right there scares the fuck out of me. When I was blocking Trixie's attacks, Hand kept calling me "archmage." Other than a Dungeons & Dragons reference, I have no idea what she's talking about. Esmer is also strangely reticent on the subject, I expect her silence is due to respect to her "big sister." Anyway, i need to start pressing Hand for some goddamn answers. I hate being kept in the dark.

The girls are away on business in Manehattan, so I'm left to my own devices for the next few days. They're gonna be helping Rarity with her Fashion Week presentation and then they're heading over to Rainbow Falls for the Swap meet going on over there. I would've loved to head for the swap meet, but Twilight was concerned a human might cause a panic. This is especially true since the Sister Princesses haven't made it common knowledge about my presence.

So, seeing as I'm alone this week, I decided to drop by Bonbon's house to chill out for a while. It's actually kind of fun hanging out over there. Bonnie Lass keeps me filled to bursting with sweets and Lyra is hilarious, when her human mania is making her all stalkerish. She's been a lot more stalkery as of late, after witnessing my little stunt against Trixie the other day. Not only am I the "freakishly smart hooman," I'm also the "freakishly smart hooman with magical powers."

Whelp, better I get to it than sit around the house, being all procrastinated and all. Like most days in Ponyville, the weather is just fantastic. It's strange to see the sky free of Rainbow Dash, but what can you do? Hey, is that-? No way! That is Derpy! What is she doing making the weather today? Thunderlane and Blossomforth flanking her, as well. I didn't know they were part of the Ponyville Weather Team. Huh, color my surprised.

"Yo, Ditzay! What's shaking, girl?" I call.

The mare in question lands awkwardly in front of me, "Heya, Steve! What's shakin'?"

"Hey, Ditzy," Thunderlane yells, "are we done for the day?"

"Yeah, Thundy," Derpy replies, "you and Blossom can clock out."

"Cool," Thunderlane says; both he and Blossomforth race off to the Weather Team Headquarters near Town Hall.

"Soooooo," Ditzy croons, "♪whatcha doin'?♫"

"Not much," I admit, "was headin' down to Bonbon's to hang out with her and Lyra."

"Sweet," Derpy says, "Hey, you should drop by later at my place. Timey wants to see you about something. And I got a new muffin recipe I want to try out on ya."

"Cool," I say, "I think I'll do that. Any idea what Turner wants to see me about?"

Derpy shrugs, "Not a clue. He wanted to see you himself, but he had an accident over the weekend; he's not really himself right now."

"Howda ya mean?" I ask, turning on some Simon Pegg for effect.

"You'll see when you come by," Ditzy teases, "anyway, I gotta go. Dinky should be just be getting outta school by now."

"Alright, bye," I say; I watch Derpy take off for the sky and promptly smack into a flagpole.

"Huh," the bubbly mare says, "how did that get there?"

I shrug my shoulders and carry on. Lyra's and Bonbon's place isn't that far away from the central market, but it's not exactly a hop, skip, and jump from Sweet Apple Acres. It takes me another ten minutes for me to see the house. Like a lot of the homes in Ponyville, Bonbon's home has a thatched roof, a wood frame peeking out of the corners of the adobe walls, and pony sized windows that swing out. The only difference between Bonnie's house and most other ponies homes is the industrial sized chimney rising from the back of the house. Also, the front gate of Bonnie's house has a pair of ceramic butterscotch candies fastened to it.

There's no sign of the confectioner, but I do hear the melodious sound of harp strings. Lyra must be home. Like the thousand or so times I've been by here so far, I just walk over the gate (Bonnie hates it when I do that, but I can never get the gate unlatched. It doesn't help that my legs easily swing over the pony sized fence) and I step onto the path leading to the front door. It amuses me that the door knocker is in the shape of a lyre. Can't say why, though…

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!*

From beyond the door, I hear, "Where you at?"

"What it is," I reply.

A clatter of hooves? Huh, just what in the name of Mike is Lyra doing in there? It sounds like she's rearranging the place. The doodelyfuck is going on in there, anyway?

"♪Come in!♫" Lyra beckons.

Now I'm afraid of what I'll find once I pass the threshold…! I'm opening the door now- Huh? Nothing's changed. That's weird. About the only thing I can see that's even remotely different is the phonograph in the corner. Of, course, it's Bonbon's phonograph, but it's usually in corner opposite the kitchen, not smack dab in the middle of the sitting room.

"Yo, Lyra, where you at?" I call out.

That's when the record players starts up, auditory epicness awesome piping into the room.

"Hey there, brony!"

HOLY FUCK! Lyra snuck up on me! Jesus, how in the Hell did she get behind me?!

"Damn, Ly-ly, when did you become a ninja?" I ask.

"I'm not a ninja," Lyra replies, "but for you, I could be. By the way, what's a ninja?"

I wave her off in favor of another question, "What's a brony?"

Lyra looks at me quizzically and than swats me with a for leg, "That's you, silly! Now gimme a hoof."

The minty unicorn tries to give me a high five. She fails; she face plants into the carpet right in front of me. It's both adorable and hilarious. I can't decide if I should help her back to her hooves or laugh maniacally. I settle for a small chuckle as I assist Lyra back to a more dignified position.

"Brony, eh?" I query, "where in Equestria did you get that?"

"Actually, I've wanting to use that word for a long time, but Bonnie has always kept me from doing so," answers my mint colored hostess, "but she's at work right now."

"If that devilish grin on your face means you're gonna do something crazy, Lyra," I warn, "then I'm going to get outta here. I've had enough from Her Ladyship, Sparklebutt."

"Oh, nonono," protests Lyra, "I'm not gonna do anything like that! I just, wanna hang out with my favorite hooman…"

"I'm your only human. And, I'm the only sane human you know, Ly-Ly." I add.

"Pshaw!" Lyra retorts, then in a wild attempt to redirect the conversation, "would like to take a seat?"

"Yeah, actually," I respond, "and you still haven't answered my question."

"What was that?" Lyra asks.

"Where did you get the term 'brony?' I've certainly never used it."

"Well…" Lyra says sheepishly, "you're not a pony, and you're also not any of the other sentient creatures in Equestria or the lands beyond."

"No kidding," I grouse.

"Since you are intelligent, and at least somewhat civilized-" I which point I give a protesting shout, "I think it's safe to say that you're one-of-kind entity. And the other day I hear you something about a brother…"

"Yeah, my baby bro, Jonathon."

"So, I put two and two together…" Lyra finishes, holding out her hooves at me.

"Brother plus pony. Bro-ny." I continue.

Lyra nods enthusiastically.

"Well, at least Discord didn't have a hand in it," I muse, "last time I was helping out Fluttershy, he kept popping up all over the place, trying to give me a nickname. Some of the stupidest nicknames I've ever heard, too." Lyra's eyes went wide with wonder before I said, "And no, I'm not repeating them. I had to have Esmer hit him with a neural disruptor blast. Thankfully, Flutters never found out about it…"

"Why not?" Lyra asks.

"I let the chimera know in no uncertain terms that if he thought the neural was bad, I had a ton of other stuff waiting in the wings." I answer, "'Twas a bluff, but he doesn't need to know that."

"Oh, you are good!" Lyra sings.

"But of course," I say, "so, what are we going to do tonight, Brain?"

"The same thing we do every night, Pinky," Lyra says, doing her best to sound menacing, "try take over Equestria!"

Well, that was a few good hours killed. Lyra entertained me with some pony humor, we had some sandwiches (I opted for some of the luncheon meat variety, though I have NO idea where Lyra got the goods), and we talked for a while until Bonbon came back. Then all three of us had a wonderful dinner of oats and whey (much better than I expected to taste) and finally, we had a game or six of three card brag. Best evening ever!

Now that I think about it, the evening isn't over for me. Derpy invited me for muffins and a short pow-wow with Time Turner. From what the Derpster said, he's seen better days; the bubbly mare didn't elaborate much, so I'm left to draw baseless conclusions. Also, muffins. Might as well make my way there; maybe tonight I can get Turner to admit that he has a sonic screwdriver…

Now, Derpy's place is in the side of town where Earth-bound Pegasi live. I didn't think much of this before, but ponies segregate, like hard. Mind you, it's not nearly as bad as during America's Civil Right's Era; Unicorns and Earth ponies live side-by-side, no problem. I think the only difference with Pegasi is that, because they have the power of flight, they tend to dive/float/sweep/fly into their homes. Derpy's Loft is no exception: she has a perch for her to land on, a balcony or two for fellow Pegasi to roost on when she's entertaining, and all the windows on the second floor are shutter-less.

Mind you, because Derpy is coupled with an Earth pony, there's a (pony-sized) steps leading to the loft that allow Time Turner to get up there. (Little Dinky, Derpy's adopted sister, has unicorn magic to teleport in there and she just mastered that last week.) I have to climb up to her loft (thankfully, it can take my weight) and let me tell you, as an acrophobe, climbing is much difficult than you can imagine. I can barely manage a step ladder, let alone a staircase!

Huh? Who in the wide, wide world of sports is that?!

"Ah, then," crows an amber colored, grey maned Earth stallion, "I see you got My Beloved's message."

"Yea, verily," I answer, "yet, who, praytell, be you?"

"Come off it, Mr. Ambrose," the mystery stallion remarks, "you remember me!"

Come to think of it, he does look kinda familiar. That South London accent is kinda hard to place, but it's vaguely reminiscent of… No. Fucking. Way!

"Time Turner?"

"Ah, he does remember!" shouted Turner, "Splendid, splendid, I thought I was going to have to play twenty questions with you. It's good to see you, mate!"

"Great to see you, too," I reply, "but what the buck happened to you? Your mane is different and you look older."

"Ah, well, it's a bit complicated, I'm afraid." Turner says sheepishly.

"What, did your sonic screwdriver fail on you during a Dalek incursion or something?" I riposte.

"How did-" Turner starts, "That's- That's not important. What is, my boy, is that I have need to tell you something."

"Lay it on my, Doctor."

Turner gives me a searching look, then, "Regarding your, uh, performance the other day… Very unusual… Yes, very unusual… In all my travels, I've seen very few entities do what you have done."

"And?" I press.

"Ahem, well," Turner continues, "I must say, it's rather interesting that you have some magic in you."

"Are you gonna turn this into a Harry Potter reference? And should I be on the look out for a half giant on a Harley?"

"Half giant, eh?" Turner muses, "That would be- No, sorry, no Hogwarts for you. What I was saying is, I've seen what ponies can do with the sort of- abilities that you just recently acquired. Let me just say, you best know when to use your powers. The Proletariat never did know when enough was enough and given that you are- shall we say, more skilled and learned, then them doesn't mean you will avoid their misfortune."

"Hey! How do you know about the Proletariat?" I ask.

"Well, I was here when-" Turner starts, "Oh, sorry, I was about to go on a tangent… Anyway, you best learn from the folly of your ancestors. Those gene memories of the Terrans would serve you well if you pay heed to them."

"O-kay," I reply, "I'll, uh, I'll get right on that."

"Mister Steve!" cries a voice from within.

"Dinky!" I return.

A flash comes from inside the loft, and a pale violet unicorn filly emerges just besides Turner.

"Mister Steve! You came!"

I tell the little filly that I was invited for muffins and I never, NEVER turn down muffins.

"He-he!" Dinky giggles, "Mommy is making a fresh batch. They're a special surprise, so I can't tell you what they are!"

I lick my lips, which causes the Doctor to flinch but Dinky only giggles more, "I like surprises! Especially the delicious ones!"

"Come on, come on! Mommy's inside!" Dinky exclaims, "Coming, Uncle Doctor?"

"Ah, yes," Turner replies, smiling, "wouldn't miss it for the world!"

As Time Turner gets up to enter the house, I see a cylindrical object laying near where the Doctor once was. A very peculiar cylindrical object…

"Yo, Turner!" I call, "how are you gonna do any timey-wimey stuff without yer sonic scre-"

"That will be enough of that," Turner proclaims, snagging the highly sophisticated device from my hand, "you can poke somepony's eye out with that."

ALERT! ALERT! BREACH OF FOURTH WALL! BREACH OF FOURTH WALL! ALERT! ALERT!

*Tink! Tink! Tink!*

"Hello?"

*Tink! Tink! Tink!*

"Hellooo! I know you're in there!"

*Tink! Tink! Tink!*

"Hai there! My name is Pinkie Pie! Who are you?"

-Pinkie Pie blinks.-

"Hey, no need to by shy! I just wanna be friends!"

"So what's your name, huh?"

"Hello! Anypony in there? Hello, I'm talking to y-"

We're sorry for this breach of the fourth wall. The management team responsible for this fiasco has been sacked. Please continue to enjoy the rest of your day and we thank you for your patience.

29 911 Is a Joke (in My Town)

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Ah, them was good times! Muffins, great friends, lots of laughs, what could make a night better? Oh, God, the muffins Derpy wanted me to try! Double Fudge Almond muffins- so delicious! Derpy was gonna make another kinda of double fudge muffin, but somehow she managed to get some almonds in the mix. She's highly allergic to almonds, from what I saw. Her face was all puffy from the allergic reaction. (I can still hear Derpy through her swollen cheeks saying her signature line, "I just don't know what went wrong.") Huh, I didn't think equines had human allergies; shows what I know. Anyway, The Derpster, Dinky, Turner, and I had a gay ole time! Like I said before, lot's of laughs. Like all good things, it had to come to end. Derpy has work in the morning, Turner is going out of town for a little while (to fight some Cyberponies, I think!), and DInky has school in the morning. As much as I hate to admit, I was getting a tad drowsy myself, so I excused myself from further festivity with many apologies. I'm currently on the road to Sweet Apple Acres, on the way to my flat.

Huh, that's odd. The lights are on in my apartment. I coulda sworn I shut everything off. (Esmer here! Uh, I'm pretty sure I powered down all of your equipment, too, Boss. There shouldn't be anything on right now, not even a light bulb.) Thanks Esmer. I was more than certain that my house was locked up when I left earlier today. I know of only two ponies that have the key: Applejack and Fluttershy. I would suspect Rainbow Dash, but all of my doors and windows are triple reinforced with plexiglass after an amourous Dash successfully crashed into my bedroom, smashing a beautiful set of French doors I had just installed in the place. It can't be Ay Jay; I paid rent last week, down to the last bit, so she can't be waiting for me to turn up with the rent. So that could only mean Flutters.

My door is ajar. If Dash is inside, I'm gonna break her, hard. I'm sure she saw Flutters and I on Hearts and Hooves Day (she was sullen all that day afterwards) so there's no reason for her to be here. Unless she thinks I'm going to punish her like that time she was attempting to rut that Pegasus stallion the one time… Hmm, I smell liquor. It's definitely not the hard apple cider Ay Jay makes. I'm going in now… Now what is this? A bottle of- Luke Skywalker Whiskey? I want to groan at the obvious product placement here… Hey, that's crying. I hear crying. And it sounds like Fluttershy. It's coming from the bedroom- Whoa… Flutters is crying. It looks like she's been crying for hours now. I see another bottle of Skywalker Whiskey in her hooves. Has she been drinking? I didn't know she drank…

"Flutters?" I call.

The golden Pegasus hiccups and turns to me. Her eyes are bloodshot and filled to bursting with tears. My heartstrings, they be pulled.

"S-Stevie? *Hic!*"

"Yeah, it's me, Flutters." I answer, "What are you doing here? Have you been drinking all night?"

Another hiccup, and Flutters says, "Nooo, I haven't been *Hic!* drinking all night. Maybe most of the evening… *Hic!*"

"Flutters," My marefriend's behavior is starting to worry me, "what's wrong?"

Fluttershy doesn't immediately answer. She, instead, raises a bottle wielding hoof and belches loudly. Well, loudly for the softest spoken pony in Equestria, anyway.

"*Hic!* H-here's to Herman, a *Hic!* baby bhunny! "

The name strikes chord within me. The other day, Flutters was approached by a cluster of rabbits carrying a small litter. On the litter was a bunny, badly injured. According to Flutters, their herd was chased by a triad of manticores. The poor bunny, who Fluttershy started calling Herman, was caught in the first wave of the attack. I helped Flutters with the mending of broken bones and application of bandages. Even with Fluttershy's healing hooves and positive manner about his injuries, Baby Herman looked ready to shuffle off this mortal coil. That was a week ago. Flutters and her friends must have come back just this evening. Then that must mean…

"Oh, no, Flutters," I cried, "when?"

"Tuday," Flutters mumbles, "just *Hic!* before we got back."

"Oh, Flutters," I say, trying to sound consoling, "I'm so sorry."

"*HIC!* Her-*HIC!*- man!" Flutters cries. She breaks down a fresh wave of tears. I move to sit next to her on the bed and put two comforting arms around her neck; I nuzzle her forehead, trying to clear off the the waterworks with my own skin. This sad parody of Fluttershy breaks my heart. Couple that with her intoxicated state and I honestly don't think she'll get through this night alone.

There's a part of me right now that is burning savagely, fuming with rage. I want to hunt down these manticores and render them limb from limb. This side of me wants to tear out their hearts and rip out their spines. It wants to quench the thirst brought on by the brutality of it's actions by sucking on the the lifeblood of it's victim's hearts. The vengeance fantasy is so tantalizing, I actually consider doing it. Then the more rational part of me considers what would happen if I got killed chasing those things down. How would Ponyville react to the only known intelligent human getting mauled to death by those creatures? No, forget Ponyville, how would The Element Bearers hand it? No, worse, how would Fluttershy handle it? No, I'm not going to avenge Baby Bunny Herman. What I will do is comfort Fluttershy until she's sober and better able to handle this. Speaking of which, Fluttershy is- taking off my shirt?

"Uh, Flutters, what are you doing?"

She hiccups, and on doing so, her face takes an ugly shade of green; I hope to God she doesn't puke on my bed. Me, I won't mind as much, I think.

"I think that's pretty obvious," Flutters croons, "I wanna see you naked. I need your D, like now!"

"Are you sure, Fluttershy?" I query, "You're pretty wasted."

Another hiccup and the green hue on her face has turned an ugly pea green, "And you're pretty, for a hairless monkey."

"Hey!"

Then she topples on top of me. There's a lurid look in her eyes; Holy Christ, if Arr Dee was horny when she was drunk, then Flutter's is practically become a nymphomaniac under the influence of all that whiskey!

"Mount me, Big Boy!" she says, her voice lustful.

She rolls onto the bed, landing a little awkwardly on all fours, then presents her plot to me. I'm ashamed to admit this, but my penis went from totally limp to thoroughly erect witnessing that. I quickly strip out of my remaining clothes and settle up behind her. My member is quivering in anticipation. That rational side of me that offered counterarguments for avenging Herman was now wondering if I was taking advances on Fluttershy in her vulnerable and drunken state. Then the part of my brain that was all ego, all the time, said, "MOUNT THE BITCH!" I had some trouble refusing that part.

Even drunk, Flutters is silky smooth and wet. I have no trouble getting myself inside her. Her passage is throbbing, like always, but now there's seems to be no measure of self control. Her vaginal walls are pulsating so wildly around my erection, it's wonder I haven't cum yet. I start thrusting, and Fluttershy abandons and self control she has.

"Harder, Stevie!"

I comply, but with her hidden temple is fluctuating so wildly, I can harder thrust any harder without doing some kind of damage. The mare under me doesn't seem to care. Either because she's drunk, randy, or a combination of both, she's grinding her plot onto my junk. The sensation isn't unpleasant, but but would it kill her to issue a warning?

"Yes, yes, just like that, Stevie! Now, HARDER!"

I'm trying, oh am I trying! In this state, she's so tight… She'd make a vacuum envious, given how much her Kegel muscles are wrenching my crank. Given the duality of our action, I'm having some trouble keeping a good grip on Flutters…

"Grab my wings!" she demands.

Okay, that's a little weird…

"Now pull 'em!"

I do, not very hard. It's my understanding that a Pegasus' wings are very sensitive…

"HARDER!"

I pull, grabbing her pinions and whatever else I can hold onto with those feather appendages, I pull, no, just about yank on Fluttershy's wings. The effect was instantaneous; Flutter's body convulsed as she rode a wave of euphoria. Her love shaft convulsed as well, wringing my manhood to the point of rupture. I'm at the precipice, the point of no return; my release is imminent. I'm actually a little disappointed; we usually last a while. (Our record is twenty five minutes. When we finished, we were both so exhausted we promptly passed right out.) I don't think we've gone for five minutes, let alone ten. Fluttershy has never been this tight before…

Okay, this it. I can't go on; my testicles are bulging with essence. If I don't ejaculate now- I don't know what will happen, but it won't be pleasant. I yank again on Flutters wings. Her body convulses again, an explosive orgasm rushing through her body. As her love canal ripples against my shaft, I explode. I can feel my member twitch as spurt after spurt of semen spills deep inside of the mare beneath me. She is panting hard and her eyes are clearly unfocused. Either from the wonderful orgasms she just had or the drink, I rightly can't say. I'm still spurting, but Flutters is passing out. She's now spread eagle on the bed and my orgasm is still ongoing. I'm spewing spunk on her flanks, her back, into her tail and onto her dock. It would be highly erotic of Flutters were conscious.

I spurt for at least another five minutes. I can feel sleep trying to claim me, but I don't want to leave Flutters with cum sticking to her body. I'm going to get a wash cloth. I think I have a few laying in my linen closet. Yeah, here they are, pristine, clean, and smelling fresh. I did laundry this weekend and my towels are still fluffy. I'm not gonna bother with clothes right now; I mean, come on, it's the dead of the night! Who's gonna see me?

I need to hit the latrine, anyway; I gotta drain the lizard or I'll be awake most of the night. I guess that is one saving grace of my age: I still have a fairly functional prostate or else I would be voiding my bladder a few ounces at a time. When I get back, I'll clean up Flutters and hit the hay myself. Tomorrow's gonna be a hassle, I can tell.

From the daily journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Sixteen:

I'm writing this entry early, just so I can keep the recollection as tight as possible. I don't want to wake up Fluttershy, either; she's still passed out from last night. I hadn't expected Herman to die, but that's what he did yesterday evening. Fluttershy was understandably upset. What I can't fathom is Fluttershy intoxicated. And damn, was she plastered last night. En vino, veritas, "in wine, the truth." That was another surprising thing about last night: Flutters likes it rough. How was I to know? She's the most genteel pony I know! I'll save that discussion for another day. I really need to get a move on; I have a funeral to plan and invites to send out. I wonder if Pinkie Pie can arrange a wake?

Applejack is there to greet me when I head out for the mailbox. Judging but the bulging piles of letters in it, I can assume Ditzy has already been this way. Ay Jay is sorting through the mess. It's weird, though. She has a blush on her face that's at odds with her peachy coat. I wonder what she's thinking…

"Hey there!" Ay Jay calls out.

"Howdy!" I call back.

"Mail call," the farm pony says, "got a few letters here fer ya."

"Ah, good," I reply, "I kinda figured I'd get something."

"Say, Steve," Ay Jay starts, "you didn't happen to have enny- guests ov'r la' naght, didcha?"

"Actually," I answer, "Fluttershy was over. She was in a state; a bunny she was treating died last night."

"Aww," Ay Jay said, "that's a shame. Was she cryin'?"

I nod, "And drinking. She finished off nearly three bottles of some whiskey I've never heard of."

"Skywalker?" Ay Jay says.

"Howdja know?" I query.

"She keeps that stuff on hand for 'medicinal purposes.'" Ay Jay says, "Don't use all that much. From what Ah udn'rstand, she has a reserve of th' stuff, some fifty cases or so."

"That's a lot of liquor…" I comment.

Ay Jay nods, "I've never seen her drink 'fore. That must explain all the wailing she I he'rd las' night."

A flash of guilt crosses my mind before I reply, ""Yeah, she was really broken up."

"She okay?" Ay Jay inquires.

"Dunno," I answer, shrugging, "She passed out. She's probably gonna be hungover this morning."

"Well," Ay Jay says, "if she's really bad, you can try a hangover cure Granny Smith taught me."

"I'm all ears."

"She'll need to drink a bit of whiskey before ennythin'." Ay Jay informs me.

"Okay," I respond, "then what?"

"Then she's gonna need to eat. Hash browns and pancakes will do th' trick. Don't give her enny wat'r. Worse thing ya can do when yer hungover is drink wat'r."

"You know this from experience, don't you?"

"Eyup," Applejack confirmed, "works like a charm. Bett'r th'n a hooffull of aspirin and a three hour nap."

"I'll take your word for it," I say, then I notice something, "anything else you wanna say, Ay Jay?"

"W-what?" Applejack stammers before regaining her composure, "No, no, I'm good."

I nod and walk away. That was odd behavior for Ay Jay. I know she categorically unable to lie, but I don't think she was telling the whole truth. I should ponder this later. Flutters is gonna need me when she comes to. And, oh boy, is she gonna have the mother of all migraines! I don't have to have magic or psychic abilities to hear Flutters stirring about in pain. She's moaning loud enough for everypony to hear a hundred mile radius. I'm guessing somepony can't hold their liquor…

"My head," Flutters moans, "what happened last night?"

I hold back a chuckle as I inform her of last night's crazy.

"Oh, my!"

"Yeah," I confirm, "you were completely wasted. I didn't even know you liked it rough. If I had, I would have added some new tricks to my foreplay routine…"

"Please, Stevie, not so loud," Flutters requests, "I am so hungover."

"That's to be expected when you down two and three quarters bottles of whiskey." I explain, "speaking of life's happy poison, you're gonna need a shot of this."

I hand Flutters a shot glass of whiskey; she downs it in one. The wince on her face, while cute, is a reminder that she's not world class pubcrawler. The grimace on her face after the shot goes down tells me she was not looking forward to the cure.

"Egh! Yucky!" So cute…! "Why do my wings hurt?"

"Well, you did ask me to pull on 'em." I answer.

Her eyes go dinner plate wide, "Was I really that drunk?"

I nod, and she says, "Oh my! I hope you don't think too poorly of me…

I reply, "You were heartbroken and needed a shoulder to cry on. While my shoulder didn't get much use, at least I know you think of me when your world goes dark. Here, eat your breakfast."

Fluttershy munches on the pancakes, her eyes are half lidded. Eyup, alcohol induced migraine. I wonder if I have any painkillers left over…?

"I hope that I didn't make myself as big a putz as Rainbow Dash did." Flutters comments.

"Say what?" Okay, I'm in a panic!

"We had some time to kill while we were waiting for the train to Rainbow Falls. She told me about her- drunken escapade."

"She did, did she?" I did not just make with the nervous laugh.

Fluttershy nods, "She also told me about the late night romp she had with you. What do you have to say for yourself?"

That- fucking cunt! I sigh, letting out a mountain of tension. I hadn't known I was holding this in, but now that it's out in the open, I have no choice but to soften the blow.

"I regret everything."

Strangely, Flutters isn't teary, "There's a lot to you I don't know. But, seeing as we weren't together at the time, I have no problem forgiving you."

"Well, that's- very nice and mature of you, Fluttershy." I say, "but I'm not off the hook yet, am I?"

"No," Flutters affirms, "but it's not as bad as you think."

"Come again?"

"After Rainbow confessed to me what happened," Flutters answers, "I figured that it was a little selfish of me to keep a good stallion like you all to myself."

"I don't know if I'm liking where this is going."

"'To err is Pony, to forgive, Equine.' I think it's time I helped you form a herd."

"And what exactly does that mean?" I puzzle.

"I'm not sure if Twilight explained this to you," Fluttershy explains, "but ponies usually form herds around a single strong, virile stallion. In Equestrian society, it's actually expected. Do you know the number of stallions to mares in Equestria?"

"No," I confess, "enlighten me."

"Twenty-five mares for every stallion," Flutters says; I give a low whistle at that statistic, "in Ponyville, the numbers are greater, something like forty-two to one."

"Wha-?"

Flutters nods, "Mhmm. I don't think, in all honesty, that I should keep you to myself, when I have my friends to think of. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to see if any of my friends wouldn't-"

"I dunno, Flutters," I interrupt, "I have enough trouble keeping you, I don't know if I can manage a harem…"

"It's okay, Stevie," she assures, "you don't have to think about it now. It's just an idea. To be honest, I don't know if I want to share you. But it would be really unkind if I didn't make an attempt to spread the love… Sorry."

"You know, Flutters," I say, "I- I'm a little nervous about the prospect of dating more than one mare, but- if it will make you happy, I could give it a shot."

Ooof! Flutters is smothering me now! Oh, but her body is so warm… Her aroma is exhilarating…

"Hey, Flutters, before we start talking about herds and who among your friends you'd like me to hook up with, I have something I wanna try with you."

Flutters looks up from her nuzzling of my neck, "What did you have in mind?"

We both fall exhausted on the bed. My testicles are sore but at least they're empty and my more primal urges are tampered down for the now. Flutters is breathing heavily, a blissfull look on her face. Something tells me Dash never told her just what exactly she and I did that one night…

"Wow!" she breathes.

"Didn't think it was like that, huh?"

"No!" she giggles, "I'm going to sore for days! My dock is going to be swollen for hours…"

"You wanted to know what Dash and I did that night. Well, there you go!"

I take a quick glance at Fluttershy's plot. Her anus is still leaking seminal fluid. She took it like a champ, though.

"So, how did you like it?"

"It was great!" Flutters exclaims, "At first, it was a little weird. I mean, fudge comes out of that end. But once I relaxed, it was- It was-"

"Nice? Exciting?" I say.

"The hottest sex I've ever had!"

"Then we should do this more often."

Fluttershy nods. I can see a glint of naughty in her eyes. This is gonna be the best morning ever!

After sending Fluttershy back home with a promise of setting up a funeral for little Herman, I got in a shower, shaved, brushed my teeth and got dressed for the day. I don't normally wear all black, but today I felt like going for a Johnny Cash look. Applejack was the first on my list of attendees. She had chores for most of the day, but she agreed to stop by that evening. Next up was Rarity; she wasn't as receptive to a rabbit funeral, but when I pressed on about Fluttershy's already unstable emotional state, she relented. She said she would need to prepare some formal funeral attire. I left her to it. Pinkie was a little choked up about the news but was elated when I told I wanted her to set up the wake. She promised she would keep the whole affair somber but lively.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash were gathered in Golden Oak, so I didn't need to hunt down the two mares separately. Dash wasn't big on funerals, but said she would do a flyby for Fluttershy. Twilight was saddened by the loss and agreed to turn up. I explained she didn't need to be there in an official capacity and that seemed to relax her a little. Spike wasn't coming, Twilight told me, but she would see if he could whip some treats for the wake. Satisfied that I had a decent crowd for the funeral, I left Golden Oak en route to The Menagerie. No sooner did I step out the door did I get greeted by the pony I was hoping to avoid: Trixie.

"It is time you met your fate, Ape. So says the Great and Powerful TRIXIE!" the stage magician bellowed.

How does the axiom go? "What somebody doesn't know won't hurt them?" In this case, nothing could be further from the truth. I had learned from an incident with Dinky that a unicorn's magic (likewise alicorn magic, too) can be canceled out if you tap or grab their horn. I had practiced some speed maneuvers over the past few days and I had the upperhand over the spellcaster, not that she knew. Just a quick thought that I need to be the wind… Yeah, there we go! Time has slowed down for me, but time relative around me stays the same. I can now move ten times faster than I normally do.

"Prepare for my wra- Hey!"

Oh, God, this is funny! I have Trixie by the horn in my right hand. She's flaying with all four legs, as I got her three feet off the ground. Something tells me she wasn't ready for this.

"Let go of me this instant," Trixie commands, "the Great and Powerful Trixie commands you!"

"Yeah," I muse, "that ain't gonna happen." Then to Esmeralda, "Esmer, I need a quick 'port for two."

My fairy of an ancilla emerges in a flash of bluebell, hovering just over Trixie.

"Where to, Boss?" the construct asks.

I order, "Home base, and don't spare the neutrons!"

Esmer glows to a brilliant royal blue and says, "You got it, Boss! CON-TACT!"

A flash of white and the magician and I are at The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. CotRPS is as far away as I can be from Ponyville without leaving the valley it rests in. It makes the perfect stop for a one-on-one conversation with a madmare.

"Let go of me," Trixie demands again, "I command you to release me! And just where are we?"

I bring Trixie to my eye level, which is at least another foot and half higher than she was before. The fright in her eyes is almost worth the amount of energy I'm using to counteract her arcane energies.

"Let's step into my office." I say, and I march the two of us into the castle. Esmer is floating around Trixie's head; the spellcaster is mesmerized by my ancilla's miniature form.

"She's pretty, Boss," Esmer says as I make my way to High Command, "are you gonna mount her like you do Miss Fluttershy?"

"Perish the thought," I say, after looking at Trixie's horrified face, "she isn't deserving of so sweet a prize."

"Tell Trixie the little Breezie is kidding…" Trixie murmurs.

"Esmer doesn't lie," I tell the unicorn, "besides, all Twixie and I are gonna do is have a nice little chat."

"The name," she seethes, "Is Trixie, The-"

"Great and Powerful, ya, ya, I've heard that line before." I interrupt, "You couldn't come up with something more original?"

This gobsmacks the showmare; she stays that way until I have have us deep in the bowels of High Command. That's when she starts shaking, probably from fear.

"I'm gonna set you down now." I explain, "Don't try anything because it isn't gonna work. This the Terran Empire High Command Center; the place has a number of magic cancelling fields already in place. Your spells are gonna fail, no matter how much power you put behind them."

I set the unicorn and sure enough, she does try something as soon as my back is turned. The surprised squeak she gives off when her spell backfires is, in it's own way, highly satisfying to hear.

"Told ya," I say.

Trixie grunts audibly as she rises to her hooves, "So you did."

"Are we calm now?" I question, "Or do I need to hit you with that beam again?"

"The paralysis magic?" Trixie asks, an edge of fear in her voice.

I nod, "The calmer you are, the less likely I have to resort to that. So, let me ask again, are we calm now?"

Trixie nods.

"Good," I exclaim, "excellent. That'll make this whole conversation that much smoother."

I pace around the spellcaster while she tries to keep me in her view. Esmer isn't helping her; the ancilla is flitting about her horn and hides in her mane when Trixie tries to swat at her.

"So what am I gonna do with you?" I inquire.

"Whatever do you mean?" Trixie replies.

"I mean, how do I get you off my back?" I answer, "I know that calling you out like that was probably not the wisest move in the Universe, but I tell it like it is. And when I see a pompous ass, I call 'em on it."

"Are you saying that the Great and Po-" Trixie starts, but I cut her off, "Yes, I am. Especially that third person speak. You sound arrogant and conceited like that! A real, fucking asshole. Talk like a real pony for once!"

"Why does the Greatest and Powerfullest Trixie need to change for you, Ape?"

"Because, you're not doing yourself any favors with the 'holier than thou' attitude. Also, I am not an ape. I'm a human, my name is Steven; get it right!"

"Hooman?" Trixie asks.

I could facepalm; it takes everything I have to stop myself from doing so.

"How many friends do you have, Trixie?"

"Friends?" the showmare asks, puzzled, "The Great and Powerful Trixie has no need of friends."

"And were you planning on facing Twilight once more?"

"Uh," Trixie looks uncertain of how to answer, "the thought had crossed The Great and Powerful Trixie's mind."

"Don't," I warn, "you're gonna lose."

"What?!" the showmare exclaims, "What do you mean?! How can the Great-?"

"You're gonna lose," I interrupt, "because the magic that Princess Twilight Sparkle wields is greater than any spell, glamour, enchantment, bewitchment, curse, or jinx you can muster. You're efforts are futile compared to such."

"P-Princess Twilight?" Trixie stammers.

"Didn't know that, did ya?"

"N-no! W-when?" Trixie inquires.

"Sometime last year," I answer, "I haven't been here long enough to know exactly when, but it was fairly recently."

"She's an alicorn…"

I nod, "And I bet she now has magic the likes of which you can't even touch. Which begs the question, why hold the grudge in the first place?"

"Y-you wouldn't understand," the showmare says, "you're so much like her…"

"Try me," I challenge. I can't help but feel a little insulted by those words, but I pass it off.

Trixie sniffles, apparently crestfallen that her plans were ruined.

"Did you know I once attended Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns?" Trixie begins, "Yes, I was there. I was in the same year as Twilight. Oh, how her legend pervaded the place! 'The most gifted unicorn in a generation!' some said. 'The most powerful unicorn in Equestria," others said. I genuinely became jealous of her… Everything came so easily for her. She was protegé to the Princess, she got top honors in everything, so many achievements, some compared her to Starswirl the Bearded. Meanwhile, I toiled, and struggled with even the most rudimentary of magic spells."

"The green eyed monster," added, "the destruction of some of the most promising of people."

"Ponies," Trixie corrected.

"Right, ponies," I said, "please, continue."

"Right," Trixie sighed, "I could never compare to Twilight. So, one day, at least a year before I graduated, I decided to leave. The Princess… Did you know she tried to dissuade me from my path? She didn't succeed, but she did wish me luck as I left. I'd spend the next few years wandering Equestria, learning everything I could, mastering all manner of spells. I also spent the bulk of my time becoming a showmare. It was good money, and the crowds, they just loved me!

"The act I put on was quite successful. I got to truly believe in my moniker, 'The Great and Powerful.' Did I believe that hubris would be my undoing? No, Trixie did not. So when I rolled into Ponyville that fateful day, I would receive the biggest shock seeing my foalhood rival standing in the crowd. This was to be my moment, when Trixie outshined Celestia's star pupil…! But I failed. She was more powerful, more ingenious… I fled with my tail between my legs… The only thought that kept me going when I failed so miserably, was that I when I came back to Ponyville, I would be more powerful than Twilight ever could be!"

"But that didn't work, either," I add, "Applejack told me she was able to defeat you with some simple parlor trick illusions. Managed to get that amulet off of you doing so."

"Trixie does not contend with those facts," the spellcaster laments, "I failed, again! This time, I was hoping to engage in one last duel, maybe bury the hatchet once and for all. Preferably in Twilight's skull… She's a princess now, though… She could have me banished. Or imprisoned. Or banished and thrown into prison where I'm banished…!"

*SLAP!*

"Pull yourself together, pony!" I roar. Trixie looks a little beside herself until her mind is clear again and the panic subsides.

"Trixie apologizes…"

"What did I say about the third person stuff?" I growl.

"I'm sorry!"

"Better," I say, "Now look, I get that you're feeling a little underachieved by Twilight, also a little envious. I used to be that way around my sister. She was my mother's favorite and she could do absolutely no wrong. It's a wonder I didn't develop an inferiority or Napoleon complex because of it. But, I figured something out. My sister, as perfect as she seemed, as easily as most things came to her, she was crumbling apart. Keeping that level of perfection can take a toll on people- ponies, whatever! It's no small wonder she attempted to hang herself her senior year of college…"

Trixie gasps. I don't think I've ever told anyone or anypony that before.

Trixie asks, "Did she-?"

I shake my head, "She lived. But her throat was fucked up beyond any recognition. To this day, she can't sing. She used to have such a lovely singing voice…"

"Do you think the same could happen with Twilight?" Trixie asks, not even attempting to hide her giddiness at the idea.

"Nah," I declaim, "Twilight is more put together than anyone I know. She is- well prepared for the task of being part of the nobility."

Trixie shrinks back, a sad grimace on her muzzle.

"I also know, from having spent quite some time with her, that nothing ever came so easily. She worked very hard for everything she got. She dedicated herself to self-improvement, has suffered more than her fair share of panic attacks and setbacks; she is still very much worried that she'll never make the cut."

"She does?" Trixie says.

I nod, "In a lot of ways, she's a lot like you. The only difference: she realized she can't do everything on her own. And she has wonderful friends to back her up. That's why she bore the Element of Magic: she's the cornerstone of one of the greatest friendships I have ever known. You could be, too, if you put your pride aside and except a hand, or hoof, in friendship."

"Y-you really- think so?" Trixie sniffles.

I nod, "But don't ever tell Sparklebutt I said that. I'd never live it down."

Trixie giggles at the thought, then asks, "Would she- Do you think she would- want to be friends with me?"

I nod in affirmation one more time, "I'm thinking there's a lot the two of you could learn from each other."

"Okay," Trixie says after a long silence, "I'll- I'll try."

"Good," I reply, "'cause I'd hate to have to kick your butt up and down Mane Street because you're disturbing the peace. Not in my town, Missy, ya hear?!"

Trixie giggles and nods. There we go, Mischief Managed.

"Emser, we're done here."

"Back to town, Boss?" my ancilla inquires.

"Actually," I muse, locking at the HUD of my Neural Interface, "time is running out. Esmeralda, two for warp zone to Flutterhsy's cottage. Double Time!"

"Already on it, Boss!"

Bang Bang!

It was a lovely little ceremony. All of Flutter's friends were there; although I would have liked to have seen Trixie more present. She did make an effort to speak civilly with Twilight. From the hug she gave her "rival," I can only assume that Twilight is ready to forgive and forget. After the funeral (I was the lone pallbearer for the little bundle of fluff), we left for SSC. Pinkie had a wonderful wake planned. As promised, it was respectful, somber, but very enjoyable. Pinks even left her party cannon in her loft. Even for such a sad event, it was easily the most enjoyable wake I've ever been to. I don't know how Pinkie did it, but she got Vinyl Scratch to spin some tunes for us, especially this cute little number that truly livened up the scene.

Afterwards, everyone went home. Trixie was invited to stay at Golden Oak by Twilight. I thought she'd refuse, but she accepted the invitation. I just hope the showmare doesn't try something. I decided to accompany Fluttershy back to her cottage. Her melancholy returned with a vengeance during the funeral, so I wanted to be sure that she wasn't gonna drink herself blind, again. When we reached her cottage, she threw open the door and practically assaulted me. Not that I'd complain; she was suddenly randy like a motherfucker and I was more than happy to oblige. Our love making session this morning just wasn't enough for her!

"Hey, Stevie," Flutters coos, "what do you say we include Rainbow Dash one of these days?"

"You kinky minx," I comment, "bad enough I trouble pleasing one mare, now you want me to please two?"

"I thought you'd like the challenge."

"Hmm," I begin, "Let's leave that as an open action item, to reviewed at a later date. Right now, I want to be in the throes of ecstasy with you."

Flutters doesn't have to be asked twice…

30 ¤ 238,460 Miles ¤

View Online

Report from Terran Imperial Expedition Fleet Compatriot, Captain Jacob Stewart, cmnd. of Terran Stellar Vehicle Stalwart, Stellar Navy Registry, Alpha One Two

Stardate U04112127.02†,
It's been one year since we shoved off from Terra Firme. At the suggestion of the Equestrian Royals, and from no small amount of prodding from the Imperial Archmage, we set off with twelve of our fleetest and most advanced ships to Terra Firma. In the days of the old Terran Empire, such a feat would have take ten years, Firme time or about 1,000 years Firma. We've made incredible strides since those earlier explorations. While the Terran Empire was only capable of .97 of light speed, we are now currently capable of C2 in speed.
Our journey was not without incident. Midway to our target destination, we encountered a rather jarring cosmic phenomenon: a quasar. Our instrumentation failed us when we passed too close and artificial gravity went offline until we were able to refire thrusters away from the star. There were some injuries, namely contusions and a few concussions, but nothing all that serious. Our course did need adjusting after we we flew through a highly ionised nebula in another quadrant, but afterwards, it was smooth sailing, so to speak.
That said, we are now parked on the dark side of Terra Firma's moon. We are awaiting official orders from The Matron herself to break cover and head for high Earth orbit. The Compatriot Fleet consists of one carrier (the Aegis), three destroyers (the Anvil, Hammer, and Chisel), four corvettes (the Joyeuse, Durendal, Excalibur, and Curtana), two cruisers (the Steadfast and the Goodspeed), a battleship (the Leonidas), and the Stalwart (Wayfarer Class). Our intention is not to sow hostile intent, but to demonstrate the power of the Empire. For the task of bringing Terra Firma into the Terran Imperial fold, all but the Stalwart and the Aegis will be hanging back.
Our mission profile, per se, is to announce the reformation of the Terran Empire to Last Chance, including negotiations/discussions with world leaders, establish diplomatic ties with the nations of Earth, and invite it's denizens to Terra Firme. According to scans made when we entered the system, Terra Firme still uses internal combustion engines, still has a pollution count significantly higher than is healthy long term, and currently has a populace of well over eleven billion humans. It is our hope that we can convince many from the planet to join us in establishing colonies not only on Terra Firme, but other Imperial colony worlds. (Preferably some of the worlds like Threshold around Alpha Centauri.)
All ships are present and accounted for; personnel are in fine condition and morale is high. We presently are making preparations for Primary Contact. To the glory and majesty of the Empire!
Capt. J. Stewart, cmdr.: T.S.V. Stalwart.

"Captain on the Bridge!"

"As you were," announces Captain Stewart to his crew, "Helm, what's our status?"

"Still parked, sir," Lieutenant, Junior Grade Emiko Nazawa explains, "sensors show we are still undetected. Our surveillance of the planet goes on unhindered, sir."

"Excellent," Capt. Stewart says, "Ops, are we green?"

Lieutenant Commander Tatiana Sokolev answers, "Captain, Engineering reports that all primary systems are go. We have full capacity on all engines and our reserve fuel is at full capacity."

"Best news this morning," Capt. Stewart remarks, "Tactical, report."

Lieutenant Silver Star replies, "We have a full compliment of proton torpedoes and concussion missiles, plasma beam emitter banks are at full capacity and on standby, all Albatross dropships are fully fueled and powered, and our particle/ray deflector shields are at maximum."

"Perfect," the good captain says, "now all we need is word from on high…"

At the moment, the aft starboard side hatch opens.

"Archmage on the deck!" bellows the Sergeant-at-Arms.

"At ease," the House of Endymion Elder states, "Captain, how goes your war?"

"It goes well, Archmage," the captain replies, "getting a little restless, though. I don't know about you, Mr. Ambrose, but I'd like to get this done and over with. The sooner, the better."

Steven Ambrose nods, "Same here. It's Matron Williams who has the issue. She seems to be in the midst of writers block. I keep telling her I can do all the talking but she insists. I wonder if I was ever that stubborn at sixteen…"

"Weren't we all," Capt. Stewart says, "by the by, Doctor Lulamoon was looking for you."

"Oh?" remarks the Archmage, "did the mare say why for?"

The captain shakes his head, shrugging, "Not a clue. She's been a huff since first light. Maybe she hasn't had her coffee this morning or maybe she's just on the rag…"

Both the Helm and Ops officers give the captain a stern look. The Archmage isn't looking to pleased, either.

"Captain," Steven starts, "it isn't in my purview to tell you how to do your job. I do have the prerogative to remind you that such sexist statements are unbecoming an Imperial Naval Officer. Also, Trixie has already been through her estrus. That was nine weeks ago. And as far as I know, Equestrians mares don't premenstrual syndrome like human woman do. No offense, Officers."

"None taken," Lt. Nazawa says. Lt. Cmdr. Sokolev replies in her native Russian, "Tam net obid , kotoryye budut imet'sya."

The Archmage nods, "Well, I see nothing that should cause me concern. Captain, you're doing an excellent job, despite some rather revealing male chauvinism. Keep up the good work. Please alert me or The Matron if anything in our status changes."

"Of course, Archmage," the captain replies, "goddesses be willing, I won't have to."

"Blessed be," the Archmage adds, "well, I better go tend to some personal business. Good day, ya'll."

Steven Ambrose sweeps from the bridge, receiving nods of acknowledgement from the bridge staff as he leaves. He enters into the port side lift and is gone.

Meghan Williams is sitting at a desk in her palatial quarters aboard the Stalwart. For the last seventy-six hours, she has poured over a speech that she intends to use for her introduction to the people of her former home world. In those seventy-six hours, she has managed to write six paragraphs. Six very short paragraphs, consisting of no less then four sentences apiece. She knew when she took on the title of Matron of the Empire, she would need to make a number of public appearances; public appearances required some public speaking skills. She lacked, according to her perception, the graces of a true leader and thus was more than aggravated that her attempts to write a halfway decent speech were coming to naught.

It didn't help that only other member of the High Council she could rely on, The Imperial Archmage Steven Ambrose, she didn't completely trust yet. She would have gone to her step brother, General Daniel "Danny" McAllister, twenty, but he was no great shakes at public speaking, either. She had considered consulting her half sister, Grand Sage Molly McAllister, for advice on speech writing. Molly is a genius; her I.Q. is over 186 and she uses hundred dollar words so easily. And she's only eleven years old. Meghan's pride got in the way, though… None of the others in the Council has the sort of resumé she required now. She also didn't want to admit to the Archmage, a rather comfortable orator by her estimation, that her skill in public relations was rather wanting. Her missives on such a dubious task were interrupted by a shrill melody; someone was ringing her doorbell.

"Who is it?" The Maiden Matron asked.

"It's me," came a tenor voice with a an Irish lilt from beyond the door, "can I come in, sis?"

"Door's open," Meghan responded.

The entrance hissed open, a la Star Trek, and walked in a lanky young man with a carrot top head. His right arm was covered in a matte silver finish; it was the arm he lost whilst in trapped in the Griffon Kingdom.

"Having a wee bother over yer speech?" the young man inquired.

"'Wee bother' doesn't begin to cover it," Meghan answered, "I'm totally stumped. Thank the Goddess that you don't have to write speeches, General Danny."

A smug grin grew on Danny's face, "Aye, 'tis not in me job description, is it? Mine's is ta bust sum heads, ennit?"

Meghan nods, "That it is. Life must be so simple for House Praetorian…"

"Aye, it can be," Danny affirms, "until some crisis or 'nother comes callin'."

Sighing, Meghan looks at her step brother a moment, worry etching itself into her face, "What am I gonna do, Danny? We're supposed to go live in a few hours. I can't even string six sentences together for a decent paragraph, not to mention a ten minute speech!"

"I was a-wonderin' why we was parked up here fer so long," Danny muses, "why not let the Archmage help? He's almost as good as wee Molly, maybe better, with the words."

"Right," Meghan growls, "like I'd let that House of Endymion tell me what to say! I'd rather catch a UTI."

"Ew, gross!" declares a voice from the doorway.

"Molly?" both siblings ask.

"Right-o!" the First Sage answers, "I came down to see if'n you wanted a kipper. Bonbon has some tasty sweets all cooked up and she asked me to come down an' see if you wanted enny?"

"Bonbon made sweets?!" Meghan exclaimed, "why am I the last to know anything?! Come on, before she runs out!"

Bulkhead Two, Bow Twelve marks the location of the Ship's Lounge. It isn't always in that location, but for the Stalwart, that is its precise location. The Earth pony Bonbon is hard at work in the bakery, making confections of all kinds for the pleasure of the crew. Next to Berryshine's Pub, which is in the same space, it's the most popular spot aboard ship. It's not even nine hundred hours, and already a sizable crowd has amassed for some of her sweets. The only other baker on board is Applejack, but she is- indisposed of for the foreseeable future.

The Archmage was already there, having dropped by his quarters to check on his wife. She was still a little tired (to be expected after only given birth two days ago) but she was in good spirits. He promised to check back in later, once the hoopla of Primary Contact was over with. Which, if current estimates are to be believed, will be in eight hours. That is pending whether or not Matron Williams has her head back in the game. Steven can't seem to shake her belief that he was poised to take over the Empire. I have power, Steven mused, and I don't want more. The dumb girl is paranoid…

"Oh, Steve, there you are!" came a young female voice.

The Archmage scanned the human crowd before reminding himself that there was more than humans here. Looking down, starboard, and slightly aft, his eyes fall upon the visage of an violet alicorn trotting cheerfully through the crowd. Twilight Sparkle is wearing a wide smile on her muzzle as well the Crown of Harmony on her head. Riding on her back is her assistant, and adopted brother, Spike, although given his current age now, it won't be too long before Twilight will be riding his back.

"Bro," Spike says, lifting a clawed talon in the air.

Steve matches his gesture with a fist and bumps the proffered appendage. The pair shared a smile; it had been too long since they had done that.

"Morning, Spike; morning, Sparklebutt!" The Archmage said.

Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes marred Twilight's face, while Spike staved off the uproarious laugh he had with a taon over his snout.

The Princess of Friendship growled, "If I've told once, I've told you twenty thousand times: my name is not Sparklebutt!"

"Oh come on, Twilight," Steve exclaimed, "you know I'm just yanking yer chain!"

Twilight responded with a "hmph," while Spike slid of his adopted sister's back. His smile was threatening to break his face; he was still holding in a chortle against his talon.

"So," Steve began, "what brings The Princess of Friendship and her adjunct drake down to Second-Twelve? A little early for lunch, aren't you?"

"Actually," Twilight begins, "we were looking for you. Matron Williams told me that Primary Contact is scheduled for 1600 hours. I was wondering what was taking so long; I've had my speech written one month into the journey. I know Princess Luna had hers written as soon as we were out of system."

"Ah, I getcha," the Archmage says, "blame Meghan. She wanted to write her own speech for Pee-See, but is overcome with writers block. It maybe the most important announcement in the entire galaxy, but she's making it sound like her entire life is dependant on this one speech. Frankly, it's annoying, her insistence that she can do this on her own. It's a pride thing, I'm sure; First Sage McAllister could've written for her but the girl is too stubborn to ask for help."

"Boy, why does that sound familiar?" Twilight muses.

"Comes with the territory," Steve remarks, "she's from Colorado. The state is supposed to be known for independence and stubbornness. Wouldn't really know; I grew up in Texas."

Twilight doesn't respond to this; her attention is drawn to a group of new arrivals entering the Lounge. A troupe of three humans and a single unicorn mare arrived. The humans in the crowd parted for the young woman leading the troupe; many heads bowed as Matron Meghan Williams marched forward to Bonbon's Bakery Basket.

"Ah, Archmage," The Maiden Matron said, "it's good to see you this morning."

"Likewise, Matron," Steve replied, "although, I didn't know the Quorum was having an impromptu. First Sage, General, how fare you?"

"I'm well," answered Danny McAllister while his sister, Molly, merely smiled sheepishly. (It's a known fact that Molly harbors a minor crush on the Archmage, although it's not known if it's for his body or his intelligence.)

"Matron Williams," Twilight says, "I didn't expect to see you here, either."

"Twilight!" Meghan beams, "It's good to see you! Wearing your crown again, I see."

Twilight nods, even as Spike and Steve stifle giggle fits, "Luna insisted. I'm not a pony to wear much in terms of regalia, but on this point I can't really refused. By the way, Steve, you really need to see your wife. She frets something awful."

"I knew I was forgetting something," the Archmage wonders, "I guess that happens when you have a herd of mares."

Twilight gives him a death glare until Steve clarifies, "I just mean, between all the preparation between Primary Contact and the various meetings that will take place afterward, I haven't been able to get my head straight. I love all my girls; I wouldn't be married to them I didn't. I am not Lone Star."

"Nice recovery, bro," Spike needles.

"Anyway," Meghan says, changing the subject from awkward romanticism, "something smells good. What is that mare making, anyway?"

Twilight and Spike sniff the air before Twilight declares, "Mmm, gingerbread…"

"Gingerbread…" continues the Archmage, "and chocolate!"

The Matron and The Grand Sage eyes grow wide with anticipation; the General is stoic, like he always is.

"I expected more," Danny says, "given Ms. Bonbon's reputation as a confectioner, I was hopin' for somethin' else."

"Wait, Danny," Steve interjects, "you mean to tell me you've never had some of Bonnie Lass' sweets?!"

"No," Danny states, pushing up his glasses with his thumb and pointer finger, "I h'ven't."

Steve stares at his compatriot for a moment and then says, "What's wrong with you, boy?"

Danny glares at the Archmage, neither with contempt nor curiosity, but simply stares.

"I donna believe there be anything wrong wit' me. I donna normally abode by Equine food."

"Danny, Danny, Danny," Steve chides, "You have not eaten until you've had something from Bonbon. Trust me, her baked goods and candies are several orders of magnitude better than anything the Replicators can make. They are to die for!"

"Even so-" Danny begins, but Steve cuts him off, "'Even so,' nothing! You have to have some Bonbon goodness. Hey, Bonnie Lass! You got any caramel apples for my boy here?"

A beige coated mare with a pink-on-blue-mane emerges from the kiosk of her bakery, holding in her hooves three of the named treat, "With or without cinnamon, Steve?"

"With!" the Archmage confirms.

"Comin' atcha!" replied Bonbon, as the crowd parted for the mare.

On her back was a tray of caramelized apples. Tiny sprinkles of cinnamon sparkle in the goldenrod sauce each fruit is emblazoned with. Danny's eyes, while still disbelieving, did betray a small degree of hope. When Bonbon stops in front of the Archmage, the four humans look to the confectioner. Twilight and the the unicorn mare share a brief nod and smile upon the scene.

"There ya go, Danny Boy. Fresh from the oven: one caramel apple, from the hooves of Bonbon."

"Resistance, as it was said once, is futile," says the unicorn mare, whose bright yellow coat and flaming tongue mane seem to shimmer even in the artificial light of the ship, "my fianceé can be quite persuasive."

"Thanks, Shimmy," the Archmage says, "so, Danny, you gonna try one?"

The Imperial General-of-the-Armies gives Steve a hardened look, but nods anyway, "You won't give up til I try one, anyways."

"Eyup," Steve says, "besides, you owe me one."

Now the hardened look is replaced by one of incredulousness, "What chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

Steve points to the General's arm, the one with the metallic sheen.

"… I hate you." Danny says, then takes the proffered treat. He looks at at the apple from several angles, deciding where best to bite. The he opens his mouth wide and sinks his teeth into the confection.

Sunset Shimmer tries her best to suppress the anxious shiver she has; even after knowing Steven for so long, she still can't get over the look of a human eating. Meanwhile, Meghan Williams and her half sister Molly McAllister are watching their brother in anticipation. The twenty year old man chews on the candy apple with absolutely no change is in his hardened expression. Until he swallows the piece he bit off, he remains expressionless; afterward, his face softens, if but a little.

"Hmm, not bad." Danny says.

"Wow. Is that all?" the Archmage goads.

"Trust me, Steven," Meghan says, "this is about as much as you're gonna get out of him."

"So noted," the Archmage says, "you gotta admit though, Danny, that was better than you imagined it to be."

The Imperial General nods, "I was expecting something less than palatable. My assumptions are proven invalid."

"Speaking of assumptions," Twilight adds, "Primary Contact is happening today, right?"

Meghan gives her Equestrian counterpart a nod, "I don't know how well it will go down, but Phase One should be an eye opener."

When Twilight gives the Imperial Matron a confused look, she has to add the explanation, "Phase One: Pardon The Interruption? You do remember that one, don't you, Princess?"

"Oh, yes," Twilight interjects, "the global broadcast! I didn't know if that was still in play."

"It's very much in play," adds Steven, "we just tweaked it a bit. We're going for a universal message in all of Terra Firma's major languages. The West is getting English, Spanish, French, and Portuguese. The East is getting those as well as Farsi, Arabic, Swahili, Mandarin as well as Cantonese Chinese, and Japanese. Places like India are getting the Message in Hindi Proper, not any of the minor dialects. By the way, Shimmer, did you ever get that interpreter spell to work for ya?"

"Yes, I did," replies Sunset Shimmer, "I did have some troubles with the Asian languages, but I've adapted enough of them to be at least ninety percent accurate."

"B'tt'r'n anticipated," Molly adds, "just how many dialects were ya able to interpret, Sunny?"

Shimmer thinks for a moment, then says, "Roughly one thousand, though I'm sure there a few I may have missed."

"Wow, Shimmer," Twilight coos, "that's amazing!"

Shimmer blushes a little, as her eyes drift to the Archmage's face, "Well, I did have a little help."

The Archmage winks, while The Grand Sage and the Princess of Friendship look on confused.

Molly asks, "What're you two goin' on about?"

"It's grown up stuff, Molls," answers Meghan, while Steve adds, "unless you want a lecture, I suggest keepin' your nose out of it."

"But-" Molly protests before her brother steps in, "maybe a little later, Molls. This stuff is- sensitive in nature."

"I'm not a wee bairn, Danny."

"You're right," Meghan says, "but neither Danny or I are well versed in this arena. You could ask Mom or George, but I bet their reaction will be mortification."

Molly huffs, "Fine! Can we just got some sweets and get on with it? The longer the delay, the more irritating this all becomes."

There are several nods amongst the group. Molly still looks annoyed, but at least she isn't complaining anymore.

For anyone watching prime time television at eight o'clock, Eastern Standard Time, their normal programming may have seem a bit- odd. The message above, in gold lettering, as well as the Beastie Boys "Intergalactic" playing in the background, was all there was too see. It wasn't just TV watchers getting this treatment; all visual media was getting the same. The Internet also seemed broke; all websites showed the same black frame with a coursing gold trim on it. Numerous security officials believed it was a hacking breach on a global scale after reports of the same image arose from out of Europe and Asia. Australia and the more industrialized parts of Africa were reporting the same. The black frame stayed in place for several minutes until 8:15, EST, when the screen changed.

The world simply stopped. Confirmation of intelligent life outside their solar system caused the entire planet to pause. A moment passed, then two. Within a minute of the broadcasts end, the world powers were on the phones, making the most vital call they would ever make.

A harried man, overweight, balding, and wearing a fraying corduroy suit said, "SETI satellites detected movement just beyond the moon. Two large objects, closing in on Earth. They're emitting both radio and microwave signals on all bands. They aren't disrupting communications like last night, but they are giving the NSA a massive headache with intercept duties."

The President of the United States took this in while nursing her coffee. The idea that under her historic administration, she would be witness to another historic event was unfathomable. The point was self-evident, though; she and about 450,000,000 Americans saw the same broadcast. The newspapers littering her breakfast table were splashed with headlines about aliens, first contact, numerous references to The Day the Earth Stood Still and War of the Worlds. On any other day, this would have been humorous. Now, it was a matter of national, if not global, security.

"Other than that stunt from last night, what else do we know about this 'Terran Empire?'" the President asked.

"Not much, I'm afraid," said her national security advisor, "beyond the fact they are capable of interstellar flight, it's presumed they have faster than light capability…"

"Presumed, Mr. Foster?" the President mused, "I think it's a foregone conclusion that they have FTL capacity. What else can we presume?"

"Not much," confirmed Secretary David Coryn, "all our scanning equipment is useless on their hulls; their ships are made of an alloy that absorbs all radar and lidar sweeps. Ground based telescopes are able to get a clean look at them, but the ships are bigger than anything we can ever conceive of making."

"What about the transmissions?" the President asks, "Just what exactly are they saying in those broadcasts?"

"That's the interesting part, Madam President," answers Admiral Michelle Howard, "the message is an invitation to meet the Terran Imperial leadership. There's also instructions on how to contact them. It's actually very eery."

The President looks uncertain when she inquires, "How so, Madam Chairwoman?"

"The communique said to just-" it's here the Chairwoman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff hesitates, "'tell the wind the date and time.' The implications are rather incriminating."

Secretary Coryn chimes, "They're listening in to our conversations?! Admiral, how quick can we get our forces to DEFCON two?"

"DEFCON Two?!" exclaims Adm. Howard, "Have you lost it, Coryn? I know you're dad was Grade A crazy, but this is nutso on a whole other level!"

"Ladies and gentleman," the President chides, "we are supposed to be adults here. Petty squabbles can wait until end of business day!"

"Sorry, Madam President." both combatants sigh.

"Now, who here can tell me anything definitive about our guests?" the President asked again.

"They say they don't wish to harm us." answers the Security of Interior, Adam Postlewaite.

"That was what the message from last night said," countered the President, "how do we know that."

"It's confirmed by the Empire itself," replied Sect. Postlewaite, "in the transmission bursts, they claim to have numerous combat ready vessels on the dark side of the moon, but the only ships coming out to greet us are their exploration vessel and their lone carrier."

"Well then," the President scoffs, "why don't they just come down now? It's not like the whole world can't seem them from orbit."

"Don't mind if we do, Madam President," comes a young female voice, "by the way, the name is Meghan Williams, Matron of the Empire."

The President and her staff all turn to the other end of the Oval Office to see a quartet humans dressed in Raygun Gothic attire and something resembling a horse. The humans include a young girl clutching a staff, a slighter older girl wearing a tiara, a young man bearing a scabbarded sword, and another man, slightly shorter than his younger counterpart, who holds a quartz embedded stave. The small pony-like entity wears gleaming silver glaives on its fetlocks, a bright silver collar with a six point star on it, and a crown wrung in platinum bearing a similar star; it stands amongst them with a keen interest in it's nearly human visage.

A beat, then the younger girl asks with an Irish brogue, "Do ya think we broke 'em?"

"Nah," replies the Matron, a Midwestern accent in her voice, "they're just stunned to see us here."

The oldest of the quartet says, a Texas drawl lilting in, "Maybe we should set down. Let 'em know our intent ain't hostile."

"Agreed," says the younger man whose Irish tenor is a match for the younger women in the group, "'specially seein' as we missed th' red carpet."

"Our apologies, Matron," said Madam President, as she and her staff bow, "we didn't think you'd arrive so- suddenly."

Ms. Williams giggles lightly, "You don't have to do that, Madam President. We are equals here, after all."

"W-well," the President responds, "I guess that introductions are in order. I'm President Wendy Davis," She then points to her left, this is my chief of staff, Linda Killian," then to her right, "this is Secretary of State, David Coryn, and to his right is Admiral Michelle Howard," motioning to the man on the far right, "this is the Secretary of the Interior, Adam Postlewaite," then to balding man in the opposite corner, and my national security adviser, Lewis Foster."

"Thank you, Madam President," says the young Matron, "as I said before, I'm Meghan Williams, Matron of the Empire," then pointing the young man beside her, "this is my step-brother and Imperial General-of-the-Armies, Danny McAllister," pointing to the young woman adjacent, Matron Williams says, "my half sister and First Sage of the Empire, Molly McAllister, and lastly," pointing to the man with the stave across his lap sitting directly in front of her, "the old guy-" "HEY!" "is Steven Ambrose, Archmage of the Empire."

"By the way," the Archmage adds, "the critter that came with us is one of the entities that shares our homeworld. Twilight, do you wanna introduce yourself?"

"Certainly," the pony being said, surprising the other humans in the room, "My name is Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic, former protegé to Princess Celestia, from the Kingdom of Equestria. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

After the initial shock wore off, there were several hellos and other greetings made and then all parties sat down. President Davis asked her guests if there was anything they wanted to eat or drink. The McAllisters asked for tea and biscuits, Matron Williams declined any refreshments, but Archmage Ambrose did want two cans of Monster® and some Oreos®. While a page was off to acquire refreshments for the two groups, the two leaders began to talk.

"You guys caused quite the scare last night," President Davis claimed, "care to explain that?"

"We apologize for that," Matron Williams answered, "but we were certain that if we turned up up in atmosphere, with no prior announcement, we'd have an Independence Day scenario. As cheesy as that movie was, I had no desire to reenact it."

The President mused on that for a bit before she asked another question, "And what exactly is it you want from us?"

"Actually, we want nothing from you but a little understanding," Matron Williams responded, "this may come as a shock to you, but your world has nothing that we want. Imperial technology is several orders of magnitude above what your people currently have. If our scouting reports are to be believed, your world has just begun using holography for your extensive global communications. The Empire has been using that technology for millennia and we are now moving, after significant delay, into using trans-dimensional hard light for long terms communication."

"I think you went over their heads there, Matron," says the Archmage after the Presidential team's collective jaws drop, "Esmer, I need you."

The bluebell ancilla emerges, hovering just above the Archmage's head. The Presidential Staff gawk at the newcomer as it floats towards them.

"Hiya!" the faerie figure says, floating to the Commander of Chief, "I'm Esmeralda, an Imperial Artificially Intelligent Ancillary Unit, Level Ten. It's a pleasure to meet cha!"

The ancilla holds out a hand, to which President Davis holds out a tentative finger. The ancilla, despite having a very ethereal presence, grabs hold of the proffered finger and shakes it vigorously.

In a whisper to her handler, "I like her, Boss; she's silly!"

"I thought you might," the Archmage says, "and for our audience at home, that was but a small sample of the sort of gear the Terran Empire uses."

"Impressive," says Madame President, "In your message last night, you said you were willing to pursue mutually beneficial agreements. What did you mean by that?"

Matron Williams answers, "Well, The Empire, in it's current state, is rather bereft of populace. After a dormancy of 25,000 years, we have a very limited number of citizens residing on our homeworld of Terra Firmé. We were hoping to, if any party were willing, to allow migration from Terra Firma to our world. We also would like to share our knowledge of more advanced technology and materials, within reason, mind you."

"Wait a minute," said Adm. Howard, "what do you mean, 'a dormancy of 25,000 years?'"

"That's a good question," the Archmage says, "there's a whole story to it all, but it takes forever to tell it. I can summarize if you like."

When the President and her staff nod, the Archmage begins, "About 'round 26,000 years ago, The Terran Empire came in contact with the first of the Equestrians. Relations were actually pretty good for a while until certain parties starting mucking up the works. Eventually, The Empire and The Equestrians started fighting each other. The Empire had technological superiority, but Equestrian Magic nullified a great deal of it; whatever gear that could be used against the Equestrians was either short range or had limited targeting capability. Equestrian magic, Arcanus Equus has no real range, so the Empire was beaten further and further back. Soon, the Empire fell, and the remains of key leadership was forced to evacuate the planet. If you're wondering, they evacuated to here, Terra Firma. It's estimated that something on the order of 85-97% of the humans here are descended from Terran Imperial families."

"It should be noted that there were humans here already, but they were nowhere near as advanced or as educated as the Imperial Terrans," adds First Sage McAllister, "it's likely that Imperials and Native Terra Firma mingled and thus- humanity, as you know it."

"So," President Davis muses, "what does that mean?"

Matron Williams answered, smiling, "It mean that virtually every denizen of this planet is a member of the Terran Empire already," then after a beat, "you're welcome."

Our meeting meeting with POTUS went better than expected. We discussed a lot about what the Terran Empire could do for the planet, the country, and society in general. No doubt the men in the room perked up a bit when they heard that the male-to-female ration was something like one for every fifteen. When news of this gets out to the public, I bet there's going to be a mad dash for immigration forms…

We also discussed meeting the United Nations Assembly. While the world crisis management firm was still holding on, many of the dynamics that I remember existing twenty years ago are no longer in play. Although some things haven't changed much. (I was somewhat relieved to hear the Vladmir Putin got assassinated about three years after I left the last time. I was dismayed to hear that Kim Jun-Un was still out and about. And worse, he was even more bat shit crazy than before. How that worked out, I don't wanna know.)

In order to make sure we got the whole assembly gathered in New York, President Davis gave us a window of forty-eight hours to prepare. That was more than enough time for me, although by the end of it, Matron Williams was looking to punt anyone dumb enough to disturb her ass-over-teakettle across the moon. (And not Terra Firma's moon, either. We're talking Luna's Moon. Kee-riste!)

At the moment, the entire Quorum of Twelve is locked into harnesses onboard the courier shuttle Friendship. A Dove class vessel, it has no weapons on it and only basic shielding. Given that Meghan wants to project an air of benevolence, I don't blame her in the choice of transport. I highly doubt coming down in an Albatross class dropship would endear us to the nations of the world. I would love to see nations like Iran and North Korea shit bricks when they see the sort of firepower The Empire wields, but that come some other day. (I'm hoping sooner rather than later.)

We're touching down in front of the UN Building now. I look to my right and see Matron WIlliams; she's hates flying so this trip has been especially bothersome for her. To my left is Danny McAllister, snug in his Imperial Army officers uniform. Next to him is his half sister, Molly; she's wearing the vestments of a sage. (She is of House Intelligentsia, so that's fitting.) Her good friend and fellow bookworm, Princess Twilight, is sandwiched between The Grand Sage and First Surgeon, Kevin Lopez. His scrubs are pressed clean and white, the House of Apollo sigil gleaming of his lapel; the smile on his face hides just how anxious he is. Next to him is Kim Su-Yee, of the House of Mason. Her hands are busy with a hard light tablet; I see she's working furiously to concoct some new formula. I think I'll ask her later just what it is she's working on. In the last seat on this side is Nefertiti Goni'yo, of the House of Anthro. She is the Great Scribe of our Quorum, so she's has a HLT on her as well, although she uses hers to record the minutes of meetings and any additional Imperial business.

Across from her is the Quorum representative for House Hephaestus, Executive Engineer Abbas Sub-Nir; he's reading his Koran right now and very much invoking the spirit of his Moorish ancestors. To his left is Pierre Francois, of House Flora and our leading vineyard master. I know he complains about the lack of good wine on Terra Firme, but even he knows that alcohol is best not mixed with Imperial business. Next to him is human wife, Jeanne, of the House of Fauna. She is leading veterinarian and is here to assist her Equestrian charges. Speaking of which, the next to seats are occupied by three ponies: Princess Cadence, in a rare out-of-the-Crystal-Empire excursion, her husband, Shining Armor, and Princess Luna. (Luna and I have been exchanging goofy faces all the way down. I just hope she doesn't panic from being away from Arcturus; that time last that happened, the griffons holding him captive suffered major losses and at least two mountains were razed. (The first one was Luna's fault, but I take blame for the second one. No one messes with my son, damn it!) The very last member of our entourage is the Quorum member from the House of Genial, Koribuki Akemi. I don't know why our resident psychiatrist decided to dress in Sweet Lolita style, but I don't hear anyone complaining about it. (Especially my buddy Kevin, who is sweet on the Japanese cutie.)

Ah, finally, we've landed!

"Milady," i say, as the safety harnesses come off, "my I take your hoof?"

Luna smiles widely before offering her left forehoof and saying, "I am glad to, milord."

Despite being larger than your average Equestrian, Luna is still quite dainty in my mortal hands. I don't know if that's her magic making her so or what; even if it is, I appreciate the gesture. (The one time I was pinned under Celestia during an impromptu hoofball game, I discovered, the hard way, just how heavy an alicorn can get. I did have the tact not to mention to Sunbutt or her sister.) Every human and pony aboard disembarks behind Matron Williams and we all march out. Our pilot seems to have a sense of humor about this; I can hear The Prodigy's Stand Up as we approach the building. Although, I have to admit, it makes our entrance that much more epic; The Terran Empire arrives on Earth like a boss!

The doors of the UN Assembly Hall are opened before us by a pair of U.S National Guardsmen. Both look awestruck by our procession. I don't think I blame them; I mean come on, aliens from another world, coming up like they own the place. Our entrance to the Assembly Chamber itself is no less attention grabbing. Like outside, the floor is teeming with not only delegates from every nation on Earth, but also reporters from every other news organ on the planet. I see an MSNBC journalist trying to get a statement from Twilight to no avail. Over to my right and ahead is a CNN reporter laying down color commentary. A gaggle of different cameramen and journalists are swarming in front of Matron Williams, yet with practiced ease, she ignores them all. Luna is besides me and I can see that she is completely out of her element. I don't blame her; paparazzi here on Terra Firma are just as bad as the ones back home in Equestria. (Maybe even worse!) I give her nuzzle and an affectionate scratch behind her ears to let her know everything's alright. She returns the nuzzle as cameras snap shots of us that no doubt will be making headlines news later on today.

The ushers for the Assembly are taking us to a row of seats right in front of the speakers podium. I see that Ban Ki Moon is still Secretary General, although he now looks extremely aged and worn. Taking on the cares of the world can do that to a body, I guess. When all of us are seated, Luna having the biggest trouble because the seats are stadium styled and she can't get her hindquarters properly situated, the whole room goes quiet. Sect. Moon has the floor. He gives some pleasantries to the assembled nations here today, declaims this hour as the historic event in human history, then calls up Matron WIlliams and Princess Luna to the podium. Luna is glad to get up but I see the Matron looking several leagues beyond nervous. I get up with the two, so that I can help out Luna; even with all the etiquette she possesses for a millennia old mare, she still has trouble addressing groups.

There's a line from The Princess Bride I'd like to use here, but I'm not gonna. It would cheapen the experience. So let me sum up what happened at The UN Assembly. Matron Williams gave a brilliant speech about how Terra Firmé and Terra Firma are intricately connected. She let the people of Earth know that The Terran Empire was not out to conquer the planet. We welcomed anyone that was willing to come meet us as we held station just above the District of Columbia. (This no doubt disrupted air travel out of Dulles and angered the CIA and NSA with our intrusion into Washington airspace. I bet the General of the Air Force was fit to be tied by the Stalwart parked over the Washington Memorial.) Meghan then welcomed the people of Last Chance to the Terran Empire, explaining about the origins of the peoples here as descendants of the Old Imperial refugees. She then gave a stern warning to the despots of the world: the Empire would not brook any hostility towards itself and all of its citizens. (Kim Jun-Un was hit with a Neural Disruptor beam early on when he shouted, in relatively good English, that he wanted Imperial Technology and Weapons immediately. Russian and Iranian officials wanted to protest this, but shut the fuck up after Jun-Un got hit. I bet the disruptor pulse took all the "fuck you" out of 'em.)

The last thing Matron Williams mentioned was a bit of wisdom: The Terran Empire was open to lending whatever help was asked of it, but would not willingly provide support for any tyrannical or megalomaniacal scheming. She let it be known that we have weapons of terrible consequence and allies with the Equestrians whose magic will cause even greater damage. Luna demonstrated that by using her magic to knock a Peoples Republic of China aircraft carrier out of the ocean and land it, very gently, in the middle of Shanghai. I don't think I have to explain the sort of fright this caused, having a honest magic user teleport of a multiple ton naval vessel several hundred miles inland with nary a thought. We made a promise that we would only use such power and weapons only as a last result. I'm certain the NATO nations took rather kindly to this thought…

After making the rounds with the major powers that day, we were escorted, under heavy guard, to the Towers Hotel in Manhattan. (The Equestrians had a little shock to hear the name of the borough we where being taken to. Twilight made a comment about the similarity to our two worlds. Both Luna and I shook our heads at the studious princess.) I made a note to take as many pictures as possible so we could show Rarity some human fashions. I bet she'll want to come on the next expedition when she sees that! We were given numerous suites to stay in. Luna and I were placed in the Royal Suite, which the Night Goddess took to immediately. Meghan got set up in the Champagne Suite and Cadence, Shining and Twilight were placed in the Jewel Suite. (I heard that Twilight and Shining got into a small shouting match to determine where everypony would sleep. Cadence, great mediator that she is, declared that Twilight would share the master bedroom with her while Shining would be spending his nights on the couch. Although, I never heard him complain it it though. I can see why; those sofas are really plush!) Everyone else were placed in the Triplex Suites. From what In saw of them, the rest of the Quorum members were getting just as much luxury as the rest of us.

As planned, our seven day venture came to an end. Danny had the Aegis return to fleet while Molly and Meghan checked us out. When we left The Towers, we were once again escorted back to the UN Assembly Building on the East River. Friendship was still there, though our pilot had taken some local accommodations closer to UN Headquarters than ours were. A brief press conference was held (I did the majority of the talking) and then we boarded. Once airborne, we received a Marine escort to Washington. The escort broke off when we approached the Stalwart. A good thing, too, as Capt. Stewart reported that several individuals were seen hovering under the ship. The FBI came around and arrested a few of them on suspicion of terrorist activities. (Oh, that forsaken Patriot Act! Why didn't Congress just let that thing die already?!) From what I gathered during our stay, Islamic extremists still existed. The news of that angered Abba pretty badly…

Back onboard Stalwart, I got a summons back to my suite. I had learned that Applejack and my twins were just starting to walk. I couldn't keep a smile from crawling across my face. I got back to the suite just in time to see Ambrosia, the filly and the colt, Honeycrisp, taking tentative steps on all four hooves. Ay Jay watched happily as they waddled over to me, repeating their very first words as well, "Papa." I held them close while I kissed Jackie on her forehead. The last few days have been trying for all us, but this little moment made it all worth it. Then I got an even bigger surprise. Fluttershy came in as Ay Jay and I were playing with the twins. She emerged from the water closet just off the sitting room. She had been sick for a little while, vomiting at random intervals over the last few days. Ay Jay got a smug look in her eyes while I attended my beloved Pegasus. When I asked her if she was okay, she smiled despite evidence to her illness was still present. Then she said six words that made my day.

"Stevie, we're going to have a foal!"

Flutters will be giving birth to a colt by the time we return to Terra Firmé. Yaysies!

31 Falling in Love is Hard on the Knees

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Twenty:

It's been a quite an uneventful five days. Not much has really happened, even given that Ponyville seems to be a magnet for weird. Trixie is still in town, for whatever reason. She is keeping to her word, thankfully. Twilight seems amenable to the showmare, although the unicorn still has a tendency to speak of herself in third person. Trixie is slowly warming up to the other Elements of Harmony; just yesterday she, Flutters, and Rarity shared a spa day. I know because I was dragged along. I've never been in the spa. Truth be told, I've never been to any spa before. So having Aloe and Lotus Blossom wrap my face in kelp and deal me a mani/pedi was a- unique experience. It was strangely relaxing. I don't think I'll be going on a regular basis, unless Flutters wants me to join her.
Speaking of Fluttershy, she has spent the last ninety-six hours in preparations for making a herd for me. She seems rather enthusiastic about it; I give her a brave face but I'm less than than thrilled about this. Back home, I always considered myself a one woman kinda guy. The idea of dating more than one woman was beyond the pale for me. But now that I've entered the waters of Equestrian Courtship, I'm given the understanding that ponies are fairly open to polygamy. Given the ratio of mares-to-stallions on this world, I can understand it, even if it is still unsettling to me.
So far, the short list includes all of Flutters fellow Element Bearers. Rainbow Dash is currently on top of the list, given her previous interactions with me. Twilight sits in the middle, though given her penchant for silent disapproval of me, I doubt she'd be willing. Rarity is a slightly better option, but her initial disdain for humanity hasn't completely faded away; she still flinches when I eat or when I smile. (Every now and then, I hear her make disparaging remarks about our relationship.) Pinkie- I don't know about Pinkie. She's more a friend than a sexual partner. Applejack is at the bottom of the list, for obvious reasons. She and Lone Star are going steady and I'm in no mood to cock block a bro. That and I have a pretty good idea that Ay Jay would find the whole idea mollifying.
There's still no word from Hand about this "archmage" business. I keep getting stonewalled every time I ask. Esmer has been a little more helpful, even if her only answer to the question is some variant of "Big Sis is working on it." I'm starting to get a little peeved about this; I can't seem to get a straight answer from anything within the Imperial Ecumene. I swear, all this uncertainty is going to turn my hair gray yet! As if I don't have enough without this ball that is about to go down… Oh, that's right, I haven't mentioned that yet. The other day, Twilight was handing out invitation to something called the grand galloping gala, whatever that is. When I asked Rarity while we were having that spa day, she rightly scandalized. Flutters explained it was this big whoop-dee-do happening in Canterlot. It sounds like a black tie affair. All the Element Bearers are invited and Fluttershy was allowed a "plus one." Guess who that is going to be.
Rarity has volunteered to make me a tux for the event. I would have passed on it, but Twilight has insisted that I show up. Flutters also gave me the cutest, most indignant pout that she could muster. I couldn't possibly say no to that! This will be the first time I've been in the presence of Canterlot nobility, too. My last visit to Canterlot, the Royal Guards shunted me through a back door path which avoided all the Canterlot snobs. Thank God for that, but this this time, I'll be at their mercy. I'm gonna hate this or live to regret ever coming to this shindig, ain't I?

"I'm so excited! I'm so excited!" Rarity exclaims.

This is the ninth time she's been so elated since I came into the Boutique this morning. The entirety of our conversation has been dominated by the Grand Galloping Gala. You'd think the fashionista had just won the lottery or something. Worse, no matter where I steer the dialogue, Rares turns it right back around to the Gala. I'm gonna need an Aleve after this…

"Can you imagine," Rarity starts, "dancing the night away with the stallion of your dreams-"

"Or mare," I add, earning a confused look from Rarity, "Imma guy, remember? I don't swing that way."

"Oh, yes," the seamstress replies, bashfully, "well, how can you not be excited? Such an elegant soiree, with all the most elegant fashions? Can you just imagine?!"

"I try not to," I retort, earning a rather dour look, "sorry, Rares, but I just don't see what all the hubbub is about. So it's a fancy party? Big deal! For me, it's three plus hours I'm stuffed into a monkey suit. I'm just hoping the food and drink are good or I may just duck out."

"Bwa?" Rarity blurts out, before the rustling of a curtain draws our attention.

"Rarity?" calls a soft voice from the stage of Rares shop, "I'm, uh, I think I'm ready."

"Splendid, dahling, do please reveal yourself."

The curtains part and Fluttershy steps out, draped in a rather elegant part gown. I think my eyes must be bulging out of my head. I've seen Flutters in some cute outfits, but this- good God, Fluttershy is drop dead gorgeous! Dainty lace sleeves lead up to a stunning satin bodice that wraps up Flutters barrel in an intricate figure eight pattern. The bodice ends in a fluted skirt, also satin, but with hints of velvet in a sash. Her hair, which is down up in an sophisticated French (or as they call it here, Prench) braid is laced with ribbons in the colors of her cutie mark. It's a very fetching ensemble, even for someone as fashion dense as myself.

"Bwa…" I drone.

"Oh no," Flutters laments, "you don't like it?"

"Bwa…" I drone again; I'm sorry, Flutters, my cerebellum has just fused.

"You look lovely, dahling!" Rarity declares, "and if SOMEPONY doesn't realize how lucky he is, I may just make him wish he had."

It takes a moment or two before my brain decides to get out of its dog-lock; precious seconds pass by where my inability to speak is chiseling away Flutters self confidence. So, while my speaking ability recovers, I decide to walk to the edge of the platform, where Fluttershy is standing, still so self-conscious that she she shrinking away from even my presence. Once I'm at the stage, and I have a hand outstretched, Flutters relaxes a bit.

"Gorgeous…" I mutter, almost too soft for Fluttershy to hear, "so gorgeous…"

"Stevie," the butter cream Pegasus asks, "are you okay?"

"I am," I whisper, "but by all things Bright, you have never been more beautiful than you are now."

This makes my mare blush all over.

"Well, I say that was a successful test run." Rarity announces.

"Huh?" I stammer.

"Well, Stevie," Flutters offers, "this is only a sampling of the dress Rarity is making for me. She assures me the finished product will be much more elegant."

I. Am. Speechless.

"I do believe, dearest Fluttershy, that your coltfriend is at a loss of words," Rarity comments, "let us allow him some time to collect his thoughts."

The two mares walked out of the showroom and into the dressing room just off to the side. I was still standing in front of the stage, flabbergasted. What I had already seen was beautiful as is, but Rarity had promised to make it even more so. This was like Donna Lauren (or whatever her name is) deciding her masterpiece of fashion needed a little more "oomph." I don't even wanna know to what extremes Rarity is gonna take this creation, but I do believe that Flutters is going to be stunning in it. After a quick shake of my head, I get my head straight and slump down to a- what did Rarity call it?- a chaise lounge.

Hmm, not bad. For a sofa that happens to be pony sized, this chaise isn't all that uncomfortable. It's actually really comfy! I wonder if I get a quick nap on this thing. Given that my dreams as of late are getting more and more cryptic, and disturbing I may add, it surprises me that I haven't started nodding off in my-

Peeling off the tactical armoured carapace is small joy that every Praetorian lives for. My accumulated rest-and-relaxation days are going to be paying off soon. I have no less than six hundred and seventy-two hours of freedom from patrol or combat duty. Needless to say, 'tis a relief. I haven't drawn or painted anything in over a year. I have so much inspiration in my head right now, it's threatening to burst.

"Say, Sir," asks one of Praetor Pollux, brother of Sergeant Castor, "what are you doing for R and R?"

"I was going to paint some," I answer, "it's been so long since I've created something, I fear my talent in the area has all but left me. I plan on testing that theory as soon as I get home."

"Paint, sir?" Pollux asks, with mild confusion.

"Yes, painting," I reply, "or maybe a sculpture. I haven't put chisel to granite in nearly a decade. Perhaps it is time to reawaken that skill."

Praetor Pollux looks at me with some unease, then sighs, saying, "I hadn't imagined you actually taking up a hobby, sir. I had assumed you would be with the rest of us, drinking up a stupor. I find a stiff shot of whiskey is more than enough to dull the ache of devastation we of House Praetorian wring."

I chuckle, "If this is what relaxes, young Pollux, then I shan't stop you. You are more than old enough to deal with the consequence alcohol brings. Tell our fellows I think fondly of them. As for I, the destiny of a block of stone and a set of chisels awaits me! Fare thee well!"

After making a quick stop by Castor's office to bid him well and he the same, I leave Harmony House. It is not to far to reach my residence/studio in the Imperial Capitol of Pivot. Even before I transferred from House Intelligentsia to House Praetorian, I had this studio. It was a place where my vision could take root, far and away from the prying eyes and judgmental attitudes of the Artisans Row. There weren't many in my former House who could look at my works and see what I saw. I still had friends in Intelligentsia, but they were few and far between. The Praetors were of my family now than any I had in Intelligentsia.

Very few know of this refuge I made, the least of which is a man that comes into view as I round a corner to my studio. He is frail, pale, wearing an overlong duster made of filament fiber velvet (less flimsy than one would think but just as plush), a cadet cap (the norm headgear for artists in House Intelligentsia), a pair of denim jeans (easier to crawl around on the ground with, methinks) and some trainers, leans against the wall adjacent the buildings entry. It has been nearly two decades since I have seen him last, although it looks like he hasn't aged a day, if at that. He looks up from the Personalized Holographic Adjunct Tablet and looks my way, breaking into a smile.

"Well, if it isn't the Goddess forsaken prodigal son himself!" exclaims my old friend Cassius, "How do you fare, Ambrose?"

I grasp his outstretched hand while removing the trooper cap upon my head and reply, "I have fared better, but at your shadow, I am now well!"

We embrace, as good old friends are wont to do. I remember the smell of petrol and wood-chips coming from his shoulders, which are almost level to mine. He was always a tad rebellious, using a vibration axe to carve his figurines, but that is would endeared him to me, that sense of quirk in his work and mind.

"That is good to hear," Cassius said, "I feared the constant action of those brutes in Praetorian would be the end of you. I am still trying to wrap my head around the notion that you would join those thugs."

"Brutally honest as always," I lament, "without the trace most amount of tact. Cassius! What brings you here, my Brother?"

In another world, in another time, Cassius and I belonged to one family. It was at least three lifetimes ago, maybe one thousand, seven hundred and fifty years or so ago, but the connection was still there. In this life, we have been born apart but the familial bond was the same. Our Memories made sure of that.

"I has some to time to kill," Cassius replies, with a dubious smile growing across his lips, "I have been working on some new installations at the Hall of Memorials. But that morbidity and solemness is driving me mad! I need to- I want to-"

"Sing?" I answer tentatively.

"No, no, brother, I did that last week. Now, what I want to do, what I need to do is to plant my seed into a young and willing body. Preferably of the female persuasion, but in this life, it matters not."

I shake my head, "You always had that, that means by which both sexes appeal to you. I wish I could share that, but I don't find males that attractive."

"Even though you work with and fight amongst all that beefcake?" Cassius asks.

"Especially so," I answer, "I have seen more phallus in this life than any one man should have right to. You might enjoy it, but I find it disturbing."

Cassius laughs, "All that man-meat, ready for the taking! I do wonder if any of them think to console amongst themselves."

"If they have," I add, "I do not want to know and they have no mind to tell me."

Laughing again, as Cassius is wont to do. I keep forgetting he is the affable brother, were I was his straight man. In the last life we shared, the roles were reversed, in more ways than one. In the life before last, both Cassius and I were sisters. A very humbling experience, I can tell you. I was the flirtatious one, while he was the wallflower. It seems some of those experiences passed down into this life, whether we like it or not.

"Ah, it is too easy to get a rise out of you, Brother!" Cassius says, "but I have a much better proposal than standing in this Goddess forsaken cold and chatting it up."

I give Cassius a concerned look, "Whatever do you mean, Brother?"

"I mean, let us parley in a den of airs, rhythm, and and the overabundant consumption of spirits!" Cassius exclaims.

"You want us to attend a discotheque?" I ask.

Cassius laughs again, "So formal, Brother! But yes, a disco! I can tell you haven't danced in ages. And I know that you still have all the grace of your former life! Or mayhaps you have forgotten, 'Penelope?'"

"I have not forgotten," I protest, "but mayhaps you have, 'Bernadette.'"

Cassius gasps, then says, "You shall be proven wrong, Brother; I shall see to it! ONWARD!

We pass through the winding roads and perilously thick throngs before I notice we are heading for the Violet District of Pivot. This is the but one of the wards affiliated with House Genial, the supposed house of harlots and other unsavory characters. I have never met one from that House yet, so I am not one to judge. Cassius on the other hand, is alive with mischief. I can tell he has been this way before. Why else would he dragging me here? In this life, I am afflicted with a social anxiety disorder that makes it difficult at the least to meet new people. He would only drag me on one of his escapades if he knew the place was safe enough for me. So kindly he is, for a little brother!

"We are here, we are arrived!" Cassius declaims, "and not a minute too soon! The crowd is just amassing."

"I am unsure of this, Cassius," I mumble, "you know how I am in crowds. I can feel the anxiety rising in me…"

"Worry not, Brother," Cassius assures, "you shall be safe in here. It is not as bad as it is first perceived."

"For your sake," I growl, "it 'tis better it had not."

The retainer at the front door looks imperiously over the crowd, his large frame the envy of any in House Praetorian. Yet I see the sigil of House Genial on his elaborate uniform, the inverted violet heart over of a scarlet heart on a field of pink. The scowl on his visage fades as Cassius makes his way to the front of the cue. My Brother must be well known here.

"Luc," Cassius greets the burly retainer, "I brought a guest with me, if kind you would be."

"I shall," the brute says, with a soft tenor voice I had least expected of someone so massive, "your girl awaits inside."

"Thank you, Luc," Cassius says as we bypass the retainer and make our way to the interior, "spread this about not, but the true name of my man Luc there is Lucille. A minor mix up in the delivery room, I'm told."

"I shan't say a thing," I say, "besides, to whom would I tell?"

"Of course," Cassius says, "that reminds me, I think it is Luc's weekend to lay with me. Oh, how I enjoy his warm flesh inside me…"

"Too. Much. Information." I seethe.

"I ask of you, my apologies, brother." Cassius replies, "I forget you are uncomfortable with my recollection of my lovers. Ah, there she is!"

"She?" I query, "Just what is going on here, Cassius?"

"It is none much your concern, Brother," Cassius remarks, "just my business partner in this venture. Did I mention this is my disco?"

"Nay, you have not." I tell him.

"My head some days," Cassius laments, "without the lovely Cornelia to guide my thoughts, I doubt I could last a week in this 'entrepreneur' endeavor."

I was to ask of whom this "Cornelia" was when we reached the bar tap. Sitting on one of the stools, in a very revealing gossamer gown of softest and palest cerulean is a young woman. Her coiffure is simple, auburn hair with light streaks of amber cascading down to her shoulders. Her eyes are turned to the barkeep, but when she turns to see Cassius, I see her eyes are of a bright azure only the sky could hope to emulate. She has a bright smile coated in a crimson paint not uncommon of those in House Genial. There is a blush across her cheeks applied with a light hand and her eyelids are adorned with light shade of leafy green, complimenting her eyes. By the Grace of the Goddess, I have only ever seen one woman as beautiful before and poor Valeria is a pale imitation in comparison.

"Good eve to you, Cassius," softly says the maiden, a warm voice that is just only begun to deepen, "I trust your errand went well?"

"Indeed it did, Cornelia," Cassius confirms, "but manners, where have I left them? Cornelia, a pleasure of mine to you meet my good friend and former brother, Ambrose of House Praetorian."

"Hail, fellow," Cornelia breathes.

"W-w-well me- met, well met, fair maiden," I reply.

She issues a melodious giggle, saying, "He is a shy one, Cassie."

"He was worse in his years younger," Cassius informs her, much to my chagrin, "Cory, dear, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to…"

"Namely filling that young thing upstairs with your seed again, no doubt." Cornelia teases.

"Yes, there is that," Cassius admits, "Andromeda can get rather insatiable at times… Yet, I also have a meeting with Governor Marcus. He is interested in one of my installations. He was to meet with me in my office and unless I am late-"

"You are not," Cornelia informs him, "he is not yet arrived."

"Ah," Cassius exclaims, "than I am to remove myself, poste haste! Brother, behave yourself."

I cannot get a word in edge wise before he sprints off to a staircase in the back of the disco and disappears upstairs.

"A ball of nervous energy, that one," Cornelia breathes, "he is a hummingbird with the libido of a rabbit."

"He always been that way," I add, "staying still has never been his forté. The surprise I see in all of this is why he has not invited such a beauty such as you to join him."

I did not just say that!

"You tease me," Cornelia breathes, a wistful smile on her lips, "I am sure there are others in the Higher Houses that are more comely than I."

"I think not," I assure her, "they may come close but you are- more welcoming, more warm. I would almost go so far to say motherly."

"I have been told that a time or two before," Cornelia says, "Ambrose, was it?"

"Yea, verily." I confirm, giving her one of my hands, to shake or swat away. Instead, she pulls the glove of the proffered hand and leans in to kiss the back of it.

"Cassius my have mentioned my name, but let me formally introduce myself," she whispers, "I am Cornelia, First Confidante of House Genial."

"YOU WANT TO WHAT?!"

Whoa, now there's a way to wake up! If Rarity is screeching like that, I can only assume that my Butterfly just asked Rarity to join our herd. It doesn't take a theoretical physicist to confirm the outcome.

"I was only asking," Flutters says, "you don't have to be all indignant about it."

"But a herd, Fluttershy? Whatever could you be thinking?" Rarity demands.

"I was only asking," My Butterfly replies, "I wanted to share the love that Stevie and I have.

"I think I understand," Rarity says, "Steven can be a gentlecolt when he chooses to be. If only he weren't so vulgar…"

"He's been working on it," Flutters says, "it's been a lifelong habit of his; breaking it it has been difficult. His 'colloquial emphasis' is just one way he expresses himself."

"Be that as it may, dahling," Rarity says, "I don't think I have the patience for his- eccentricities."

The mares emerge from the back room to see me groggily rising to my feet. Good God, I'm still exhausted.

"Stevie, are you okay?" My Butterfly asks.

"Not really," I answer, "by all things bright, I'm tired."

"Why is that, dahling?" Rarity asks.

I point my finger with a devious smile at Flutters and say, "My Butterfly, she is insatiable. She begs me to rut her night and day."

Rarity pales at this statement and Fluttershy does as well while fixing me with a look that is equal parts annoyed and embarrassed.

"Sorry, Rares," I explain, "that was me being facetious. Truth is, I've been having with some rather- involving and exhausting dreams as of late. Memories of the Terran Empire, I think."

Rarity gasps, "Is it really that bad?"

I nod, "I've taken to a Zebra remedy for insomnia, but it hardly helps."

The fashionista looks thoughtful for a moment then, "Oh, how forgetful of me, Steven, I have your suit for the Grand Galloping Gala!"

"Okay," I say, "lemme see it."

Rarity squeals a little bit, then proceeds to open a closet just off the showroom. She pulls out a bagged mannequin (or close approximation of one) with her magic.

"Presenting," Rarity announces dramatically, "an original Rarity Carousel creation, which I call 'Steven's Suit!'"

The porcelain unicorn rips the cover off the mannequin with her magic in a dramatic fashion. I think I hear Flutters giggle a little at the contents beneath the cover. I for one want to run and hide. Or hide and run. I can't quite make my mind on what I want to do considering the- travesty in front of me.

"What the fuck is this shit?!"

Fluttershy has rarely heard me spit profanity; I'm usually very careful about my language around her. In this instant, I can hide my disgust at this- this- for lack of a better word, this costume Rarity is trying to hoist on me. My Butterfly's gasp of shock is well deserved; she's never heard me so vehement.

"But- but-" Rarity stammers, "it's so magnifique! Charity and I spent days on this!"

"Back to the drawing board, for both of you," I roar, "I ain't having puffy shoulders! And these ankles are not getting exposed, thank you very much!"

"Maybe we should go, Stevie," Fluttershy says, "before somepony's feeling are hurt."

"Agreed," I seethe, "fix my suit, Rarity."

Flutters got up my grill for my treatment of Rarity, which I deserved. I took all of Fluttershy's lecture about tact and politeness. She then ordered me to apologize to Rarity for my temerity. I promised to do; I was genuinely sorry that happened. Either because of the exhaustion of the last few nights or because I'm an unredeemable asshole, I snapped like that. I even told My Butterfly such, letting her know I was feeling remorse for my attitude. Although I did admit I wouldn't be caught dead in a suit like that. Flutters giggled, agreeing that the suit was rather gaudy, even by Rarity's standards.

For the rest of the day, My Butterfly and I went from one end of Ponyville to the other seeking out prospects for our herd. (I think of it as our herd because I honestly don't think I can handle six mares all at once. Flutters is okay but imagine Pinkie Pie? That is one mare that no stallion can handle! Save maybe Cheese Sandwich, Goddess save him.) With Rarity's rejection, we made our way to Golden Oak. Twilight was more polite about the herd idea than Rarity was, but she, too, declined. I don't think I blame her. Twilight and I aren't really friends; acquaintances maybe but friends, no.

We then ran into Pinkie on our way to see RD. Fluttershy asked her, but I don't think Pinkie Pie understood. The Pink Party Paradox is many things, but some of her understanding is limited. She had to have the concept of herd explained to her, but she was not thoroughly capable of processing the concept. In the end, we had to mark Pinkie off, so innocent she was. I did reassure her she was still my friend, as hyperactive and random as she was.

Rainbow Dash was, understandably, excited by the prospect of joining our herd. Given what happened between us before, she was already ready and raring to go. The nominally impatient Pegasus wanted to start right now, but I sure as shitting wasn't ready and My Butterfly wanted to make it something special. So it was agreed between the three of us to meet at Flutters cottage at seven. We'd make a whole thing about, music, food, wine (I wasn't gonna drink it), and then SEXY TIMES.

We never did find AJ. When we spoke with Big Mac, he said his sister was out on errand. Something to do with Applebloom marching through a swamp made of fire or something. I half expected him to utter something about Rats of Unusual Size… (Where's Westley when he need him?) He didn't know when she'd be back. Fluttershy let him know that all we wanted to do was talk to her about something, but it wasn't an important thing and could wait until later. Biggie said he'd send the message along when his siblings returned. The expression on the stallions face said to me that he knew what the deal was, but was too polite to ask about it.

At seven on the dot, there's a knock at the door. I answer it because I have a good idea who's behind it. I open the door, and there is Dash, decked out in, most likely, the prettiest thing she owns. The sparse white toga is as elegant as the stunt mare is ever gonna get, but considering that she went to this length to make herself presentable shows that she really wants to make this work.

"Evening Dash," I say, "you look good."

"Thanks, Steve," Ar Dee replies, "mind if I come in?"

"No prob," I answer, "Flutters is in the kitchen getting dinner ready. Is that the wine you brought?"

Dash brings forth in her hooves a bottle of salmon colored liquid with an exquisite label on it; no doubt Rarity would be jealous of the design.

"Only the best," RD confirms, "Sweet Apple Acre Reserve!"

"Fancy," I sing, "trying to get on my good side, ain'tcha?"

Dash nods, and glides quietly into the cottage. She sets the bottle of wine down on the dining room table and sets herself on the couch in the living room. She pats a hoof next to her to encourage me to sit down. I reluctantly oblige her.

"So," Dash begins, "a herd, huh?"

"Yeah," I confirm, "not really my idea. Flutters was concerned that she was hogging me all to herself. She is the Element of Kindness but I worry…"

"Don't," Dash says, "it's cool."

"… Okay."

After such a brief conversation, it's a relief when Fluttershy calls us in for dinner. We eat rather well, although I get a few stares when I abstain from the wine.

"You wouldn't know it from looking at me," I explain, "but I'm an angry drunk."

Fluttershy gives me a worried look, "What do you mean, Stevie?"

I sigh and continue explaining, "I learned fairly early on what happens when I drink: I get to feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof. I also get highly aggressive. Things really came to a head when I got into a bar fight where I busted a guys jaw, nose, and three of his ribs. He was more wasted than I was, but I remember everything the next day better than he did. Got lucky I guess; if the guy pressed charges, I'd be looking at felony assault. The next day I took out my copy of the Yellow Pages, I explained those, right?, and sought out an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I got back into religion at that point, started attending Sacrament Services more, started following my callings more closely, even began offering tithing and committed myself to every Fast Sunday. Still do, actually, though I doubt the Prophet would agree with most everything I've done up 'till now. Anyway, that's why I avoid alcohol."

The rest of the evening went pretty well. Then we all went upstairs. Things got heated pretty damn quickly. I suggested that Fluttershy and I should couple first, but she declined saying that Dash should have first crack tonight. I couldn't argue with her, not after early today. I know any number of my guy friends back home would say I was pussy whipped, but come on! This is Fluttershy we're talking about here! I can't think of any one man who could resist her charms.

So Dash, who was very randy by now and more than willing, got down on Flutters' bed. And we started up. I was nuzzling Dash, and I was deep inside her, she was moaning like a bitch in heat and things seemed to be going well. Then I heard a sniffle, some soft sobbing and then the creak of the bedroom door as it opened. The door downstairs slammed shut and I heard Flutters crying all the way down the lane. I stopped, much to Dash's protests.

"Sorry, RD, this ain't happening," I tell her.

"What?!" Dash cries, "but it was just getting good! Come on, Flutters is a grown mare; she'll understand!"

"Do you?" I ask.

I pull out of RD, swipe up my pants from the floor and rush out into the night to find Fluttershy. I do find her, no less than five minutes later, huddled in a ball at the base of a tree along the lane back to Ponyville. She is crying her eyes out, the poor thing, and she is rocking back and forth. The sight is enough to break any grown stallion's heart; mine has fissures threatening to shatter mine into microscopic pieces.

"Fluttershy?" I call out.

My Butterfly doesn't immediately respond. I scoop her up and take her back to the cottage. Dash is waiting outside, her toga back on and look of disdain and anger in her eyes.

"What the buck is going on?!" she cries.

"Sorry, Rainbow Dash," I say, edging my way into the cottage, careful not to bang Flutters' head into the door frame, "My Butterfly needs me."

I close the door behind me with a kick. I hear Dash outside, railing up a storm, but I hardly hear her. After six minutes of her ranting, she kicks the cottage door, thankfully not opening it. I see her silhouette blaze past the window as I set us down on the couch.

"Fluttershy," I call again, "don't cry. I'm here and I ain't leavin'."

"Stevie," My Butterfly breathes, "tell me I'm pretty."

"You are more than pretty, My Butterfly," I say, "you, my silly filly, are beautiful. There isn't a mare around as gorgeous as you, I swear on my dead Grandmother."

Flutters picks her head and looks at me; the look of fear and sadness is too much to bear.

"Stevie," she breathes again, "shouldn't you- shouldn't you be w-w-with Rainbow Dash?"

"Nope," I reply, "I'd rather be here with you."

"Even," she breathes again, "even i-if she's- if she's the p-p-p-p-perfect m-mare for you?"

I nuzzle into Fluttershy's mane and whisper in her ear, "I don't want perfect. I want you."

The smile on her face as she realizes just how much I care is enough to make my heart ache in woe. I hope to all things bright and holy I never see that beautiful smile go away.

32 To Hurt The Ones We Love

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Author's Notes:

WARNING! This chapter includes a headcanon depiction of Fluttershy's family life before she moved to Ponyville. Part of her flashback will include material of rather unsavory disposition: marital rape. It is a subject that is both sensitive and significantly unreported. I tread this subject with much respect to the many survivors of rape and those who support them. I will not romanticize or glorify this topic. I'm using it as a way of defining Fluttershy's demeanor vis-à-vis the end of Chapter 31, Falling in Love is Hard on the Knees. If this topic is beyond what are you capable of sustaining maturely, then please skip over this chapter. Thank you.

Also, the name of Fluttershy's mother and step-mother are two previous generations of Pegasi for whom the current generation of Fluttershy is based off of.

Her birth mother is Sky Shimmer:
Her step mother is Posey:

And yeah, I used the fanon R63 name for Fluttershy as her father.
Additional meat for the story will follow in the next two chapters, Lone Star State of Mind and An Apple Blossom Faire.

From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Twenty-Two:

Oh, Christ, last night was so messed up! Fluttershy, as caring and as compassionate as she is, may have bit off more than she can chew. She had invited Rainbow Dash for dinner. It was supposed to be a date to gauge Ar Dee's willingness to join us in a herd. I think things went a little too quickly for My Butterfly, because as Dash and I were in the midst of mating, she just- fled. I don't know what caused her to do that; she seemed very upset about it all. After I brought her back home, she spent most of the night crying and I had to remind her that even in her imperfection, she is perfect in my eyes. I haven't the foggiest why this all came up, but I'll be keeping a close watch on my mare for the foreseeable future. She is my Beautiful Butterfly, after all.

Filly Fluttershy Point of View:

I miss my mama. Papa says she's sleeping, but sometimes, I think he tells me this so he doesn't have to admit the truth. I know, though, that my mama is dead. Papa doesn't think I remember. It's hard not to remember what happened on the day that should have been so very happy. It's also hard not to get the image of that dragon snatching her out of the sky like- No- No- mama…!

Papa drinks a lot now. There's often an empty bottle of Skywalker Whiskey on the floor before he goes to bed. He's never mean, no, when he drinks. He's actually kind of sad. He like to touch me a lot when he's like that. He'll hug me, while he's crying, and stroke my mane. Sometimes he'll yank my tail, just to hear me gasp. I don't know why he does that but it feels wrong. Sometimes he'll touch me in places that make me feel funny. That feels even more wrong, if such a thing can exist. He doesn't do that often, but enough to where I worry for my papa. I would like to tell him to stop, but I don't want to upset him.

He hasn't done that in a while, though, not since he met Ms. Posey. She is so nice! She kind of looks like mama. Her mane is the same color, but her cutie mark is five tulips. Mama's cutie mark was so pretty! She had a beautiful butterfly! (I often wonder if her Wonderbolt teammates teased her about it. If they did, she never said anything.) Ms. Posey is also a little heavier than mama. She once told me she had a little filly of her own once but she couldn't keep her. She sometimes still cries for her little filly, but she tells me she's okay. It upsets me that she cries like that, but I never say anything.

She is nice enough, though, I suppose. She tucks me in at night, she sings me lullabies before bed, she makes these really yummy breads that I love. (She makes this delicious blueberry and almond bread that is to die for! Whenever she makes it, she always makes me a spare loaf; I can inhale one of those in minutes!) She always makes sure I have my lunch before school, and she was the one that helped me out during Flight School. She isn't as fast as my good friend, Rainbow Dash, but Dashie says Ms. Posey is like that because she was raised by mud ponies. I don't like it when Dashie says things like that; it's like she doesn't know what she's talking about or repeating what her parents say. It's really annoying when Dashie talks about Ms. Posey like that, but I never say anything.

Ms. Posey really likes my papa. I see them hugging and kissing a lot. There was one night when I was going to get a glass of water. I passed by my mama's and papa's room. The bedside lamp was on and my papa and Ms. Posey were hugging on the bed. I wanted to sigh because it was so cute that they were hugging, but then I heard Ms. Posey say something that confused me.

"Butterscotch, no, I don't want to tonight. Please stop!"

"Cum on, Posey, ya know you want it. Ain't I a virile stallion?"

"Yes, yes, you're a very virile stallion, Butters, but- AGH! you're hurting me! I'm not ready for- Augh!! No, Butters, I don't- Hrgh!"

"Ah, yeah, it's in, all nice and tight! Donna ya worry, Sky- Sky- Posesky- I know you like a little ruttin' after a show-"

"Butterscotch, no! Agh! Why- auh! why won't- huaaagh! stop!"

It really sounded like my papa was hurting Ms. Posey, but when I asked her about it the following morning, she said it was alright. She then asked me not to say anything to anypony about it. If I didn't, she would take me back down to the surface world again. I would really like that! I missed all my animal friends down there. She promised me… So, I haven't. I worry for Ms. Posey. If papa's hurting her, then why does she stay? I would like to tell papa to stop hurting Ms. Posey like that, because I really like Ms. Posey. But she told me not to say anything, so I never said anything.

I hope I meet a special somepony like papa met my mama and Ms. Posey one day. I'm still kind of afraid of dragons, though, after what happened to mama. I'll sometimes wake up in the middle night, screaming about dragons and mama. Ms. Posey will come in after and hold me close to her barrel and sing me a lullaby. Then she'll bring me some hot cocoa that she gets when she goes to the surface. My papa doesn't like it when she does that and they often get into fights about that. I get upset hearing papa scream that Pegasi don't belong on the surface like some mud pony and even the "thrice damned prickheads." I don't know what that means, but it doesn't sound very nice. I want to tell papa to stop using those words and allow Ms. Posey to go to the surface whenever she likes, but I never say anything.

I miss my mama.

Steven's Perspective

Urgh, I hate mornings. This morning doesn't sound so promising, either. My Butterfly was crying through most of the night; she kept calling out for her mother. From what I understand, her mother is dead, killed in some freak dragon attack. I didn't mind holding her close and rocking her to sleep. It just makes me concerned about why she was so upset about. Although, know that I think about it, I pretty much just dodged a bullet, there. I don't know how long I can have kept up with a competitive mare like Rainbow Dash.

I know that makes me sound like a jerk. I kinda fell like a jerk after all that happened last night. I really don't want to to, but methinks that I should make an apology to Ar Dee for what happened. She needs to know I don't hate her and neither does Flutters. It may have been too much for her; it certainly was too much for me. Huh, now that has me thinking, just what are the courting rituals for Equestrian's are. Seeing as we're dealing with a land where males are outnumbered by females by a factor of three or more, I bet things like plural marriage and the like are common.

That might explain why there are so many lesbians in town: too few stallions. That's probably not the only reason, but likely the chiefest. Doubtless there are gay stallions, too, the so called "colt cuddlers," but I feel there numbers are so few as to not make an impact on the local gene pool. Man, when did all this high sociopolitical bullshit get into my head?

"Mmmm," moans the mare in my arms.

"Well, now, My Beautiful Butterfly awakens!" I coo, "How did you sleep?"

"Badly," Flutters replies, "considering I used you as a bed."

"And," I added, "do you remember why you used me as a bed?"

Flutters started for a bit, then ducked her head down, attempting to hide her face behind her mane, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I assure, "something upset you about last night and I did what every good coltfriend should: I console my marefriend. So, do you wanna tell me what happened to you last night? Rainbow was really pissed that we reneged on the sexy times."

"I'm sorry," Fluttershy apologized, "I shouldn't have freaked out so much last night. It's just-" She stops, a furious blush and a quiver entering not only her voice, but her body as well. I massage the flank exposed to me, and this seems to calm her some.

"Whatever it is, My Butterfly, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. You can tell me anything and I'll never laugh, I'll never get mad, I'll just love you, hold you, cherish you, and make you feel beautiful."

Encouraged by my words, Fluttershy starts, "W-well, you- You know my mother is dead, right?"

I nod and she continues, "Well, for a while, my father drank, mostly to stop feeling but also to that he could just numb himself. After a while, he started seeing somepony else, and eventually he remarried. My papa, though, he wasn't the same stallion he was before my mama was killed. Di- Did you know that my mama was a Wonderbolt?

"No," I gasp, "you mean she was one of these aviators that Ar Dee is so obsessed about?"

My Butterfly nods, "She was. During an air show in Las Pegasus, a stray dragon entered the air field. She- She never stood a chance."

Flutters begins to sob again, streams of tears threatening to break past the dam of her eyes. I begin to pet her mane, and this keeps her calm as she continues.

"Anyway, my papa married this Pegasi from this very village. Her name is Posey. She was so sweet to me… My papa- Sometimes he was the perfect gentlecolt but ofttimes, especially when he was drunk, he would take Ms. Posey- by force."

"And by 'take' you mean he would- force himself on her? Rape her?"

Fluttershy nods, tears still present in her eyes, but now no longer threatening to spill over.

"Why didn't anypony say anything?"

"It- It was- I don't know! Fluttershy cries, "and when I saw you and Dashie last night, even though it was a totally different set of circumstances, I just-"

"I get it," I say, "you had a flashback to those days. A bit of post tramatic stress syndrome. That had to be hard to relive."

"It was," she admits, "I just hope Dashie can forgive me."

"We'll find out later," I tell her, planting a kiss on her muzzle, eliciting a smile, "Stevie…"

"Yes, My Butterfly?"

"Why do you call me 'My Butterfly?'"

I plant another kiss on her muzzle, making her squeak, "Because you're a little like a butterfly. At first, you were just helpless and small, you couldn't anything much at all and now, you have wings and the world is open to all with all it's infinite possibilities."

She giggles at that, "Really?"

I confirm with a solid nod, "Like I said last night, you're perfect in my eyes. You may never be totally perfect, but that's why I love you: you always try, no matter how scary or dangerous the attempt."

She hums peacefully in my arms, and nestles her head in my chest. If I had a say, we'd stay like this for all eternity.

33 Lone Star State of Mind

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At the Ponyville Train Station

Beatrice Lulamoon, once known as the great and powerful Trixie, is sitting on a cedar bench just outside the train depot. The station itself is but a quick gallop from Golden Oak Library, making it an ideal place for pony watching. Trixie never really put much stock on the bobby, preferring to gauge strings of ponies from onstage. Considering that her career as an illusionist is getting her nowhere and she has resolved herself to plant roots somewhere, it made good sense to her to settle where her greatest failing and greatest lesson were taught.

Ponyville reminded the showmare of the little hamlet she was born and raised. The earth pony village she once called home played host to very few unicorns. By all accounts, there weren't that many Pegasi, either. The Winter-Wrap Up that happened there was not that much different than what happened in Ponyville, so Trixie felt right at home here. She wouldn't admit that on a stack of Starswirl the Bearded tomes, but it was a comfort to see all the elements of her father's people here.

Her mother was a unicorn in a traveling circus that passed through some of the more barren regions of Equestria. Like Trixie, she had considerable aptitude towards magic, although her chiefest skill was in illusions. Her father saw her when the circus was in town; he was at first disgusted by the beautiful, if egocentric, young showmare. Yet, when Belladonna Lulamoon called on her father to assist in her magic show, he didn't have to be asked twice. After the show was over, she purposely sought after him. She complimented him on his poise in the limelight while her father begrudgingly admitted that Bella had an impressive array of tricks.

At first, the stallion Rough Shod hadn't thought the meeting was all that important. He was a tinker and cobblestone layer who dabbled in some juggling; he wasn't that important. Yet, a day before the circus packed up and left town, Ms. Lulamoon sought him out again, this time, she surprised him with a pale azure bellflower. He had no idea where she learned of this ancient earth pony courting ritual, but accepted the flower graciously. The two made plans for dinner and dancing that evening, although the circus was pulling up stakes. Shod was certain that he would never see the mare again, but he turned up local diner, anyway.

To his surprise, Bella was there at the appointed time. He backtracked home to retrieve the bellflower she gave him and returned. She was a tad disappointed that he didn't have a flower in his mane colors to give, but she brushed that off easily. He asked her why she wasn't with the circus folk heading out of town. Her response was that she was "tired of pulling up stakes and forever pitching up tents." Another date was set up after the rather disappointing first one.

When next they met, he came with an ivory colored nightshade. She readily accepted it and the second date went even better than the first. Within two months, a whirlwind romance by earth pony standards, they were married and a year-and-a-half later, Trixie was born. She young unicorn filly was never without the essentials in life nor was she bereft of loving parents. The Lulamoons were never rich but were a long way from destitute. Between her mother's magic skills and her father's tinkering and cobbling business, they all lived rather comfortably.

When she was accepted into Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, her mother was positively delighted! Her father was a little disappointed, though, as he wanted to train his eldest daughter in his trade. That was the only time Trixie had ever hear her parents fight. She still went to Canterlot for school, although when she returned home for summer, she was given training in tinkering and cobbling. (She hated those lessons, but they served her well both on the road and whilst in exile.)

Her education was varied whilst under the tutelage of the finest mages and conjurers of the age, but only once did Trixie regret coming to the school. It was one time, after school, and most of the corridors were deserted for the afternoon. Back then, she had a few good friends and she was invited that afternoon for tea and biscuits by one of her Canterlot friends. On the way to her dormitory, Trixie passed into a hall that was nominally barred from students. It was even believed that that Celestia's Protegé, Twilight Sparkle, wasn't allowed down this corridor. Many of the rooms of this passage were locked, but she noticed one door that was partly open, a steady amber light issuing from within. Curiosity got the better of her, so she peered inside the chamber.

Inside, she saw something that still haunted her. (It was a sight that, while she was adamant to deny, fostered her decision to leave the school. It was also an event that prompted her very first meeting with the Princess of the Sun. ) At the center of the chamber, interdicted by copper, silver, platinum, and lead wires, was a glowing amber crystal floating above a deep, conical pit. Runes of spells and enchantments were either painted or carved into the floor. Trixie had seen such crystals while in class, though most were much smaller; the one she witnessed now was large enough to hold a pony. Indeed, trapped inside the translucent amber facets of the crystal was a young unicorn mare, only a few years older than Trixie was at the time.

The mare's coat was a light amber paired to a mane and tail in vivid crimson with streaks of brilliant yellow. Her cutie mark was of a swirling sun in the colors of her mane. Her cutie mark bore only the slightest resemblance to Princess Celestia's. Whether she was the monarch's daughter or maybe a half sister, Trixie was unsure. To have given such a fate, locked away in a faceted jewel prison, was about as much as Trixie could bear. She would prefer a hanging; it was relatively fast and cheap. Executions were rare in this day and age after Unification, but that didn't mean they didn't happen. One would need to be a traitorous coward or brazen, unrepentant murder to be sentenced to the gallows…

"Lo, who the mighty have fallen," spoke a soft, musical voice behind her, "she would have been the greatest sorceress of her age. Now, she is imprisoned here whilst another has eclipsed her. I may, one day, decide to release her, her time and penance done, but that day has not yet come."

Trixie turned on the spot to see the porcelain coat and aurora-colored mane of Princess Celestia standing behind her.

"Your Majesty!" The future showmare bowed, "I- I was- Trixie was curious as to why this corridor, neigh, this chamber was open and emitting light!"

"It is quite alright, Miss Lulamon," the Princess said, "it is probably best you see this."

"Y-your M-Majesty," Trixie stammered, "wh-who is that, trapped in that crystal c-cocoon?"

With a heavy sigh, the Sun Princess replied, "She was a former student of mine, a promising protegé. She has an incredible gift with magic, but she was impatient-" the Sun Monarch tilts her head slightly to look at the mare's twisted face, "and selfish. She sought to make herself not unlike myself, an alicorn. With such a boon, she wanted to rule, if not a kingdom of her own, then all Equestria. As skillful as she was in the mystic arts, her vanity and hubris were her undoing. She tried to overthrow me, but was ill prepared for my power. She may have had the talent, but she lacked the wisdom or the experience to use it well. I, fortunately, had both. When at least she was defeated, I was given an option: banish her from the realm after snapping her horn off, a death sentence in more ways than one, or encasing her in this geodesic cocoon, interdicted by a magic sink and cordoned off by numerous, high powered wards and bindings. You can see what option I chose."

"A-and the runes? On-on the floor?" Trixie asks.

"An insurance policy," Princess Celestia says, "jinxes designed to countermand any escape. For the last five years, they've held. I see no reason to dispel them."

"You still haven't answered Trixie's question," the younger unicorn stated, "who is she?"

"Her name is Sunset Shimmer," answered the Sun Goddess heavily, "I loved her as she was one of my kindred. She betrayed me for a taste of power… and I was merciful to that mare…".

Trixie would ruminate on Ms. Shimmer's fate for years, even onto today. As boastful and as deceitful as Trixie was in her hayday, she knew she didn't deserve to spend the rest of her natural life bound and warded, encased in a magical gem. The very idea of such imprisonment still sent shivers down her spine… To be separated from the weave and aether like that was a fate worse than death in her mind.

Nostalgia is broken when the express train from Canterlot rolled in. Trixie wasn't going to be on that train; she had seen Canterlot already. The nobles and upper class ponies there mocked her for her earth pony heritage. She would have loved to tell them that any earth pony, even one like that ruffian Applejack of Sweet Apple Acres, was worth more any ten of them combined. So, the showmare watched as various mares and stallions disembarked from the train. Her mirth was stoked by an eager conductor trying to transfer the luggage of one particularly pudgy unicorn mare; she insisted that every article of her matching impedimenta to be brought out at once without damage or delay.

Her mirth was short lived as she caught sight of a being that haunted her nightmares for years on end. A determined unicorn mare trotted past the struggling conductor, almost through the corpulent mare and directly at her. Her purposeful walk parted the crowd like some great, hungry predator. Trixie thought of manticores, timber wolves, dragons, or any number of wild things that eat a pony whole. Her mind races to the incident years ago with the Ursa Minor. That's how this mare moved along the platform, like an an Ursa Minor… The mare stopped within inches of Trixie, then proceeded to rifle through a pair of ill fitting saddle bags for a piece of parchment. The mare read the parchment with a scowl then returned it to her bags.

"Excuse me," the mare asked in a haughty Canterlot accent, "can you tell me where a 'Princess Twilight Sparkle' lives?"

Trixie, frightened out of her wits and a stage shy of catatonic, nods.

"Trixie can- Yes, I can tell you."

The mare looks on as Trixie gathers her nerves.

"F-from here, take this lane here to the end, h-hang a right at the Statue of Kinfolk and at the end of that street, where the houses end, is Golden Oak Library. That's where Tw- uh, Princess Sparkle lives."

"A library?" the mare declaims in frustration, "Nine years; I've been out of touch with the world for nine years and now She has a Princess living in a library? Whatever happened to The Dignity of The Crown?!"

Trixie meekly shrugs and watches the mare walk away, fuming. Never in her life had Trixie been so happy to see the hind end of a mare. Yet, curiosity had its hooks in her again. As uncomfortable as that conversation had been, Trixie had to know, needed to know, who this unicorn was.

"Excuse me," the showmare calls out, watching as the mare in question stops abruptly and turns around, "I never got your name."

"I am Sunset Shimmer," the mare replies, "and I am to be an adjunct to Princess Twilight."

Two weeks ago…

An octet of hooves steadily made their way through the halls of Canterlot palace. The wing they strode down was a cordoned off section that had not seen hide nor hair of anypony in almost a decade. Even with a warm summer breeze pervading the corridor, Princess Luna couldn't quite get the chill running down her spine to subside.

"Praytell, Tia, whatever are we doing here?" The Dark Alicorn asked.

"We're here to meet an old friend," Princess Celestia answered, and even though her voice was light and friendly, there was no disguising the frown that crossed her muzzle.

"You seem distressed, Sister," Luna added, "it is not like you to be so, how it is said, glum, when meeting a friend."

"I know," the lighter alicorn replied, "but this friend is somepony that I- failed."

"Failed?" Luna asked, "Do you mean- like you did with me?"

"In a sense," Celestia said, "but unlike you, she wasn't possessed of her own negative emotions. She was- conceited, avaricious, and ever so impatient. Yet, I do not believe that whatever her mindset, this mare was acting maliciously because she beset by a demonic…"

"Delusion?" Luna reposed, a flicker of shame crawling onto her face. Her sister merely nodded, the Regent of the Sun's eyes firmly closed to hold back tears.

The two marched on, nary a word spoken, until they reached a room in the middle of the hall. A faint glimmer of rose colored light emerged from the chamber, where ruins could be seen edging the portal's frame.

"She's in here," Celestia mumbled, "I pray that this time, she is willing to accept my offer."

Luna's tongue was caught in her mouth. Her sister was being far more cryptic than usual. And given how long she knew Celestia, that was really saying something. She realized the sombre note of these proceedings and elected not to issue a retort . Instead, she watched patiently as Tia's horn begin to emit magic, breaking the seal over the threshold, dissipating the arcane barriers that prevented mundane and curious onlookers from peering inside.

Celesita then walked into the room, Luna flanking her. As the Regent of the Moon peered over the solemn furnishing of the room, the eery chill returned, this time with a vengeance. The floor was covered in sealing runes and wards; an arcane gravity well was set in place in the middle of the room, over which a amber crystal floated in place. The features of the room didn't disturb Luna nearly as much as the pony that was cocooned away inside the crystal itself.

"Who-?" Luna began, as her mind spun up to try to bring itself to some measure of cognitive thought.

"My former student, my greatest failure, second only to you, Dear Sister." Celestia answered, "If she had continued on the course provided, she would be where Princess Twilight now sits in Our Pantheon. Instead-"

"What happened, Tia?" Luna whispered.

"She-" Celestia began, before a saddened hiccup disrupted her, "She was to be my greatest triumph, the newest Princess in Equestria in over a millennium. Well, before Cadence, naturally… She was so gifted, so eager to learn, she practically worshiped me… And- I doted on her like she was of my own blood. Alas, her gaze into The Mirror of Erised was- was fraught with hazards. It awoke a monster within her… She saw what she could become; she found herself enthralled with new ambition. When my methods didn't yield the results she desired…"

"She did as I did, didn't she?" Luna proffered.

Celestia sniffed, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, "Yes, in a way. As you can see, she is a unicorn. She is of some minor house here in Canterlot. gifted, not unlike a certain filly we know… The youngest filly to admitted to my school, before Twilight…"

"Naturally." Luna said, earning a nod from her elder sister.

"She," Tia continued, "she found a tome, one of Starswirl's old journals. Did you know he devised a way to turn an ordinary pony into an alicorn?"

"No," Luna replied, "but it makes sense he would delve into such research. Brilliant as he was, he was always pushing boundaries. Sometimes to the detriment of his fellow ponies."

"Agreed." Tia said, "and this time, to my detriment. She used his spell, became like unto us. She marshaled an army, attempted to wrest the crown from my head. Maybe you can complete the tale?"

"She lost," Luna completed, "she had raw might, but you had ages, neigh, eons of prowess and experience. You bested her in magical combat, didn't you, Sister?"

"Aye," Celestia said, "and for her crimes, she warranted death."

"Or banishment." Luna added ruefully.

"Aye, that, too," Tia continued, "but I had enough sadness from banishing my own sister; I could not and would not suffer another to face such a harrowing experience."

"I'm fine, by the way," Luna remarked, "thanks for asking."

In characteristic giggle, Celestia gave her younger sister a playful glare.

"So, you imprisoned her, in that?" Luna inquired.

"I did," Celestia replied, "not the finest of my hours…"

"And what are we doing here today?" Luna asked, pointing at The Mare Encapsulated in The Gem, "With her?"

"Ah, yes," Tia mused, "Today, we see if my gamble has paid off."

As before, Celestia's horn began to glow. All around, the wards, seals, and other magical controls began to disappear. And, much to Luna's surprise, so did the crystal. She saw the mare within land with a heavy thud to the floor, her coat, mane, and tail matted, bearing the scars and assorted war wounds of her last battle. The mare shivered upon realizing her mode of imprisonment was gone. Luna noted the sense of fear emanating from her…

"Wha-?" moaned the mare, "What's going-?"

The formally captive mare gasped as she saw the two alicorns standing nearby, the darker one with a look of curious pity, the lighter one with a somber, serious hum in her throat.

"Good morning, my former student," Celestia announced, "welcome back to Equestria, Sunset Shimmer."

Okay, that's it! That is the sixth time today the Rainbow Dash has buzzed me today and I have had it! It's bad enough Midway suspended me indefinitely from work pending my apologies to RD. (How in the fuck was I to know that she and him were tight?) Before even that, though, there was the soap opera antics to Rarity while I tried to issue a heartfelt apology about the other day. She was going in extra, extra melodrama mode about the now confirmed rumors of the failed courtship between RD and myself. She wailed on end about how devastating it must have been for a mare of her caliber to be cast off by some hairless monkey.

When I finally did get her calm enough to explain that I was here to apologize for my antics regarding the suit, she didn't want to hear me; she acted like she had ear muffs on her. I gave up trying to explain; she was more furious at me about Rainbow Dash then the suit, although Ms. Sweetmint mentioned that the suit was revised. She couldn't show me the result, on Rarity's orders, so I had to take what Charity said at face value.

Then comes Midway, telling me in an icy voice that I don't have to come in to work today. Then he lays into me for a half hour about commitments and promises. Honestly, I tuned most of it out. I have enough trouble as it is. Then came the Dash Attack. What I wouldn't do for one of those energy shields right now… If this keeps up, Dash is not just gonna knock me over, she's gonna bowl over some innocent bystanders in the process. This needs to end now.

Dash is gearing up for another strafing run. I can't evade her forever… Oh, now there's an idea, I could get her caught in a net. But just where in the Hell am I going to get a net large enough.I guess I could run- Wait… Okay, this is odd. Dash is slowing down. It doesn't look she means to, but… Oh, I get what's happening now! It's the same effect I used on Trixie, where I experience time slowing down for me. Is this- No, it can't be. Am I wielding magic?!

No time for that now, Dash is in hot pursuit. Too bad I don't have a cage- Can you feel the weave? Huh? What was that? Can. You. Feel. The. Weave? Uh, I'm gonna go with yes? Imagine your spell and what it does. See it, feel it, than pull it from the aether. That is the mark of a true Archmage. Okay, okay, whatever you say, creepy, disembodied voice.

So I need a cage, or a trap. Maybe a net? Let me think- Do I want a a Predator style net? Nah, that would be gruesome. I need something that stop Dash from flying into me without breaking all the bones her body. Wait, weave? I think I can work with this. Okay, it's like the pot holders I used to make back in Bible Summer Camp. Under, over, under, over, loop. A weave!

Yes, exactly. Now, can you feel the aether? Can you manipulate it?

I can try… Hmm, this is curious. I never noticed this airy, silvery stuff before. It's not really cold or hot. It's just kinda- there. Is that the aether? It is. Now, can you pull at it? By George, I think I can! Alright, gotta weave this stuff. Man, Dash sure is taking her time. She's been flapping that wing for God know how lon- Hold a mo. That wing is still coming down. She hasn't moved an millimeter since this weird freak out began. And- what? Is Dash- crying? Damn it all if she ain't! Wow, she has a face full of rage, and eyes filled with tears! Archmage, you need to focus. Oh, yeah-

Ah, yeah, one weaved net of aether! If I planned this right, the net will lock onto Dash's hooves and trap her, allowing me to get away. I don't know how long the spell will last, but it should keep her occupied for a while. The spell will hold as long you keep it in mind. It can be dismissed only when you desire. That's a good bit of leeway. Thanks! Alright, let me see if I give this alacrity effect a bit of slack. Yeah, there we are. Dash is now moving at roughly three-quarters speed… My aether net is primed to capture her. She's barreling right for me but she doesn't seem the least bit concerned that she's going to knock me down. Wait, spoke to soon, her face gets a quizzical look on it despite the tears…

"Gotcha!" I exclaim.

"Hey, what? Whad'ja'do? Let me down!" Rainbow Dash squawks.

The two of us are in the market square and ponies everywhere are giving us the stink eye. Best to take this elsewhere.

"Are you gonna let me down, or what?" Dash growls.

"Or what," I answer, "you and me need to talk."

Struggling in a net she can't see and thrashing all around, Dash says, "We can talk right here!"

"Nah," I counter, "I want someplace quiet."

"All right," Dash seethes, "where're we goin'?"

I need a minute to formulate a response to this. There aren't that many places in Ponyville that a body can have a private conversation. There were very few outside of Ponyville, too. So where does that leave us? Wait, I know!

"Esmer?" I call.

"You rang?" Esmer calls deeply, then giggling, "I've always wanted to do that!"

"Addams Family, nice!" I exclaim, "Esmer, can you get Dash and myself over to Sweet Apple Acres, over by the the Crusaders Clubhouse?"

"Can do, boss!"

"Get ready for jump," I start, "Esmer, was that you telling me about the aether and the weave and everything?"

"I don't think so, boss," Esmer says, "I was doing routine maintenance checks."

"Well, yeah, that makes sense," I muse, "the voice I heard has a deeper registry, very masculine."

"EXCUSE ME?!" rasps RD, "you mind tellin' me what we're doin'?"

"Neutral ground," I retort, "Esmer, if you please?"

"You got it, Boss! CON-TACT!"

Good news about these new skills I've devised/learned/come into: getting warp zoned doesn't dispel them. According to the voice that spoke to me, I could undo the weave with but a though. But first, I wanted to experiment a little. While Dash is thrashing about in my aether net, yes, I went there, I begin pulling the threads of the weave. The strands respond less to my touch than they do my thoughts. So when I think that a certain strand needs to pull to the right, it pulls to the right. I can be totally hand free with this if I so chose. So awesome…! with Dash captive in my net, I can pull strands hither and thither and her limbs are given no choice to be obey the weave as it pulls, pushes, expands and contracts. The heady feeling of control is starting to me lightheaded…

"Dash-" I say to the thrashing Pegasus, but she's a flurry of activity that is several decibels louder than I can manage to shout, "Dash-" She utters a few choice Equish swears pass through her lips. "Dash-!" Still nothing.

"RAINBOW PRISM DASH!"

Holy fuck! That was LOUD! That was- was- I think the only equivalent is the Royal Canterlot Voice. Whatever it was, it's got Dash's attention. (And a trickle of fright, I may add, too.)

"I'm gonna set you down now," I explain, manipulating the weave to set her upright on all four hooves, "if you promise, and it better be a Pinkie Promise, that you won't attack me again, then I'll let you go. Crystal?"

"Crystal," Dash replies, her voice a mere whisper of it's normal tomboy swagger, "I cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

I nod, and dismiss the weave; the silvery vapor only I can see evaporates into nothing.

"So, this is about last night," I begin.

"Don't," Dash growls venomously, "I don't wanna remember."

"Fuck that," I spit, "we're talking about this. I don't know if you remember, but I told you that I wasn't completely enthused with this herd idea. I'm pretty sure I made that abundantly clear last night."

Dash gives me a querulous look; she isn't having this this afternoon.

"Okay, I should have handled things better than I did. I was a complete asshole for storming off like that, I get it. But from what I learned this morning, Flutters needed me. She- she had a flashback to something terrible last night while you and I were- or at least tried to, in any case, start. Like you, there's no way I would abandon a friend, even though I pretty much did that to you. My only excuse is that I love Fluttershy and I couldn't in any conscience let her face this trauma by herself. I know this a roundabout way of saying this, but I'm sorry."

Dash is still looking querulous; nothing I've said has made an impact.

"Oh, is that what it is?" Dash retorts, "Perfect Little Fluttershy, who is oh so helpless and oh so darling needs her big, strong hooman to help her out. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, pouring my heart out to some insensitive idiot who can't even see I'm head-or-hooves in love with him!"

Oh, goddamnit, Dash…

"Are you jealous of Flutters, Dash?" I ask.

"OF COURSE I'M JEALOUS!" screams the prismatic Pegasus bitterly, "I'm not that one that every stallion in town ogles at every time I set hoof in town! I'm not that one that every mare in Equestria wants to emulate! I'm not a former fashion model admired by even the most popular of supermodels, Fleur-De-Lis! I'm just Rainbow Dash, the hard bodied, death defying, utterly amazing stunt mare that not even the WONDERBOLTS would take a second glance at! Heck, even Rarity got more attention to me when she had those gossamer wings!! So why wouldn't I be jealous when my very best friend has the stallion that I love. It's not like any stallion would have me anyway…"

"Well, that- that cuts right to the middle of it," I say, "Dash, ugh, you are, most likely, the single most amazing entity I've ever encountered. And I've met with Lady Celestia and Lady Luna, so that should tell you something. I don't- quite understand why you seem so bent over me. I honestly don't get it. Yet, I don't think you understand just how hard I work to keep in Fluttershy's good graces and how often I find myself frustrated to no end because of her compassionate nature. But that what draws me to her in the first place: she's everything I am not. You- You are too much like me, in quite a few respects. If we were to get together I'm betting we'd be at wits end by the end of a week, let alone a month."

"But-" I cut Dash off, because she is almost beyond seeing; her obsession over me is that strong.

"Okay, admittedly, Flutters and I look good. On paper. I gotta tell you though, we do have our fair share of arguments. They're usually fairly quiet and none of the furniture gets bandied about, but they happen."

"Oh, yeah," Dash challenges, "name one."

"I can name several," I reply, "but I'm going to give the biggest I can think of and it happened only just a few day ago."

I explain that Flutters and I were feeding the chickens that morning. It was a warm and sunny Tuesday, if memory serves me right. We were laughing it up a bit, and enjoying each other's company, and the chickens antics, that we didn't notice how quiet it had gotten near the Everfree. When we did notice, we also paid heed to the lack of other animals nearby; they seemed to have fled for cover. That's when Flutters paled in fright and when I looked here she did, so did I.

Standing at the fringe of Flutters property, foam dripping from lethal fangs, stood a cyclone of manticores. There were tow large males and slender female, who was storm leader, by the looks of things. With Flutters and I the largest targets in sight and the chicken coop behind us, the manticores were looking at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Flutters backed away towards the coop, barricading herself against the entrance. She gave a small trill and a puma, whose name I later learned was Katherine, and Fluttershy's ursine pal, Harry, emerged from the other side of the clearing. They took in the sight of the manticores and while looking scared, dove forward and engaged the two males.

The female advanced on us, a ravenous growl coming from it's open maw. I didn't have the brute strength of a bear or the claws of a puma, but I did have the barrier shield, if I could deploy it, to defend against this creature. I felt a rush of power, different from any time I found the shield erected before, course through me. With the shield up, the manticore was denied it's choice of appetizers; it's entree was putting up greater resistance that anticipated. The puma and Harry were holding their own against the others in the cyclone, but that soon changed.

The female 'core bellowed, something akin to a train whistle through an amplifier, and the cyclone regrouped. This time, the largest of the males took on Harry and the puma, while the female and the smaller male advanced. They rushed past me, in my surprise my shield failed, and the slipped past heading for Fluttershy. I felt lost, hopeless. Here were two beasts that Flutters had encountered before, but her stare was failing now. These were not the manticores she had seen before; these monsters were out for blood.

Cadavera Ardevarda… I heard, rend from flesh and make undone…

I don't know why I heard that voice, which was even more of a whisper than Flutters normal speaking voice, or what spirit possessed me to even think of casting with those words, but all though was driven from me by the advancing manticores on My Butterfly…

"Cadavera Ardevarda!!" I shouted.

The larger male stopped when I bellowed. Then it- shrank, like it was getting hollowed out where it stood. Then it- then it erupted into a claret geyser. Minuscule pieces of the body fell down, a claw, the stinger, an ear, a fang, then there wasn't a manticore anymore. The female stopped her charge and turned on heel. Seeing her pack mate obliterated, she then scrambled to me to rend me limb from limb. Yeah, that was happening…

"Cadavera Ardevarda!!" I bellowed again. Once more, the creature shrank, then detonated into a fountain of blood and giblets. I was very humorlessly reminded of the computer game, Doom, especially when the chainsaw was in use against the Hellions of Io. The last standing member of the cyclone paused, looking at the scene before him. A lone human, with naught but a word, destroyed his pack leader and wingman. Even though he held off a bear and a puma, this was too much for the beast. It broke the engagement and turned tail, bounding in overwatch towards the Everfree. I think I saw the lug tuck his stinger between his legs…

Fluttershy, incomprehensible about this all, then rushed to aid her two animal defenders. Harry had taken a stinger to his arm. Thankfully, the manticore wasn't pushing any venom; Harry was exhausted, but fine by all accounts. The puma Katherine was in a worse state, but overall fared better in the fight. She took a paw to the ribs, and a trio of claw marks seeped blood. She, too, was exhausted by the fight; her tawny coat glistened with sweat. After attending to her companions, Flutters then rounded on me. She wanted to know what I did and what happened to her attackers. I did my best to explain but I didn't much understand it myself, so I could only offer a hypothesis.

This did not please My Butterfly in the least. She railed against me for hours, letting me know in no uncertain terms that I was not allowed to such things, even if it was perceived that her life was endanger. She couldn't believe I would be so heartless as to destroy those manticore, but no amount of reasoning persuaded Flutters. Even in the face of certain death, Fluttershy shows kindness… It was our most tense argument to date. Eventually, Fluttershy forgave me. She had to thank me for saving her life, once again. And, ah, the sex! You don't even wanna know…

Rainbow was still miffed when I finished. I could see in the glint of her eyes that was still fuming and was determined to win this game, even if it wasn't a game neither Flutters or myself wanted to play.

"You say that, Steve," Dash warned, "but it doesn't matter. I'm never gonna give you up."

Inwardly, I groaned; if she continued with "never gonna let you down," I was gonna get the Equestrian version of Rickrolling. She didn't, but the thought wouldn't leave my mind ever after she took off. I walked back to town in a dour mood. Of course, this being Ponyville (quite possibly the largest little town in the known Universe), rumors spread about the failed menage-a-trois. As I passed by the Boutique to check on my suit, I was forced to listen as Rarity had some rather choice words for her spa mate. The weren't all ladylike words, either. (At least my suit was looking better. I caught a glimpse of it when Rarity wasn't looking. The slacks were still too short, but the shoulders in the jacket were back to a more normal look.)

Arguably, Rarity is one of the prettiest mares, and to some the prettiest, in Ponyville, if not elsewhere. As Rarity vented her considerable spleen about my "deplorable actions" with Rainbow Dash, she just happened to mention the herd. I cringed as she let her unfavorable opinion of that out, unknowingly allowing a certain mulberry drake to listen in. When I saw him, his face drooped in despair before turning to me and giving my the most vile look he could muster. Before Rarity finished her rant, he stomped out of the Boutique. I made to chase after him, but the fashionista bodily checked me to the floor so she could continue to rage against me.

I'd like to say the next few days were better, but admittedly, they were most certainly not. I got glares, angry leers, grimaces of uttermost contempt- and those were the nicer ponies. I actually got chased away from Roseluck's both while trying to get some pansies for Flutters garden. My only solace in this mess was Applejack, who should have been more sympathetic than most. Unfortunately, I hadn't seen her most of the week and Big Mac, when he caught sight of me, decided my business wasn't worth it and refused to sell me any apples without a ridiculous amount of markup. I left the market that day empty handed.

The worst didn't come until today when Dash, keeping to her promise, dived bombed me as I was walking down Stirrup Road. It was strangely fitting that Fanny Lu's No Tu Eres Para Me was pumping from my earphones. Even stranger, during the song, the whole town acted out various bits from the song and even sang some of it. I'm pretty sure Fanny Lu isn't a household name here on Terra Firme, but Ponyvillians belted out the tune with no trouble whatsoever. They even performed a dance number at the bridge that I was forced to perform alongside in an impromptu disguise. I swear, by all things bright, the whole town was going to go Bollywood or Bust on me. She still spots me, so I said a quick prayer to Our Blessed Lady of Acceleration to not fail me now. The song ended, as did the musical number, when I reached my loft at Sweet Apple Acres and bolted shut the door, keeping Rainbow Dash out.

Exhausted as I am now, I couldn't rest. I was frustrated, I was ostracized, and I was turned into a pariah. My own damn fault really. I should have never allowed Dash to get that far so quickly… Hey, did I just see Applejack? I'm pretty sure that was Ay Jay. Applebloom shares her sister's coat, but her mane is a shock of scarlet; Ay Jay's mane is a tumble of blonde tresses. She sounds- upset. I wonder what's wrong.

I have to- No, wait, you don't have to do anything, boyo. Your Black Irish ass should just set her and wallow in you misery. You should- Damn. Well, it is said that misery loves company. Okay, I'm unbolting the door now… Need to make a quick check that Dash is waiting to ambush me. Okay, I don't see a rainbow hued mane or tail from the clouds above and I definitely don't detect that smell of curry and paprika in the air. And now that I listen closely, I hear feminine sobbing and not the kind Dash does. Now where is it coming from? It's not here up at the homestead… Hmm, it sounds like coming from the Southfold of the orchard. I'll check there.

Why are there so many trees?! Oh, wait, this is an apple orchard! Gadoy! The sobbing is louder here. Now I just need to source it. The trees ain't helping much; they make a perfect auditory baffle. And considering my quarry is a pony, that means the sound is supposed to come from the ground, but the trees make it sound like it's coming from all directions.

I don't know where I'm going. The orchard is dense with apple trees; finding a lone mark without a map is nigh impossible. I should just- no, wait, I see her! Whoa-! Who up and killed Applejack's dog? (I know the name of the pooch; she's called Winona. It's just an expression.) I don't think I've ever seen Applejack so downhearted before. From the tears cascading down her muzzle, you think she just been told she has cancer and has than a week to live.

"Ay Jay?" I call out.

"Huh," the apple farmer starts, "oh, Steve, I didn't see ya there."

I tilt my head in confusion.

"Sorry ya saw me like this," she explains, "I just- I just ain't had the best day, is all."

"Well," I begin, "if by the best day you mean you just found out that you lost something most precious to you, then I'd hate to see a bad day."

Ay Jay sniffled, apparently ill at ease with whatever was eating her up.

"I-" Ay Jay starts, "I don't know what ya'll talkin' 'bout."

"Really, Ay Jay?"

Ay Jay, as strong mentally as she is physically, looks like she's about to burst into a fountain of tears. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but my friend is hot mess and is in need of comfort. She turns to me with eyes fit to burst.

"Steve, do ya think I'm purty?" Ay Jay queries.

"I'd say you be fetching, yeah," I answer, "why do ya ask?"

Ay Jay stops and starts, her mouth opening but no sound comes forth. Then just breaks down. She wails the way of the damned. I bend to my knees, taking the weeping mare into my arms. She takes to me, lowering her muzzle into my right shoulder and sobbing to no end. My prompts to tell me what's wrong go unanswered for a long while.

"He called me a skinny, colt-tease, no flank whorse," Ay Jay finally admitted, "he left me for some high falootin', chunky little filly at his f'vr'te bar. Can ya believe it?"

"Just who're we talkin' 'bout here?" I ask.

"Lone Star," Ay Jay says, "Lone Star done up an'-" then the weeping starts again.

Christ, this is about as bad as when Flutters was crying the other night. She was having a PTSD episode; Ay Jay here sounds like she got dumped. And to think I actually liked that colt…

"Ay Jay," I call; the farmer is still crying, "Jackie, listen to me."

The gamboge Earth mare finally starts sobbing. Her eyes are swimming in unshed tears, and her voice, well, it was as steady as a painter can mixer set on high.

"Y-yeah?"

"I don't think I should tell you just how many stallions in town are watching you as walk about town. I think only Fluttershy gets as much male attention. Now mind you, the selection and quality here is pretty damn low. You'd have a better chance of getting a good stallion if you left for Zebrica, like now."

Ay Jay giggles a bit at this, even though the smile on her face doesn't necessarily reach her eyes, "Yeah, I guess yer right."

"You're a good mare, Applejack Apple," I continue, "You're honest, hard working, and easy to get along with. You know these things. You're also damn cute, if I do say so myself. It takes a strong mind, and a strong heart, to continue a family business the way you do. And I've never seen a family as strong knit as yours. That says something about you that can't be put into words easy. So what if Lone Star can't see what I see. Hell, you're the best thing to ever happen to him and if he can't see that, well he and prairie dogs got something in common: they're both blind!"

"Aw, yer just saying that," Ay Jay laments, "I ain't nothin' special."

"You know," I scoff, "for the Element of Honesty, you sure don't know the truth about yerself. Jackie, you are a beautiful mare, inside and out. Don't you ever forget that."

Ay Jay looks at me like I have an extra pair of ears, then smiles, a wide, genuine smile. She then nuzzles into my chest, tears of joy spilling on her cheeks.

34 An Apple Blossom Faire

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Fluttershy's Menagerie

It took a while to get Applejack into some semblance of emotional stability. It's a sad thing to see such a wonderful mare look so heartbroken. I made up my mind while I explained the situation to Granny Smith and Big Mac what I was going to do. As Jackie sat on her haunches, bawling away, I swore to myself I was find Lone Star and beat him to within an inch of his life! That's why now, I'm over at Fluttershy's place. That fucker almost did me in…!

Let me explain: My first stop after consoling the farmpony was Berryshine's Cantina, a popular watering hole for Ponyvillle's male population. It's a big place, with lot's of glow crystals throwing enough glare to give Las Vegas a run for its money. There were carts parked up to hitching posts that stood out front of the bar; several more were parked along the side alleys on both sides. A small dumpster was overflowing with liquor bottles and used food wrappers. Most of these look to be a few days old.

Inside the cantina, it's slightly more cheery. There's an old school jukebox blaring some sort cacophony of noise; pool tables line the east most wall. There are booths along the western wall and in the middle is a fair sized dance floor. Prowling the tables scattered at the edge of the dance floor are serving mares in what I can only describe as "scantily clad." (Even though I've seen some of the girls at drive-thru beer runs prance around with less, these are ponies we're talking about here. It makes it even stranger to see mares walking about in stuff a stripper would think of as work wear.) The place reminds me of a honky tonk, but with fewer rednecks.

I no sooner take in the scene when a cute little thing in a frilly cowgirl skirt scots up to me. She has an earnest, if practiced smile, on her face and her eyes look up to me without much of the fright some ponies give me. The earth pony mare is balancing a serving tray on her back; the appliance is already half way full with empty beer mugs and wash rags.

"Anything I can get ya, hun?" she asks sweetly.

"Nothin' for me, thanks," I reply, "unless ya know where I can find some fella by the name o' Lone Star."

The mare's look darkens, then she says, "That jackass? Why're lookin' fer him? He a friend o' yers? He owe ya some bits?"

"He hurt one o' my friends," I reply, "he owes me some pain, with interest."

The mare gives me an appraisal, scanning up and down my body. Maybe she was trying to see if I was hideous as the rumors say or if I was tough enough to do what needed to be done. In any case, her look softens and her stance, which had gone rigid, loosens.

"If'n yer look fer Star," she says, "he ain't come in yet. Give 'im fifteen minutes or so. He usually comes in after messin' 'bout with his filly."

"Applejack?" I query.

"Nah," the mare answers, "some sweet thang that goes by Shimmer Star. She's been 'round the block, ya see. I ain't one to say nothin' nice about a pony, but she's seen some miles, I tell ya what."

So this Shimmer Star is like a bus; everyone's rode her. So why in the buck did Lone Star leave Applejack for her?

"Thanks, miss," I say, tipping my hat, "I think I'll have set a spell with 'Shine. I ain't eaten yet, and maybe she has some vittles I can nosh on."

"Sure," the mare says, "Berry is tendin' bar this evenin'. She be obliged for some comp'ny that ain't hittin' on her."

As I walk towards the bar, I hear the mare call out behind me, "The name is Cinnamon Bun, if'n ya need me."

Heh, cute. She even has a cinnamon bun cutie mark. Dude, I got an Adventure Time flashback… I saunter to the bar, seeing a good acquaintance manning the bar. Berryshine knows I'm a teetotaler, so she keeps some non-alcoholic drinks on hand if ever I show up, which isn't often. Already, she has a cool glass prepped and a soda spritzer ready for me.

"Hiya, Steve," Berryshine greets, "a splash of soda for ya?"

"Actually, yeah," I say, "I got a feeling I'm gonna need it."

"Rough day, eh?" Shine says.

"You have no idea," I reply, "and the day ain't even over."

Berry slides my soda to me; I finish it in one. She has a refill before I can ask for it. We spend the next ten minutes or so talking about, well, nothing really. She already has a good idea why I'm here. She saw Lone Star in here the other night with a new filly on his withers. She and Ay Jay are tight but she has no love for the Shimmer bitch. Berry let me know that if I want to fight, she and her staff aren't gonna intervene; she does warn me, though, that Star is a tough one. She's pretty sure he can take me in a fight.

A moment or two after that bit of foreboding, the door to the cantina opens up and in steps Lone Star. The filly that he comes with has the look of a gold digger and a butter face to match. What Star could see in her, I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that he threw away a good mare for some uppity cocktease and that failing alone is gonna earn him a medium sized set of lumps.

"Howdy ya'll!" the stallion shouts, "how ya'll today?"

Most of the responses are genial and a few more than cordial, especially amongst the mares. Shimmer looks murderous that such a reply could be made to her stallion; Star seems oblivious. The couple sidle up to the bar a few stools down from mine. I've got my fourth glass of soda in me by now and a seething hatred is burning me up inside. Worse still, he and his gold digger fillyfriend are canoodling like crazy. I'm all for PDA but this shit is over the top…

"Hey, lookit this!" Star cries out, "if it ain't Steve! Whatcha doin' here, man?"

I turn on my stool to look at him and the nauseating filly with him. "Actually, I'm here fer you," I tell him, "I got some words fer ya, about Applejack."

"Applejack?" Star asked, "That old nag? What 'bout her?"

I look over Star to Shimmer and she gives a querulous stare.

"I hear tale you broke her heart," I explain, "traded down, from what I see."

Both Star and Shimmer glare at me; I guess I just said some fighting words.

"Hmph! Cry me a river," Star decrees, "the nag is just upset that she can't keep up like a filly. Don't go blamin' me fer that mare's faults; she's the one with hardly any hips to her."

Okay, that was too much. I'm not gonna let this defamation of a good friend stand. As in earlier in this day, I can see the aether form all around me. The weave is wrapping around Lone Star, forming a kind of sling. I don't know if I'm doing that consciously or not, but it's a mild curiosity. It serves the purpose I have for the effect. Star is still talking, so he doesn't see what's coming until it's too late. The whole bar loses their shit when Star goes careening for the door, untouched by hands or hoof.

"Don't worry, 'Shine," I say, as Berryshine rises from underneath the bar, "I'm taking this outside."

I grab Lone Star, who's still trapped in the weave, and carry him out the door. He's still trapped in my weave, though he's thrashing about wildly. He's cursing up a storm, too. He'll be cursing more before I'm done with him.

I step out the door of the cantina and toss Lone Star unceremoniously from the weave. He tumbles, ass-over-teakettle, on the gravel parking lot; he finally corrects himself after three consecutive rolls. He's breathing ragged and his eyes are filled with rage. He paws a forehoof along the gravel, readying a charge. I already have my alacrity charm in place, just so I know the odds are even. It's my understanding that of all the pony tribes, Earth ponies are the quickest on land and the strongest on their hooves. I think only alicorns have more per-pound muscle but that's also backed up by higher magical reserves.

Star rushes me, and even with my charm in place, he's moving faster than I can handle. The crown of his head strikes me in the shins; I go down, hard, but I'm back up as he rounds on me. He takes another charge but as he reaches me, I drop into a crouch before releasing a double fisted haymaker. The shot connects to his jaw, sending spittle from his mouth in a high arc, and his body lifts from the ground. Before he has a chance to land, I get back into a crouch before sweeping his legs from underneath him. The effect of the leg sweep sends him spinning before he crash lands.

Nominally, this should have been enough to end a fight. Lone Star, though, is no stranger to brawls, and is back on his hooves before I can recover. This time, he leaps onto my chest, launching vicious punches to my face; my glasses break as he throws his jabs. On the fourth, or maybe it was the fifth, jab, I rear back my head and headbutt him. In the movies back home, this seems like a highly effective means to stun an opponent. In real life, it just hurts, a lot.

Star isn't even dazed; he rears back on his forelegs and bucks me straight to the chest. If my head wasn't hurting before, it must definitely is now. I see stars swimming in my vision as Star prepares to buck me again. This time though, I get a second wind and, I shit you not, perform a wheel kick, followed by a roundhouse kick that sends Star flying into the cantina façade. Another wheel kick plants him against the wall but before he can slide down. A left cross, a right cross, and an uppercut assail his muzzle. Several teeth and strings of claret flew as each blow lands.

The uppercut knocks out Star for the count; I'm breathing heavy and begin to wonder where all the kung fu shit came from. Back home, I was never that well coordinated; I couldn't even do a handstand, let alone a cartwheel. The shit I did this evening was the sort of stuff Jason Statham and Jet Li are known for doing. It was at this moment that I noticed the crowd gathered around us. Several geezers in the throng were exchanging bits; they may have bet on the winner of the fight. Berryshine is looking at me with a measure of reservation and relief. Maybe cleaning Lone Star's clock was a bad idea…

"Okay, everypony," I announce, "shows over. Come on now, this is a fist fight not a rodeo."

After dumping Star's sorry ass back into his cart (with a murderous Shimmer Star cursing a storm at me) I lurch my way back to Flutters place. My face is bruised and my chest aches from getting hammered by a pair of Earth pony hooves, but I have defended the honor of a good friend. That'll be my good deed for the day…

I was sore for a few days after. My body isn't really all that athletic, so pulling stunts like that night has really strained my muscles. Thankfully, Fluttershy has been keeping me well rested and providing what comfort she can. Presently, she has herself impaled on my erection and is shimmying up and down it. (Sexual healing, For the Win!) I've been told this is called Dolphin style, though I'm not sure why. I guess Cowgirl Style wouldn't make much sense among ponies… The way Fluttershy does it is- well, it's more sensual than I've ever seen it. My Butterfly kinda rolls on top of me, my pride buried deep within her, and she uses her Kegel muscles to do most of the action. She thrums in a way that is both pleasurable and alluring. It won't be long now before I climax…

Oh, by all things bright, is that a good feeling! My Butterfly is gasping as her orgasm rips through her; I've just climaxed as well. Every twitch of my pride is filling her belly with my warm seed… Hell, I can even feel my testes vibrating by how much ejaculate is coming out. Flutters is quaking on top of me from her most intense orgasm yet. That's the second one she's had this session… Wait, did she just-? Damn, Butterfly, you just came all over me…

"Sorry," she whispers, "that hasn't happened in a long time."

I'm still collecting myself here, "That's okay, My Butterfly. That just tells me how much you enjoyed yourself. Nothing broken, nothing bleeding."

She smiles even as she wiggles herself atop of me; the sensation through her love canal is one of pure bliss.

"I don't know," I gasp, "whatever I did to deserve you, but I will endeavor to never take you for granted."

We share a tender kiss; I put in a lot of emotions I'm sure will resonate even without words.

"I love you, Stevie," Fluttershy whispers, "and I don't deserve you, considering how selfish I am."

"Nonsense, Butterfly," I retort, "you give of your kindness many times over. You, too, deserve some kindness, don't you?"

"Mhmm."

*Knock! Knock! Knock!*

Fluttershy and I look to the door. Just who in the Hell could calling on us at this hour? If it's Lone Star, then I'm gonna have to beat him within an inch of his life. He is not gonna harm Flutters, not if I have a say in anything. Flutters dismounts me, my softening pride making that a much easier thing to do. She has some jizz running down her leg; I'm sure she feels it. Maybe that's why she stops to rub her hindquarters on a nearby towel. As she approaches the door, I set to getting some clothes on. I know these ponies are perfectly happy strutting about in their coats and not much else, but I didn't get a fancy fur coat.

"Oh, hello, Big Mac!"

I look at the door; sure as not, there's the red stallion himself in the doorway.

"Miss Fluttershy," he says, his deep baritone slightly muffled by the bow he takes, "I was wonderin' if'n Mr. Steve were here. I have somethin' to ask o' 'im and timin' is o' th' essence."

"Oh, yes," Flutters answers, "Stevie's here. Would you like to come in?"

"Much obliged," Mac says as he walks on in. He sits down on the floor in front of the couch Flutters and I were using for our afternoon tryst; thankfully, I'm as fully dressed as I can be, although I have no idea were Fluttershy threw my boxer-briefs.

I greet Mac with a "Where you at?"

He replies in the usual way, "What it is." and offers a hoof to bump, so I bump it. Even though he wears a smile on his face, I can see that Big Mac is a little nervous. I wonder why?

"So," I start, "what's got you so far away from The Acres?"

With a slight drop of sweat coursing down his forehead, Mac begins, "I, uh, I need to ask ya fer a favor or two, Steve. They're, uh, they're both kinda personal."

"Okay," I say, "what kinda favors are we talking about here?"

"Well," Big Mac starts, "I , uh, I- This is embarrassin'… You know my sister, right?"

"Older or Younger?" I ask.

"Older, Applejack," Mac says, "she, uh, well, you done helped her out with this Lone Star business. SHe appreciates that mightily. But, uh, you see- Dang, this is gonna be hard- Ya see, she uh, ya see- She- She's in estrus, again."

"Wait, what?!" I start.

"She, uh, she's in estrus. An earlier one than normal. Typically, her cycles follow the mares in town, but this one kinda surprised us. Bloom is haftin' to help out while Jack is- indisposed of. I can't even got t' my room 'cause she'll smells me passin' and then she tries to rut me through the door!"

"And that just won't do." I declare.

The stallion nods, "Worse, my room is up the hall from hers. I've hadta sleep on the couch downstairs for the last few days."

"How do you know she's in heat?" Fluttershy asks, startling the Earth pony.

"It's, uh, it's the smell," Big Mac explains, "Granny Smith picked up the day after Steve trounced on Lone Star. That's why I need this favor of ya."

"Okay," I say, "what's the favor, again?"

"I hear tale that you can, uh, plow your seed without anythin' growin'." Big Mac answers.

Flutters and I share a concerned look. When she was last in estrus during The Week, she and I had sex. Normally, amongst ponies, this should have gotten My Butterfly pregnant. We only did that one time while she was fertile; every time afterward, she's been her normally sweet, lucid (yet sexy) self. I'm human, also, so maybe I don't carry enough chromosomes to properly fertilize a pony germ cell. I'd have to ask Twilight about that. This begs the question, how did Mac know of this?

"Uh, yeah, that's true enough," I say, "though how you heard that is actually rather concerning for me. For Fluttershy too, I bet." My Butterfly nods at this, wearing a blush in her cheeks and worry in her face.

"I ain't sure it matters," Mac continues, "because Applejack needs yer help. She ain't any good in this state and 'cause Lone Star ain't 'round, she's being a mite o' trouble to deal with. So, and I wish I didn't hafta ask this, but could you- rut my sister?"

I look to Fluttershy; I'd rather have her give me permission to do this, but I suspect she hate'd this scenario if it played out. Given what happened with Ar Dee, mating with another mare would probably upset My Butterfly to no end.

"I dunno, Biggie," I respond, "that's a tall order to place. Fluttershy and I need to discuss this. I mean, if I could help in any way, I would, but this is- This is weighty situation, with alot of variables and a good mare's heart on the line. Ay Jay's still kinda broken up over Star; I suspect that if I were to try anything, she'd knock me ass-over-teakettle."

"Well, ya'll think about it," Big Mac says, "ya still got some time. The last one o' these she got, back 'fore she was an Element Bearer, that one lasted nearly two weeks. Time is kinda a factor, mind… Anyway, the other thing I want talk 'bout is Rainbow Dash."

"Ar Dee?" I ask, "Dude, are you gonna lay into me like everypony else has? Cause if you are, I can tell you here and now that I'm done discussing-"

"That ain't what I came to talk 'bout," Mac cuts in, "I was, uh, I was wonderin'. Ya know, strictly hypothetical an' all, but, do ya think Rainbow Dash would, uh, date a stallion like me?"

Flutters and I share an incredulous look. Is this was what the second favor is about?

"It's possible," I reply, "I mean, Dash looks for the best. Near as I can tell, both you and I are most eligible bachelors in town. Although, with the news about the other day out and about, you're now king of the mountain. Any single mare in town should be coming for you. I'm pretty sure Dash fits into that category."

"Okay," Big Mac says, "then, uh, could ya ask her if she, uh, would like me to take her on a date. Or somethin'…"

"Macintosh Apple," I start, "are you telling me you're sweet on a certain prismatic, Pegasus mare?"

BigMac just nods.

"Well, I think we can help you out there, Big Mac." Fluttershy adds, "I don't see any problem with a handsome stallion like yourself going out with Rainbow Dash. Do you, Stevie?"

"No, I don't," I admit, "might even calm her down some."

"Thank ya both so kindly," Mac says, "now, if'n you'll pardon me, I still got chores to do back at the farm. Steve, Miss Fluttershy."

And with that, Big Mac is out the door.

For a while after Big Mac left, Flutters and I debated whether we should help out Applejack with her- problem. Even though Ay Jay was at the bottom of the short list of potential herd mates, I think Fluttershy thinks she'd be an excellent addition. I think she also hopes that her foalhood trauma doesn't rear it's ugly head again if we continue to build the herd. I still have reservations and I let My Butterfly know them; she told me that it's perfectly normal for a stallion to be a bit shy about forming a herd. She even anticipated it! As soft spoken as Flutters is, she has a shrewd mind. Man, I am head-over-heels about her now…

Today is Wednesday. Fluttershy usually heads into town to collect a bulk parcel of birdseed at the town post office. She typically goes out alone, but the heat from the Rainbow Dash incident hasn't died down yet. That's why Flutters was so amorous with me the day before; all those nasty comments and filthy looks made her feel useless and ugly. She wanted reassurance from her stallion that she was pretty. I was more than happy to oblige.

Ponyville is the same as always, even though the two of us are getting our fair share of evil eyes. Flutters looks pensive as we walk through the crowd to the post office. I keep a hand hand in her mane to let her know I'm not going anywhere. Ah, there's the post office now. I can see the official Ponyville Postal Service cap on several mares coming out of the building. Derpy, in the air for her usual route, waves as she passes overhead. At least she's still happy to see us… Hey, hold a mo. Is that Shimmer Star? What is she doing here?

"There he is," the mare says, "hey, monkey! Do you seriously think you can get away with hurting my stallion?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I quip, "your name is-?"

The Earth pony mare in question growls, "The name is Shimmer Star and my stallion is Lone Star. You hurt him real bad the other night. Now I come to mess you up, real good!"

The aether answers me again, showing me where it lies in relation to everything around me. Should I post a shield? Maybe a net would make for an better defense. No, I got it, a wall! It'd like to see this bitch buck through a wall made of the weave… Wait-a-minute, what the buck is Fluttershy doing?

"I'm sorry, but did you say that your stallion couldn't even defend himself from my stallion?" Wow, Flutters says that with an inflection that just oozes power and sex!

"No," Shimmer Star retorts, "I'm saying he hurt my Star, and I'm gonna pound in his monkey-bucking head!"

"Oh, really," Fluttershy replies, "and what makes you think I'll let you?"

"'Let you?'" Shimmers asks, "'Let you'? You bucking whorse-!"

Oh, fuck! Shimmers just slapped Flutters right across the muzzle! I even felt that in my teeth!

"That's nice," My Butterfly answers, I don't know how that doesn't phase her, "but you do realize that now I have to buck a bitch!"

Whoa, dude, cat- uh, mare fight! Jesus, I know Fluttershy was strong, but this is ridiculous! Shimmers, even though she is an Earth pony, is getting stomped flat by My Butterfly. I didn't know she had it in her-! Just what the flying Hell brought this all about?

"Ah!" Shimmers cries, "Stop, stop! I give, I give!"

"That's right! You mess with my stallion, you mess with me! And when you mess with me, I wrath at you!" My Butterfly announces.

Shimmer Star is cowed; she is so badly beaten up, that she doesn't limp away, she crawls. Man, do I have competing emotions about this. To note, I can't decide if being defended by my marefriend makes me a wimp or a stud. I also can't tell if Fluttershy Smash is scary or sexy. I kinda feel both at this moment.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" Flutters asks, "That Shimmer Star didn't upset you, did she?"

"No, no," I answer, "but, I do gotta wonder, what the Hell just happened?"

"What do you mean?" My Butterfly asks, "I was just defending my stallion."

Wow, the nonchalance she says that with…

"Well, you see, back home, things are different," I explain, "if a guy was messing around with another guys girl, he pound the stuffing out that guy."

"Oh, I see," Flutters says, "Well, here in Equestria, the mares defend their stallions. It's kind of traditional for a mare to do so. That's what my papa said. It's actually encouraged for a mare to defend her stallion, seeing as there are so few stallions around."

"Huh, I guess that makes sense," I say, "is that because Equestria has a matriarchal society?"

"More or less," Fluttershy answers, "it's also because the ratio of mares to stallions is so steep. I can count the number of stallions here in Ponyville on one feather."

"So it's a numbers game." I say.

"Pretty much," Flutters responds, "a mare has to go to whatever lengths she can to protect her stallion. Or her monkey, in this case."

"Hey!" I exclaim, "Who's a monkey?!"

From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number Twenty-Eight:

Oh, my fucking grandmother! I'm not sure what possessed me to agree with Big Mac to help Ay Jay while she was in season, but good God, I must have been addled. Fluttershy was surprisingly calm through it all, though I know she was a ball of uncertainty during the whole thing. My Butterfly would help Applejack cool off between heats, bringing water, food, and the occasional coffee. As for myself, I was mounting the farm mare like no tomorrow. She heated up at least three times a day, seven times during that last day. It's a wonder I came off Sweet Apple Acres able to walk straight. Fluttershy was very proud of me for handling that situation with the calm I did. It still rather confuses me that she was alright with me mounting Ay Jay like that when she flipped out when I tired with Rainbow Dash.
I'm still under suspension from work, so I don't need to make up any excuse to chuff off. Although, with all the rutting I did with Ay Jay, Flutters and I won't be able to make love for a while. That's okay, though. I found ways to excite my mare that don't involve penetration. I've been meaning to work on my foreplay techniques. I've found some erogenous zones I didn't Flutters had. How was I to know her barrel was so sensitive? Or that the base of her wings are more than just where her flight muscles connect with her barrel? The more I explore My Butterfly's body, the more I discover. The other night, I found her teats. I don't know why it took me so long to notice them. And unlike most mares, Flutters are highly susceptible to touch…
I think I'm starting to understand what this Archmage business is about. Hand That Mourns and Esmer are still not forthcoming, but my experiences over the last few days has expanded what little I know. I guess it could be said I'm some sort of wizard. Or maybe I'm a psychic of a sort? In any case, I'm developing powers the like no human has ever had. Now I know what Time Turner was talking about a while ago. I just hope I don't fall prey to Icarus' Folly…

Fluttershy and I were out, buying some groceries for the week. My pantry and ice box are getting woefully empty and Flutters doesn't keep a lot of foodstuffs on hand; she tells me that some of her rowdier animal pals get into it if she's not watchful. We're still getting a lot of flak from the other day, but we've taken to ignoring it as much as we can. The stares and whispers have gotten worse not that I'm wearing a new little something in my hair.

Earlier this morning, Fluttershy presented me with one of her primary, or pinion fathers. It had molted off the night before when I was helping her preen her wings. She told me that in Pegasi culture, a primary feather given to a lover was a sign of devotion, kind of like giving a human girl an engagement ring. Although, the connotations of a molted pinion are much higher; the Pegasus in question is (symbolically) giving her lover a piece of her soul. I found the notion too romantic for words and accepted the feather. Seeing as I had no wings to pin it onto, I decided to braid it into my hair. It's perfectly visible on my left side; even when the wind blows, it can be seen. Derpy saw it and practically melted. It must be a big deal for Pegasi to do this.

Right now, we're walking to the market, hoping to get some food without invoking someponies wrath. It's been a hassle since that one night, but I've tried to remain civil about it. Hey, look, up the road apiece! It's Applejack! Wow, is she smiling really brightly now.

"Hey Fluttershy! Hey, Steve!" the farm mare calls.

"Hey, Ay Jay!" I reply. Fluttershy waves one of her wings, smiling.

"It's a good thing Ah found ya two; I've been meanin' to thank ya fer the other week." Applejack says.

"Think nothing of it," Fluttershy says, while I nod, "we were thankful to do it."

"Even so," Ay Jay continues, "ain't right of me to take advantage of yer hospitality. Hope ya can forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive Apple-" I start, "Uh, Ay Jay, is that a flower in your saddlebag?"

"Eyup," Applejack replies, "actually, there's two. I- I, uh, been meaning to ask ya'll something since the thing, but it's so busy on the orchard, seeing as how Ah gotta catch up on my work an all. But now that Ah'd have some time to think and reflect on things, Ah've been wonderin'."

Applejack then reaches into her saddlebags where the flower resides. It's an apple blossom, white tinged with orange. And, surprise!, she has not just one, but two of the flowers on her person.

"Ah was wonderin', if'n you have no objections and all, would ya- Would ya'll like a hard working, honest, and strong farm mare into yer herd?"

Applejack takes one her blossoms in her teeth and delivers into Fluttershy's outstretched hoof. (Flutters has a smile a mile wide on her muzzle. The happiness she radiates is palpable.) Ay Jay then takes one over to me and places it into my open palm. She steps back, a look of trepidation on her face. When My Butterfly threads her blossom in her mane, the look dissipates a little. When I thread mine into the buttonhole of my shirt, Applejack brightens significantly.

"Jackie," I say, "we would be honored if you joined our herd!"

"Woohoo!" Flutters exclaims, beaming.

I don't think I've seen Applejack so happy before. She throws us into lung crushing hugs before she joins us on our venture. Somehow, I don't think getting groceries, or any other service in town, is gonna be much trouble from now on.

Author's Notes:

Shit just got serious, son!

And before anypony asks, there are honest to God drive thru beer runs where scantily clad girls (most of which I consider butterface) parade around, serving customers in naught but bikinis. It used to be that they could work in lingerie, but after a beer run called "Papi Chulo's" got cited for indecency because the girls working there were wearing stuff even a stripper wouldn't caught dead in, the City of Laredo passed an ordinance. It made any establishment that allowed such a uniform in the workplace into a C-1 (Restricted) code, which can't operate within city limits. (It's the same designation that strip clubs have to apply for.) Since most beer runs are well within the city's borders and are designated as C-2 (Neighborhood Business), any found operating like that were cited for zoning violations and were shut down.

http://youtu.be/VH2B1sk8QN0?t=32s

35 Welcome 2 the Family

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Author's Notes:

I just had to use a Princess Bride reference!

†Another of my George Carlin specials here: I'm using the French [fort] here, which means strength, not the popular usage variant, [for-tay], which is Italian for "loud." Look up in Merriam-Webster of the Oxford English if you don't believe me. I'm pretty sure The Great Orator himself looked up in the best references of his day when he wrote Brain Droppings. (I have a copy of that book, by the way. An excellent read, I recommend it wholeheartedly; it's absolutely hilarious!)

‡Gealic for useless idiot.

I should note that IMHC, Steven is Irish/Scottish. His mothers family originates from Ireland (his father is second generation and still has a brogue) while his father's family comes from Northern Ireland via Scotland. Historically speaking, Texas was originally colonized by Scotsmen and Bavarians, so Steve's heritage is pretty keen to the historical demographics of his home state. Because his mother is a third gen Irish woman, he has some innate Irish slang in his speech, but he hasn't had a chance to use it much. From now on, it'll be creeping more and more into his lexicon. Just FYI.

From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 30

Okay, this is herd life. Let me explain… No, wait, let me sum up: So, a few days ago, Applejack, who I never expected of having any inclinations to the like, has asked to join Fluttershy and I as a herdmate. Out of all the mares in the shortlist, the exception being Rainbow Dash, Ay Jay was the very least of all these to accept a position within our burgeoning herd. I could potentially see Pinkie Pie; she seems like the kind of mare who is up for anything. Applejack though? She reminds me, in an abstract sense, of those Ozark Mountain people who "keep it in the family." I've seen the way Apple Bloom turned out and it did make me wonder if there was "kissin' siblin's" going on. I haven't really seen any of the Apple Family Genealogy yet, so an assumption could be made for such an argument. Albeit, there an axiom that says that, "assumption is the mother of all fuck ups." I had it my mind that Applejack Apple would prefer to have a stallion all to herself and not share him with anypony. So her request kinda threw me for a loop. Another of my assumptions that gets tossed to the wayside… I'm oh-for-two in that regard.
Anyway, this has made for an interesting few days, for sure. I've had to arrange time to meet with both my current mare and Applejack. Thus far, in the few days I've gotten to know her (well, know her better than I had previously as my landlord), I have to say, we made an excellent choice. Applejack is very affable, has a hidden penchant for exhilarating conversation (in her own folksy manner), and is a remarkably good housekeeper. (She's a far sight better at logistics than I'll ever be, for sure!) She managed to find a pair of socks and some drawers I didn't know I had lost in my flat. The way she does laundry is about as well practiced as one might imagine from the stereotypical Korean dry cleaner, if not better. She also makes a mean apple pie. (Well, duh, she lives and works on an apple orchard!) Mind you, numbers, and math in general, are not her strong suite. Mathematics are not my forté†, either, so I don't blame her for this deficiency. According to Jackie, Big Mac runs all the books and finances at the orchard. Given what I know of the stallion, I can honestly see that. In spite of his simplistic vocabulary, he is without a doubt the most cunning dude I've ever met. He may not be in Twilight Sparkle's league of intelligence, but he's a damn close second!
Right now, I'm looking to establish a base of operations for my herd. (Oh, God, did I just say that?! My Herd! Knock me out with a photon particle…!) Anyway, Jackie and Flutters are considering consolidating my flat with Flutter's cottage. I don't even know how Jackie and them are going to move My Butterfly's treehouse cottage or the Menagerie, for that matter. By Jackie says that it can be done. According to her, my flat can be shoved somewhere within the Southfold Field, along the western border. That should be close enough to the Everfree so Fluttershy can still tend to the wild animals she treats. It's going to be a nightmare to get everything in place, but between Applejack's planning, Big Mac's mind and muscle, and Apple Bloom's engineering skill, I have no doubt it can be done.
The very last thing that comes to mind over the last few days is this Aether and Weave thing. I've come to some understanding about what the title Archmage means. It's not a complete understanding, but it'll do for now. What I've gathered over the last little while is that, as an Archmage (not sure if it's an office or a staff position within the Empire) I can see the way in which magic forms in the environment (The Aether) and pluck it's weave to do my bidding. I've did have to go to Twilight to confirm my suspicions and get a tutorial/primer in magic. She's a little suspicious about why I want to know these things, but she's more than eager to teach me. She was a little less knowledgeable about the weave but she did know quite a lot about the Aether. She explained that the Aether is a reservoir of mana that the Earth and Pegasi ponies tap into to power their ambient magic. Unicorns, and alicorns by proxy, have internal reservoirs of mana that they can tap into as well as specific loci, i.e.: their horns, and that's how they push magic. When she asked my why that was important to me, I told I wanted to know in case I get into a hack with a unicorn. The truth of the matter is, because I lack both an internal reservoir or a locus for my magic, I wanted to know if there were any limits that I might have to my powers. Twilight informed me that only the Diarchs know more on the subject, specifically Princess Luna. (Twilight looked a little put off admitting that last bit.) Now I wonder why that is…

I'm still suspended. It's not the worst thing to ever happen to me, but I'm running out of bits. I refuse to mooch off from Flutters or Jackie. Even though I'd rather not have to deal with her, I suspect the only pony in town to hire me part time for anything would be Princess Twilight. She did say that she needed some repairs done in and around Golden Oak; I just happen to be rather handy with a hammer. Not only can I earn some lucre while I'm there, I can ply Twilight's considerable intellect into an issue that Applejack raised earlier. She made mention that she would like to have a family some day, maybe have a foal or two of her own. Fluttershy is on the fence about having foals, but I kinda expect that of her. Her animal friends are enough of a family for her, at the moment. Applejack, though, would love to get in a family way. She has let it be known that her family expects some offspring to bolster the Apple Family name. If Big Mac doesn't sire some soon, it may be up to Jackie to do so.

So I now I march to Golden Oak, an assignment in hand and armed with an inquiry. I'm hoping I can accomplish both tasks with minimal difficulty. So here I am, standing at the door of Golden Oaks, knuckles inches from the door. I rap on the portal, and I should kill two birds with a stone. Here goes nothin'.

*Knock! Knock! Knock!*

I hear movement behind the door. There's somepony talking back there… I'm hearing two voices, but one of them is unfamiliar to me. I know it isn't Spike; Spike has a high tenor of a prepubescent boy. This voice is a deeper, more mature timbre, most likely a soprano or a contralto. Given the range of the voice, I'm leaning towards contralto. The speaker is haughty, like some of the Canterlot crowd I've heard come through the train station. I wonder what the hell she's doing here? Oh, wait, the door is opening-

"Yes? Can I help you?" speaks an unknown mare.

It's a weirdo from another planet. The mare's mane and tail are like a candle flame, brilliant yellow and crimson. Her coat is a shade brighter than Jackie's but with less red in it. Cyan eyes survey me with less than clinical interest. If it's not apparent, I don't know this pony.

"Hello?! Can. I. Help. You?" queries the unknown mare.

"I don't know," I reply, "I was looking for Twilight. I was sure she was in today."

"Princess Twilight is here," the mare tells me, "are you here for a book or are you turning one in? Hurry it up, I'd like to keep this door closed."

"Sunset?" says the alicorn in question, from upstairs, "Is there somepony at the door?"

"I don't know about 'somepony,'" says Sunset, "but there's some ape- thing, darkening the door."

"Ape?" Twilight says, descending the staircase from her bedroom, "Oh, Steven, you're here!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I reply, "now if Miss Smarmy Pants let's me in, we can get down to business."

"Oh, of course, Twilight says, finally descending the last few stairs, "Sunset, let him pass."

Sunset does so, grudgingly.

"When did you get a maid, Twilight?" I ask, "seems a little too officious for a servant, if'n you ask me."

"I am not a maid," Sunset says, "I am an adjunct, on orders from Princess Celestia," then as an aside, "although if you ask me, this is a waste of my talents."

"Now, Shimmer," Twilight starts, "that's no way to make friends. I think Steve would prove a comfortable companion if you get to know him."

I plant a goofy smile on my face, "I'm kinda like a giant teddy bear in that respect."

"Oh, I bet," deadpans Sunset, "and maybe as about as smart as one."

"She's a delight, Twilight," I say, "wherever did you find her?"

"Steven," Twilight groans, "are you being facetious?"

"A fraction, I reply, "just enough to be amusing without being overly insulting."

Twilight smiles, although this causes Sunset to sneer, and then says, "Steven, let me introduce you to my adjunct. Steven, this is Sunset Shimmer. Sunset, this is Steven Ambrose of the Terran Empire."

"Wait," Sunset Shimmer says, incredulous, "you're from the Terran Empire?"

"Pretty much," I answer, "I've only recently been Returned. That was about, what, almost six months ago? I remember landing in the spring."

"That's right," Twilight says, "you were discovered shortly after Winter Wrap Up."

"Amazing," Sunset says, "a member of the Terran Empire."

"How do you know of the Empire, Shimmy?" I ask, "I'm given to understand that few to none of you Equestrians even knew the Empire existed."

"Shimmer," Sunset growls, "and for your information, before my- well, before, I scoured the Canterlot Archives for any information about The Precursors. Much of the data from that era has been scrubbed clean or otherwise redacted, but I did find mention of something called 'The Terran Empire' in pre-Unification texts."

"Pre-Unification? That must have been before Discord's Era."

Sunset nods, "According to the records I found, The Empire even predates The Olde Poni Empire. According to what I've researched, that ancient Precursor society existed almost around the same time as Queen Astraeus and King Eos."

"Wow," Twilight exclaims, "that is older than recorded Equestrian history!"

"Okay," I add, "so, uh, Twilight, what was this job you wanted me to do?"

"Oh, yes," Twilight starts, "there are some shelves in the Reading Room that have gotten loose. I could do the job myself, but I'm researching some of the things you asked of me last time."

"Oh, yeah, The Aether and The Weave." I declaim, "while we're on the subject of research, do you mind if I pick your brain about something else?"

"Sure, Steven, what is it?" Twilight says.

"Well, I wanted to know a few things about animal husbandry and genetics, if at all feasible."

"Huh," Shimmer balks, "the ape can talk and knows a thing or three about genetics."

"I'm no PhD in the subject," I retort, "but I knew enough to pass high school Biology."

"In that case, Steven," Twilight affirms, "what did you want to know?"

"How many chromosomal pairings are in pony DNA?" I ask, "with Applejack as a herdmate, I want to be prepared for the obvious grilling Granny Smith is going to give me about grandchildren."

"An interesting subject," Twilight begins, "well, it's known that ponies have thirty chromosomal pairings. There have been many studies done to compare Equestrian DNA with other species, namely Minotaur, Griffon, and Donkey; most have been found to be compatible, except for Donkey. Why do you ask?"

"I would like to say I'm satiating my curiosity," I reply, "but I'm certain that Granny Smith is gonna want to know when Applejack and I are gonna have some foals. Given that humans have but twenty-three pairings, I guess the answer is going to be never, unless I can master some Transfiguration spells and/or acquire some transformative potions or the like."

"Only twenty-three?" Twilight asks.

I nod, "Eyup. So if my Biology is correct, if I mated with an Equestrian mare of any race, there's a 100% chance that said mare would not be able to conceive offspring? The human genome lacks the necessary chromosomal variance."

"That's absolutely true," Twilight says, "though I wonder why you're taking this line of thought. Does it have something to do with your herd?"

I nod, "Applejack asked a few days ago if she could join. Flutters and I accepted her as a herdmate, though I'm sure Granny Smith would like a say in it all."

"The ape has a herd?!" Sunset declaimed.

I sneer, which visibly upsets the fiery mare, "Yes, I do. And if my understanding is correct, short of becoming a pony myself via magic or using a transformative potion to affect my spermatozoa to have more equine features, I won't be having any children for the time being."

"Huh," Shimmer infers, "an ape with a fundamental understanding of magic and genetics? You, sir, are everything that The Precursors were not."

"Care to clarify," I inquire, "Shimmy?"

Sunset audibly moans, then says, "The Precursors, or Terran Empire if you will, didn't have any understanding of magic. It is believed by many in the field of Anthropology that the Terran Empire consisted of hoomans that had no magic in them whatsoever."

What is with Equestrians and their inability to pronounce "human" correctly?

"Maybe they did," I add, "but the talent faded away, like unto a recessive gene."

"That doesn't sound right," Shimmer replies, "are you sure you're a Terran Imperial?"

"That's what Hand That Mourn says," I answer, "before she started calling me Archmage, she referred to me as 'Child of Ambrose.'"

"Wait," Twilight says, stopping her walk to the back of the library, "did you say, 'Archmage?'"

I nod, "Yeah, I did. It's been happening ever since the Trixie Incident but lately, I've been getting some voice in my head instructing me about 'seeing The Aether and manipulating The Weave.' I had no idea what that was before now. As of late, I've been seeing this- My best term for it is, an ethereal mesh of energy. I see it all around, but it's especially present when I need to it."

Twilight and Sunset query me simultaneously, "When did you see it last?!"

"Uh," I begin, "a few days ago. Fluttershy and I were out getting an order from the Post Office when we got confronted by some Earth pony hussy named Shimmer Star. By the way, Sunset, is that a relative of yours?"

"Neigh," Sunset answers proudly, "my family is purely unicorn!"

"Yeah," I retort, "that explains so much. Anyway, I saw the Weave as I was about to give that Shimmer Star a piece or two of my mind when Flutters went all 'saddle rager' on the filly. Craziest thing I've ever seen."

There was a silence that seemed to permeate the room, then Twilight says, "I need to write to Princess Luna about this."

"What?!" Sunset exclaims, "Why not Princess Celestia? She has more magical experience!"

"Luna is more adept with The Aether than any unicorn mage I know," Twilight rebuttals, "Celestia may have more magical prowess, but Luna has more knowledge and skill."

I hear the two mares arguing for a while before their voices are drowned out by the closing of a door. I gotta wonder if their heated debate might lead to sloppy lesbian sex. (Filly foolers, for the win!) Well, a man can dream, can't he. I should get started on those shelves…

Okay, so no on the hot and sweaty filly fooling. Twilight, which I am have confirmed to be heterosexual, did not go gay for Sunset Shimmer. I don't know enough about Sunset to say which team she plays for. Either way, I heard the heated discussion about which of the Diarchs was more magically powerful. In the end, a letter was still sent to The Goddess of the Night and the debate was never successfully concluded. I did get my question answered (Twilight also asked Lady Luna about Transfiguration as well as The Weave.) Both mares came downstairs in a huff, but Twilight brightened up to see the straightened and tightened shelving in the Reading Room. I got one hundred bits for the work, wherein Sunset complained that such manual labor was abundantly overpaid, and I left in better spirits than I want to.

The reason for that is the meeting I now have to undertake: meeting with my future in the Apple Family. At least I'll be meeting them at the orchard; Sweet Apple Acres is as good a place as any for family meeting. Or an engagement denouement. In any case, I'll be meeting Fluttershy later to prep and get things sorted. In the meantime, I need to stop by Carousel Boutique to pick up my penguin suit for the Triple Gee. Then I'll be back at my flat, which I have tentatively called The Wolf Den, and change over to a good suit. Rarity has made a few of these for me, but I haven't the opportunity to wear one yet. I have a rather severe looking black ensemble that may go over well with Granny Smith or may just endear her to pepper my back side with rock salt. (Shit, talking about rock salt, I just had a memory of Kill Bill, Vol. 2. That scene where The Bride gets a chest full of the stuff while trying to ninja into Budd's trailer. Damn, I hope that doesn't happen to me!) First stop, the Carousel. I just hope Rarity isn't in Supreme Bitch Mode or even worse, Excessive Melodramatic Diva Mode. Anything but those two paradigms…

Well, let's go bite the bullet… Figuratively speaking, of course.

"♪Good Afternoon!♫" sings the seamstress from the back of her shop, "Welcome to the Carousel Boutique! Where everything is unique, chic, and tres magnifique!"

I don't get time to answer, as Charity Sweetmint comes out to greet me.

"Hello, Steven," the apprentice seamstress says, "your suit is done. You won't believe the fight I put up to make sure Ms. Carousel didn't put in something horrifying. She's still upset about what happened to Ms. Dash and yourself."

"I can imagine," I tell her, "do you think I can speak with her before I take the suit? There's some things that need be said."

Charity takes a moment to consider, then she says, "Well, she has been in a better mood than she has had lately. You can try."

"I'll take it," I reply and allow Charity to escort me to the back room. The work room is littered with bolts of cloth, various spools of thread, needles of every size and gauge, and more than a few tape measures. Rarity herself, is sitting at a sewing machine, plugging away at a dress for somepony. She wears a look of utter concentration while wearing her work glasses. I wonder if those are purely decorative or if their some prescription lenses she wears. As Charity walks in, the fashionista looks up.

"Who was at the door, Charity?"

"It was Mr. Ambrose, Ms. Carousel," the apprentice answered, "he is here for his tuxedo."

All Rarity does is nod and point in the direction of the showroom. My tux, now a deep shade of navy and of properly cut and length, rests on a rack drafted from several ponyquin figures. I steal a quick look at Charity to let her know that I'll take over from here. Rather she intuited my meaning or she's seen such a look before and knows exactly what it means, but she leaves the room. Rarity and myself are the only livings things here. (Unless the fashionista's cat, Opal, is in the room, but I don't see her.)

"Hello, Rarity," I begin, though for all the effect it has, I may as well be speaking to a brick wall.

"So," I start again, "I'm having some trouble telling whether you're the Element of Generosity or Element of Loyalty. Because this Grrl Power thing you and Rainbow Dash have built is a pretty tall wall to circumvent."

All Rarity does is scowl as she continues to work. I've seen when she's "in the zone" and the look on her face is anything but "zoned."

"Anyway," I report, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. I may not have have been in my best mind frame but that was no excuse to act the way I did. I'm certain there was a way of expressing my displeasure with your results with losing my temper or resorting to profanity. I sincerely hope we can move on from this. I will endeavor to express myself in more civil manner from now on."

"It's a start," Rarity says, "but you're still in trouble, Steven."

"Would you be so kind as to inform me of what you mean?" I ask.

Rarity retorts, "I mean, you really hurt Rainbow Dash the other day! She came to me in tears, Steven, tears! This is the same Rainbow Dash that has taken I don't know how many crash landings; she has never complained of any discomfort from her various injuries. But that night, while she lay inconsolable on my chaise lounge, I saw a broken Pegasus wearing an equally broken heart! What do you have to say for yourself?"

I let go of held breath, one I had started when Rarity began her diatribe, then explain, "There were some mitigating factors that- well, that negated any pretense of romance that night. Rainbow Dash wasn't the only one inconsolable that night."

"Oh, do tell!" the fashionista seethes.

"What do you know of Fluttershy's mother?" I query.

This stops the seamstress cold, as a contemplative look crosses her face, "I know that she died and her father remarried. Anything else, Fluttershy hasn't told me of."

"She probably wouldn't," I add, "you know how Flutters is; she's a very private mare. Anyway, her mother, Sky Shimmer, was killed during a freak dragon attack. For a while after, her father was given to imbibing on alcohol. He got- a little more touchy-feely with his daughter than society would typically allow."

"Wait," Rarity says, a dawning horror drawing its way into her features, "do you mean-?"

"No," I answer, "but it was close. It only stopped after Butterscotch remarried."

"Oh," Rarity says, relieved.

"That isn't the end of the story, though," I begin again, "her step-mother, Posey, is a local girl. Shortly after the two were wed, Butterscotch got- Well, do you know what marital rape is?"

"Well, no, I've never heard of such a thing-" then Rarity stops, horror struck, "NO! You mean her stepmother was-?!"

I nod, "Forced, yeah. According to Flutters, it happened quite often. That night that Rainbow Dash was with us, Fluttershy had a terrible flashback of the times she was witness to that. She left the bedroom in a crying fit. I don't know if Rainbow knows. She and Fluttershy are best of friends, so certainly she knows of some of the details. And of course, as Fluttershy's coltfriend, I couldn't leave her a sobbing wreck just to pleasure myself with another mare. You understand, right?"

Rarity is struck horrified but the point is definitely getting across, "I'm- I'm beginning to. Why did she never tell us?"

"Would you?" I question, "Would Pinkie Pie, Ay Jay, or Twilight confess? Everypony has their secrets yet some live with theirs because the alternative is be made a pariah or to reveal an humiliating personal truth. So, please, Rares, don't say a word of this Flutters. She misses you dearly and the thought that you could shut her out without hearing her side- Well, from what I could see, it's tearing her apart. If you can't forgive me, at least forgive her."

Tears start rolling down those alabaster cheeks and for the first time in my recent memory, I see a pony diving deep in sadness. Applejack was despondent that Lone Star broke up with her, but that emotion and the sadness I see on rarity's face are of two different leagues.

"Of- Of course, Steven, anything, anything for her. She is my dearest friend, I must say. As you are her stallion, of course I forgive you to. It was- foalish of me to think that you would do anything to harm anypony without a good reason."

"Thank you, Rarity," I reply, and then, with my hands on the tuxedo, "that is a good looking suit! This is a far cry better than the first one!"

"But of course, dahling!" Rarity beams, all sadness forgotten, "only the best for my friends!"

"Yer gonna be just fine, Steve," Applejack assures me, "jus' be yerself."

"Easier said than done," I reply, as I marched with my two mares towards Sweet Apple Acres, "I've only ever met Granny Smith once. If she's anything like the in-laws I've seen or read about before, I'm going home with my ass in a teakettle."

Fluttershy, who is walking alongside me, smiles at the vivid imagery. I can't remember a time I was more nervous, unless it was when I asked my mother if I could take a sign language course at the community college. The request must have been strange to her because none in our family are deaf. It was only later, after Cat and I started dating, that my mom got it. My dad, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. Then again, my father was a Blue Ribbon, Grade-A gammy mog‡. You don't wanna know. I guess he was ambivalent that my girlfriend wasn't an either Irish or Scottish. (Caitlin told me her family originates from The Ukraine.)

"Just remember, Stevie, Fluttershy said, "you won't be doing this alone. I'll be there and this Applejack's family, so she'll be there as well."

"Darn tootin'!" Jackie confirms.

"That'll help out, yeah," I say, pulling on the tie I ill advisedly decided to wear, "alright, let's do this."

The three of us walk the path through Sweet Apple Acres that leads to the Apple Family homestead. The combination house/barn is a sight to behold. The siding is painted in an apple red, the shingles are a deep leaf green, and the whole thing is almost big enough to hold a Boeing 777 comfortably. Awaiting us outside on stacks of haybales are Big Mac and Applebloom. Biggie is gnawing on a wheat stalk, passing time, while Applebloom is bounding between hay bales in a fit of youthful energy. The second she sees us, she makes a beeline towards us. Her first target is Applejack, wrapping the eldest Apple Daughter in a sweeping hug. She then turns to me and wraps to fuzzy forelegs over my left shin.

"Steve!" Bloom exclaims, "did Ah hear correctly? Yer gonna be my bigger brother?"

"That's the long and short of it, Bloomer," I reply, "if'n Applejack will have me, that is."

Said mare has a blooming blush over her freckled cheeks. The sweet smile on her face she would like this more anything else in the world.

"Well, Ah'm sure Applejack will have ya," Bloom says, "yer a better stallion than most!"

As if to prove the point, Applebloom shows off her new cutie mark.

"He sure is," Applejack confirms, "much b'tt'r th'n any stallion Ah've ever known."

"You girls are makin' me blush, now," I confess, "but let's hold off on the fireworks 'till Big Mac and Granny Smith have their say."

Applebloom nods and runs off towards her brother. The red-coated stallion lazes on the haybale he occupies, still whiling away on his wheat stalk.

"Where you at?" I greet.

"What it is," Biggie replies, "been waitin' on ya."

"Yeah," I say, "wanted to give the right impression. Figured it couldn't hurt to get spiffied up some."

Both the Apple stallion and myself take in the new suit I'm wearing. The warm gray pin stripes on black twill make for an interesting effect, making me taller than I really am. The darkness of the suit also make me appear slimmer, if somewhat warmer. The black silk tie I have on is helping in regards to my appearance but not my airflow. At least the loafers I'm waering are moderately comfortable.

"Ya ain't gotta worry 'bout me," Biggie says, "Ah figured ya was a good feller a while back. It's Granny Smith that's gonna weigh an' measure ya. She's the judge, jury an' excution'r 'round here."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," I say. I've only ever spoken with Granny Smith that night Applejack was dumped by Lone Star. Truth be told, I was doing more talking than listening, but Ms. Smith was interested in knowing the situation than interrogating me. Other than that, I've never even seen the Apple Family matriarch.

"Why don't we go on inside," Applejack says, "Ah don't 'bout ya'll, but I'm half past starvin' meself."

"I'm sort of hungry myself," Flutters says, "I'm sure anything your Granny Smith makes will be delicious!"

"Alright," I reply, "Big Mac, I know it's a bit cliché but, take us to your leader."

The Big Red Earth Stallion chuckled a bit and led us all into the Apple Homestead. I find it interesting that besides the stable door at the front of the house, there's also a screen door. (It's probably to keep out the flies during Spring and Summer. How ponies without and hands or fingers installed that is beyond me.) The two mares, the filly, the stallion and I walk into the place (Is that the beginning of a terrible joke or what?) and Big Mac winds his way through a sitting room. He takes a left, past a living room, and into a dining room/kitchen. The kitchen itself, form what I see, is too small for the number of visitors our party is today, but the dining room has an elongated oak table, perfect for receiving guests.

Seated at the head of this table is the aged matriarch of the family, Granny Smith. The venerable Earth mare has seen some times, not just by her sagging coat but also by her world-weary eyes. Those eyes are sizing me up, searching for any pretense or deception in me. For my part, I may be capable of deception or pretense, but on this day I come with neither. Aside from Granny Smith, there's a plethora of food laid out on the table. My mouth is watering, it all looks so good.

Biggie sets himself in the chair on Granny Smith's right, Applejack on her left. Applebloom sits down in the chair beside Ay Jay; Fluttershy and I sit down in the only chairs left, at the end of the table. Once we're all seated, Granny Smith looks around, a smile on her weathered face. She takes in the sight of her grandchildren, then her gaze lands on Flutters and I. The smile doesn't leave, but a shrewd glint appears in her eye.

"Howdy, younguns," the matriarch says," beaming at Biggie, Ay Jay, and Bloomer, "time fer us to have ourselves a family meetin'."

The three Apple Siblings nod there heads. I can't help but notice the smile on Bloomers face or the nervous grin on Ay Jay's. This is the moment of truth for all us.

"'Fore we begin with the vittles and such," Granny Smith orates, "we gonna say grace. Mister Steve, if'n ya be so kind."

I'm a little surprised by this, for I figured we get to eating before any major announcement were to be made, but I handle this. This used to happen all the time when I was visiting Members home for Family Home Evening or Home Teaching. I just gotta pull something out of my hat. (Now I'm wishing I had actually worn a hat. I could ask for Jackie's, but she took her's off the minute we were inside.)

"Whelp," I murmur, just loud enough for Flutters to hear, "Here goes- something."

"Our kind and Gracious Heavenly Father,

"We thank Thee this day for the wonderful company in which we find ourselves with this day,

"We thank Thee for the Princesses Celestia and Luna, whose blessing everypony can feel and freely partake in,

We thank Thee for the Apple Family, whose kindness, grace, and honesty are the hallmark of an excellent family,

We thank Thee for the food of which we are about to partake, may it be nourishing to body and soul and be pleasing to the taste;

"Heavenly Father, we ask that Ye bless this house wherein we meet,

"We ask that Thou grant ach prayer of this household and make them strong and prosperous,

"We also ask thee to bless this food, and the matriarch of this house who made it,

"We ask that The Princesses be equally blest, that their wisdom and charity we unrivaled in all this world,

"and We ask Thee that Thou should bless this nation, Equestria, that it's citizens know peace and harmony all the days of their lives;

"We say these things, Father, in the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen."

A round of "amens" follow my prayer. At first, though, nobody tucks in. I open my eyes and see everypony, even My Butterfly, looking at me with a high measure of interest. The whole thing makes me weirdly anxious. I wonder, did I something wrong?

"Everything alright?" I ask.

"Uh, yeah," Jackie says, "it's just, we ain't ever heard a grace like that afore."

"Where there something wrong with it?" I query further.

"No," Fluttershy says, "there was nothing wrong with it. It was just- different."

"Ah'll say," Granny Smith adds, "kinda long, too. It was purty, though. Mighty purty, that one was."

"Do hoomans say prayers like all th' time?" Big Mac asks.

"Not always," I answer, "some human prayers are rather simple. Things like, 'Good bread, good meat, thank God, let's eat.' Or stuff like, 'I lay me down to my head to sleep, I pray The Lord my soul to keep; if I should die before I wake, I pray The Lord my soul to take.' I'm a Latter-Day Saint; our prayers have a formal structure that few human religions practice."

"Just how many religions are there where yer from?" Applebloom asks.

"I'm not sure," I reply, "There's Roman Catholicism, Orthodox Catholicism, Russian Orthodox Catholicism, Protestantism, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Shintoism, and quote-unquote, Mormonism, which is what I practice. I'm not the best example of Latter-Day Sainthood, but I try my best."

"Woo-hee!" Granny Smith whistles, "that's nuff to make a pony's head spin!"

I nod in confirmation.

"Well, the food ain't gettin' any warmer," Granny Smith declares, "dig in!"

The matriarch's pronouncement causes a veritable flood of chaos to occur. Everypony at the table tucks in to the feast laid out on the table. If my mother were here, she would be appalled by the table manners on display, but the Hell with it, these are ponies. So, with a polite request to Fluttershy, I start on a heaping plate of apple fritters. And, ho dayum, are they good! I'll think I'll try the some of those apple dumplings, they look good…

Somewhere between the apple cobbler and the apple pie, Applejack stands up from the table (on her hind legs, no less) and clears her throat. Everypony at the table stops what they're doing to listen.

"Granny, Big Mac, Applebloom, I have somethin' 'portant to tell ya'll."

Applebloom waits with bated breath, Big Mac is already aware but keeps a stoic composure, but Granny Smith is the one taking a wide-eyed interest in what's about to happen.

"As ya may or may not know, Ah've asked Steve here if Ah can join his herd; as it turns out, Ah can! Now, Ah know there be a lot ya'll wanna ask, 'specially of me but more likely Steve here, so Ah'm gonna open th' table ta discussion."

Applebloom is the first to speak, "Does that mean I get a new sister?"

I grin, happy that Bloomer is approaching this with all her enthusiasm, "Yeah, it kinda does. Fluttershy is going to be your sister-in-law, technically. I'll be your brother-in-law, by the way."

Big Mac speaks next, "Does that mean that Ay Jay is gonna be away from the farm a lot?"

"No," Ay Jay says, and I continue, "I wouldn't tear a farmgirl from her beloved home, so Ay Jay is staying here on The Acres. If anything, I'll be moving The Wolf Den away towards the southwest portion of the orchard so Fluttershy can still access The Everfree Forest. Flutters and I have talked about this and she is willing to move; she's already spoken with all were woodland friends and they will make the trek as well. If anypony is wondering, the critters are gonna keep to The Menagerie, so there won't be any worries of critters messing with the apple harvest."

Granny Smith then says to Ay Jay, "Well, youngun, you sure took a fine stallion fer yerself. Loads better then that Lone Ster feller. I gotta ask, if'n ya get my blessin', when can I expect some foals?"

This is what I was afraid of answering, even though Applejack and I discussed this on the way up here, "Well, ma'am, there probably won't be any foals for the time being. Humans and ponies can't mix; it's like the mules back home, they're sterile. Albeit, the barrenness is something that will effect Fluttershy, too. Until I can have a transformative potion brewed or learn some Transfiguration magic, foals are gonna be something of a pipe dream. That's probably what you didn't wanna hear and I'll be the first to admit that the inability children is a blow to me, but I hope someday I can circumvent those obstacles."

"Wait a minute," Applebloom interjects, "ya can do magic?!"

I shrug, "A little bit; I'm something called an 'archmage'. I have some spells and charms that I've learned, but I'm nowhere in the league of Lady Twilight. I have some that I've used with some success, but I'm no master at it yet."

Granny Smith goes a wicked gleam in her eye and says, "Prove it."

Leviatus, says The Voice in My Head, lighter than air, stiff as cold steel.

"Leviatus," I call. The plates and cups at the table begin to float. I've used local impact spells (stuff like Alacrity) and area effect spells (my shield spell, Impediment) but I've never used a direct effect spell before. I begin to wonder if this spell has other, more practical applications.

"Now that is nifty," Granny Smith muses, "where'd ya learn stuff like that?"

I chuckle nervously before responding, "You wouldn't believe if I told ya."

Granny Smith lets the matter rest for the moment but Big Mac has another concern on his mind, "Can ya do apple buckin' with that stuff?"

"Not sure," I answer, "I do have a spell that I haven't tried yet that makes me almost as strong as an Earth pony. I do know that I'll need to avail myself of your orchard while I stay suspended from the Arcade. I sure as Hell am not gonna loaf around; I wanna earn my keep."

"Oh, I think we can get some chores fer ya t' do," Granny Smith comments, "don't know if we can pay ya…"

"As long as I roof over my head and my two best girls with me, I won't mind." I reply, "in fact, if i can get a little help from Applebloom, I might be able to make The Acres more profitable than it ever was."

"Howda ya mean?" Big Mac asks.

"I have some idea," I answer, "like a machine that will automatically make haybales and a new design for your cider press that will make twice the volume of apple cider than you usually produce."

"You ain't gonna go all Flim FLam Brothers, are ya?" Applebloom asks.

"Yeah," Granny Smith adds, "we ain't needin' any smoke an' mirrors 'round here."

"I know who these 'Flim-Flam Brothers' are," I retort, "but some of the Terran Imperial tech I've seen will make harvesting apples and making cider much more efficient. It's my understanding that you have traditional methods of doing your business and if you don't like my proposals, then I won't allow them to interfere. Like my grandpappy is fond of sayin', 'If'n it ain't banjanxed, done clem widdit.'"

An appraising look comes over both Granny Smith and Big Macintosh. After a short while, they gather in a huddle and start speaking in whispers. Applejack and her sister try to listen into the conversation but the Matriarch and The Head Stallion are speaking so softly that nopony is privy to what they're discussing. After a minute or two of private evaluation, the two break apart.

"Well, youngun," Granny Smith begins, "Ah'll be pleased as punch to let ya take my granddaughter as a bride. Big Mac an' Ah are in agreement on that. So it gives me great pleasure to say, welcome to the Apple Family!"

We all stand up, Fluttershy included, and meet in a family embrace. I don't know if it's the food, the welcome or the fact that this meeting is done and over with, but I'm brimming from ear to ear.

The last month has been a whirlwind of activity for me. Between sculptures and paintings I've made back at my loft and the time I've spent cavorting with Lady Cornelia, I don't think I've ever had a better time in all my lives. Cornelia is- well, she is something I think I've been missing. As First Confidante of House Genial, she is both an excellent listener and an objective problem solver. She provides insights into my life that I had not known were needed.

So it safe to say that I have been frequenting my friend Cassius' little discoteque for the last month or so. I may not be there for the dancing or the drinks. Hades, I am not even there for the music, though some of the acts have been mighty good. No, I spend much of my time at the Four Winds engaging in the most stimulating conversation with Lady Cornelia. I realize that House Genial has reputation as the home for concubines, consorts, escorts, and prostitutes, but in my dialogues with Lady Cornelia, I have found that the reputation is largely unwarranted. Yes, there are those professions tucked into House Genial, but many more of the Houses members are engaged in with the Humanities, such as psychiatry, physical therapy, and counseling.

Mind you, House Genial is one of the Lower Houses and unlike House Praetorian, it is subject to massive amounts of regulations regarding its members. For example, they are only permitted to operate in certain districts of Pivot. Much of their business can only occur in color coded districts, like Blue (dealing with male prostitution), Red (dealing primarily in female prostitution) , and Violet (dealing in business relating to entertainment or escort services). Lady Cornelia is akin to a psychiatrist, so her comings and goings are not as tightly bound as the rest of her house. She and I still get our fair share of curious looks, whenever we are out and about. The Higher Houses are permitted anywhere in the Empire, let alone Pivot, so to hear of such odious restrictions is rather unsettling for me. Still, it does give me incentive to remove myself from the Silver District that houses my loft. It is also excellent exercise to travel on foot from The Silver District to the Violet District.

On this night, The Four WInds is nearly at capacity. It may be early on a Saturday evening, five in the evening to be precise, but the floor is packed, anyway. I can see many of members of Higher Houses here. I can even see some members of House Proletariat. That makes me wonder why they are here; House Proletariat is known for indulging in wine tastings, symphonies, and other upper class fare. Why they would slum it up here is beyond me. Whatever the cause, there s still quite a crowd here and the main act hasn't even arrived yet.

Said act is a new talent, only just found a few weeks ago. Unlike many of the bands and artists that play this stage, this act actually one of the Equestrians. An unicorn mare, if I recall, who goes the stage name of MC Pon-3. I happen to know her personally, being a liaison for the Terran Empire to the Equestrians. Her proper name is Gramophone, and she hails from a place called Stalliongrad. She has a yellowish white coat, and a dark cobalt mane striped with moderate cyan. Outside of her trademark darkened spectacles, she is also known for her golden gramophone cutie mark. It will be the first time an Equestrian has appeared at an Imperial forum. I am looking forward to her performance.

As per my custom, I am lounging at the bar. Alcohol has no interest for me, so I sipping a rather enjoyable concoction called a soda. The carbonated beverage is something new to me; the little buzz I get from the caffeine infused in the drink is a pleasant experience. The rest of the crowd is imbibing on whiskey and scotch. Not my kind of poisons, but to each their own. The crowd is tuned up for the show, but that doesn't stop some from making their own entertainment.

"It is plentiful crowd for a Saturday," speaks Lady Cornelia, "one would think The Matron is in attendance."

"Who knows, she might," I reply, "she does like new and interesting things. A disc jockey from Equestria is certainly new."

Cornelia adds, "And novel. I have heard of these Equestrians before but I confess I know them not. Is it true that they are some manner of equine?"

"They are," I answer, "albeit, they are not like any equine I or anyone else has ever seen. Their muzzles are smaller, their eyes are larger as their crowns. They have the ability to speak and some, like the unicorns, have capacity for the magicks."

"That is mighty impressive," Cornelia says, "I have never seen magick before."

"I have," I reply, "when those thrice Goddess cursed dragyns emerged. The kind the Equestrians can use is benign, but some magick- Let us say that some magick is best not imagined."

We wait, watching the atmosphere of the place grow with anticipation. The crowd jostles to and fro, as new customers arrive, displacing older ones. At length, a trio of young turks, all from House Proletariat, trundle to the bar. By the smell of them, they are already wasted on powerful spirits. The bloodshots eyes and slurring speech are the best indication of how intoxicated they are. One of the trio, a rotund blonde youth with the first shadow of a beard on his face starts gawking at Lady Cornelia. His two comrades join suite in the ogling.

"Wow," the blonde one says, "pretty lady…"

"Hot momma," says his even more rotund but dark haired compatriot, "I bet you give great head."

Lady Cornelia refuses to acknowledge them.

"Hey, baby!" calls out the third young man, a rail thin teenaged freak with purposely dyed blue hair, "You wanna hook up?"

Lady Cornelia is patently refusing to answer their salacious inquiries but hat does not stop the three young men from continuing their harassment. At some point, they physically accost Lady Cornelia into going outside tith them. I believe they assume that her House Genial sigil is a sign that she is a whore. I step to ensure them that is not the case.

"Excuse me," I demand, "but you are violating the lady's personal space. If she is not responding to your cat calls, then mayhaps you should seek out a more accommodating female."

"And who're you," asks the bulbous blonde, "to get in our way? I'll have you know my father is head of The Triune Faction. One word and your life is over."

"And I," says the freakish third of the trio, "am the son of the Finance Minister. If I don't get what I want, my father will see to it that you will be destitute before weeks end."

"I would like to see him try," I respond, "for I am Primus Legate Ambrose, of House Praetorian. My position supercedes any of your fathers posts. Now, do I have to enquire after a cadre of peacekeepers or shall I have to educate you in the fine line between harassment and courtship?"

The trio back off, obviously now understanding that their efforts are futile. They parse through the crowd just as the stage begins to dim.

"Thank you," Lady Cornelia says, "none in my house have the kind of authority to refuse one from the Higher Houses."

"Verily welcome, you are," I reply, "it is the least I can do for such a lovely woman. A lady such as yourself should not have your honor tested or sullied."

Cornelia smiles at my words and just as MC Pon-3 takes the stage to massive applause, she sneaks a kiss on my cheek.

36 Date Nite

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 34

Well, the good news is, I've successfully avoided the drama llama with the Apples. Also, Applebloom's adoration of me has gone to new heights. I was there when Silver Schooner and her bratty friend, Diamond Hard-On trotted up to my little sister-in-law. They backed away pretty damn quickly. Bloomer and I shared a good laugh over that. Seems the Terrible Twosome would not want to mess with an ape with kind of abilities I'm building. (It doesn't help that I used Leviatus on them as they approached. Frightened the wee bairns, it did!)
Applejack, Fluttershy, and I have been getting into a good groove as well. Although technically, Applejack and I have already had sex (during her estrus the other week, too), she's still kinda shy around me. Although, I did see her face light up when Flutters and I made love the other night. I think she was genuinely intrigued by the fact that the way we did was different than what she believes is the norm. The "normal way" for a stallion and a mare to couple is what humans typically call doggy style. Mind you, I'm much taller than either Flutters or Jackie; my genitals don't really line up right. So Fluttershy and I employ a few other positions. It's like something out of the Kama Sutra… My favorites are "Crab Style" (Missionary Style; Fluttershy lays on her back and I penetrate her in a way where we're belly-to-belly), "Dolphin Style" (Cowgirl Style; Flutters straddles my penis and rides it to climax), and "Congress of Minotaurs" (Wheel-barrow Style; I stand erect while holding Flutters hind legs and penetrate her that way. It's even more erotic if she's belly up while we do it. I get to watch her face as she climaxes. So hot…! I've heard tale that this is a variant of Minotaurs Congress called "Submission to A Bull").
Of course, when My Butterfly and I make love, we tend to tease Jackie a bit about it. Well, I tease the farm mare some. She certainly looks ready to jump in the action, but something stays her hooves. It's not I'm cruel about it; Fluttershy warns me when I go to far and that hasn't happened in a long while. In any case, Ay Jay is content watching the action, although a last night, she actually managed to draw up some courage and got Flutters hot and bothered for me. It was the hottest thing I've seen in my life. I was still getting undressed and Flutters was lying on the bed waiting when Ay Jay comes in. She asked if there was anything she could do to help. I jokingly replied that she could warm up Fluttershy for me. When I turn around, a very nervous but accepting Fluttershy is getting eaten out by Jackie. Just the sight of that made it difficult for me to not pleasure myself.
In other news, The Voice In My Head has been coaching me about my magic. It's just little things so far, minor spells that help me in everyday life. Things like Hard Corps, which grants me higher endurance for physical labor, Titans Boon, which makes me stronger than normal, Far Sight, which grants me temporary telescopic vision, and a small list of other non-offensive spells. I still don't know who or what this Voice is. Nopony else seems to hear it. When I asked Twilight about this, she just sort of went rigid. Sunset is certain I'm mentally disturbed or insane. I'm not sure I can argue with that assessment. I have to ask Hand That Mourns if this "voice" is the wisdom of the ancient Terran Imperials. She's been awfully quiet on this Archmage business and that's starting to worry me.

It's Wednesday, or hump day, as it's said back home. Fluttershy came over for dinner tonight, joining Applejack and I for some vegetable lasagna. It was my first time making it and I think I did alright. Applejack seemed to think it was tasty and Fluttershy had no complaints. I just hope they weren't humoring me. I may not be a chef on the order of Jeff Ramsey or whatever the fuck his name is, but I do know my way around a kitchen. We ate in a pleasant sort of atmosphere, Jackie and Flutters telling me about their respective days. It was really rather nice.

After dinner, we played a little game of strip poker. It was weird at first because, A.) none of the girls wore much (Ay Jay had her hat but otherwise both mares were wearing nothing but their coats), B.) pony playing cards are very different from human ones. The suites are Hearts, Hooves, Horns, and Halberds. I had to explain that human cards had Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs and Spades and then go into detail about the way the cards were marked. By comparison, Equestrian decks are much simpler. Instead of two through ten and then face cards, pony decks are made up of two through twelve, with face cards of Guard, Retainer, Mage, and then Princess. There is no Ace card. Their Jester card is a close equivalent to the Joker card. C.) I still have some difficulty with Equuish. Fluttershy was patient enough to teach me Equuish numbers up to twenty, so I now know how to do that. I lost, but in reality, I made out like a bandit.

Presently, I'm lying on the couch, buck naked. Applejack is on the other end of the couch, watching the events as they unfold. Fluttershy is on the other side, draped over my lap. She has my penis in her mouth and her head is bobbing up and down. I never thought I'd say this, but I enjoy the feeling of soft lips around my dick. Rainbow Dash has some nice lips, sure, but Fluttershy's are much softer and more talented. I'm not even going to ask why. All that matters now are those lips, downy soft and warm, are wrapped around my shaft while a talented tongue is servicing my erection. Oh, God, does it feel good! Not only that, but Flutters has a hoof fondling my testes. If ever there was a good time to be had it is right here, right now. Mmmm, this is fantastic!

"Ahhh," I moan, "Butterfly, I'm getting close-"

This causes Flutters to double her efforts. Applejack is watching avidly, although on occasion, I notice her gaze shifting from the fellatio happening in front of her to Flutters plot. No doubt My Butterfly is saturated by now. Unless Ay Jay is interesting in tapping that ass, I don't see why she is glancing at it.

"Ah-haha-haha-ah!" I groan, "Fluttershy, I'm almost there… just a little harder… just- a little- harder…!"

Now Fluttershy is going triple time. This isn't the first episode of fellatio My Butterfly and I have engaged in; typically we do it to get me primed for the main event. On at least three other occasions, she has gone down on me until I climaxed. (The first was an accident. I was about to tell her I was climaxing, but it came too soon. Flutters caught a thick load of my baby batter but not all of it. Since then, she's practiced to swallow as much as she can. So, yes, mean fillies suck, nice mares swallow.)

"FLUTTERSHY!" I warn.

It takes everything I have not to thrust into Fluttershy's mouth. I'm not sure what it is about the anatomy of a pony's mouth, but fellatio with one is usually pretty intense. I'm ejaculating pretty hard right now… I can feel Flutters swallowing every drop of juice I'm spilling… The motion itself is making my climax that much more intense… Now what is Applejack up to? She's on her hooves but- her forelegs are now climbing my bare chest. And now said forelegs are wrapped around my neck… Sweet Jesus, Applejack is kissing me!

And I thought Fluttershy's lips were soft… I expected Ay Jay's puckers to be weather chapped, but they're sure not! Like downy fur, they are! And her tongue… I don't know what's more sensual, Flutters fellatio technique or Ay Jay's writhing tongue! She's exploring my oral space with abandon and I'm absolutely loving it! Where was all this courage a few days ago? In either case, this is spurring my body on to climax even harder, which is something I didn't know I could do. I can hear Flutters moaning around my member. I don't even know how she is still swallowing my spunk.

When Flutters does remove herself from my erection, I can see out of the corner of my eye (because Ay Jay is taking up much of my visual acuity) a small trickle of cum falling down from Flutters mouth. Her eyes are bulging slightly, which I've come to learn that is the sign that she is trying to swallow too much at one time. She makes a valiant effort though. I would commend her for her success if my mouth wasn't full of Earth pony tongue. Ah, good, Ay Jay is breaking away from me. That was some kiss!

"He-he," the farm pony chuckles, "Sorry there, pardner. I guess I kinda got caught up in the moment."

"Don't be sorry," I wheeze, "that was a good kiss!"

I hear Flutters gulp loudly, then, "Wow, Applejack, you amaze me! I never knew you were so daring."

"Aw, shucks," Ay Jay says, "I was just swept up in th' moment, 'tis all."

I then say, "If you ask me, that little bit of courage deserves some reward."

"A reward?" Ay Jay asks, "Howda ya mean?"

"Why don't you lie down on your back, Jackie," I tell her, "and relax. I'm sure you're gonna enjoy this."

"Oh, Applejack, you're in for such a treat!" Fluttershy exclaims, "You'll probably think it's weird because it's something mares do for other mares, but I've gotten to like it. The way Stevie does it is so delightful!"

"What 're ya'll goin' on about?" Applejack questions, "Just what in tarnation is goin'- Whoa, NELLY!"

It was at the moment that I blew on Applejack's heated core. It's comes as no surprise to me that Ay Jay doesn't know what's coming. Something tells me that filly fooling is something of a forbidden topic in the Apple Family household. Still, cunninglus is a time honored human tradition and I can guarantee that Jackie is going to love this!

"N-now hold on there p-pardner!" Applejack protests, "Ain't that a little- Oh my LAND!"

My tongue just slid up Ay Jay's labia. I can feel her body quiver form excitement at this new sensation. While I attend to her slit with my tongue, I start kneading the joins of her hind legs. I'm not sure if pony parts are equivalent to human parts, but I once read that the tendons in a woman's crotch are some of the most overstressed muscles in her body. If there's an analogue for anthropomorphic equines, then this just might it. It must be something good, because I can see from my perspective that Ay Jay is biting her lower lip. I can hear her thrum as my hands massage her lady parts. Then I swipe my tongue back down her labia. The trembling Ay Jay does is as good an indication as any that she likes this.

"L-land sakes, Steve," Jackie calls, "that is- Whoo, that is somethin'! Ya'll ain't gotta do this-"

"I want to, though," I say, "you're sitting there, just taking everything in and a part of me feels bad that you're not enjoying yourself in the fullest. So sit back and enjoy."

Applejack replies, "If'n ya say SO-!"

Her response is cut off because now I'm parsing her nether lips. I can smell the faint aroma of her arousal and there is a sheen of lubrication coming from her passage. It tastes a little like apple nectar. I decide it's time to start lapping as much of this ambrosia as I can. As I lick at her folds, Applejack does her best to stay still; she is still quivering as my tongue penetrates her folds. I hear a faint moan. From my peripheral vision, I can see Fluttershy using a foreleg to rub herself. Her eyes are taking on an unfocused look that I know means she's getting aroused again.

I go back to attacking Applejack's cooze. Wow, when did Ay Jay get so warm? It's like she's becoming a miniature nuclear reactor. Well, it does make things a little better. The farm mare is gushing fluid now and I'm getting my fill it and then some. Now, what I really want to do is penetrate Ay Jay properly with my tongue. I'm going to need to move my hands- That's it, sidle them just close enough to her slit to take a hold- Part those rosy, glistening lips and- insert!

If Applejack was in the throes of passion, she's now clearly gone to another world of ecstasy. I'm probing her love channel now and I can feel the walls pulsing and throbbing around my tongue. I can feel a little nub, just nested about a quarter inch from her opening… I wonder, if I were to probe that… Bingo, that one is a good spot! I just heard Applejack gasp. Score one for me! Maybe that's the equivalent of the mystical G Spot in pony mares. Or maybe it's were a bundle of nerves rests in her vagina. Either way, when I lash at it again, Ay Jay practically jumps in her own skin. I probe farther, not forgetting that spot I hit earlier. The rest of her passage is slick and full of taught but flexible muscle. I can feel it on my tongue as I lap at the walls. Ay Jay is squirming now. She is either on the cusp of an orgasm or is just tilting at the edge. I go back for that spot again.

There it is, and woompf!, my mouth is flooding by mare cum. I just pushed Ay Jay over the edge because I can hear her moan excitedly. She isn't the only excited. I can hear Fluttershy as she rasps on the cusp of her climax. Now I'm as hard as I was when Flutters starting giving me that blow job. Before anything else goes down, I wanna take Ay Jay around another orgasm. The spot I struck earlier is now engorged; I can feel it as my tongue probes it's fringe. When I push against it, the whole orb gives me some resistance where before it was much more pliable. The effect is the same though: AY Jay quivers and shakes, a soft moan of pleasure escapes her mouth and her passage floods with her juices. I suckle off enough to last my a week, at least. When I pull away from Ay Jay's nethers, her eyes are unfocused. A slight sheen of sweat glistens on her coat and her breathing is short and shallow.

"F-f-f-for c-corn's sakes!" Applejack exclaims, "I ain't- EVER- felt that good afore! Whatevah ya did there, Steve, I gotta say I like it!"

"Feeling relaxed now?" I ask the farm mare.

"Yeah," Ay Jay replies, "dang, Lone Star never got me that far!'

"Never?!" I exclaim.

Ay Jay shakes her head, "Enope; he was done in a minute or so. I barely had time to for- well, ya know." Ay Jay then wipes her brow with a fetlock, "Whooo! I am dang tuckered out. You know, Steve, ya really know how to make a mare feel good."

"He's had lot's of practice," Fluttershy explains, "Didn't I tell you it was good?"

"Darn tootin'!" Ay Jay replies, "I don't think I can go another round, though."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," I add, "because it's looks like My Butterfly is raring to go."

Fluttershy gives me an alluring grin and come hither eyes. She is just as excited as I am.

"How do you want it?" Fluttershy asks.

"I was thinking of something new," I say, "have we ever tried 'Crane Style'?"

Crane Style is a lot like Janukurpara Position, albeit it's designed primarily for Pegasi. By the look in Flutters eyes, I think she's seen or done this before, just not with me. Considering that she's smaller than I am, this will take some doing. Although, if we get this right, I'll look like a champion.

Fluttershy flies up to me, positioning herself just perfectly. She needs little prep work, but I chance a stray finger or two down her barrel. The shiver she gives is an indication that she wants this badly. I promptly give her what she wants. With my erection placed just right, it takes no effort on my part to slide into Fluttershy's moist folds. The enveloping sensation of her passage's walls is nothing short of intoxicating. As Fluttershy quivers around my shaft, she places her forelegs on my chest. If she were human, her arms would be going around my neck, helping to hold her in place. Her wings are keeping her aloft against me, so I keep my hands gripped around her flanks to steady her.

I slide back out, removing myself to the head of my penis before thrusting in again. Fluttershy cries in pleasure as I build up a steady rhythm. All things considered, I think this might just replace Crab Style as my favorite sexual position. With this style, I'm penetrating deeper, almost thrusting past Flutters cervix. The deep penetration is making My Butterfly quake in ecstatic bliss. She has always been a little vocal when we make love, but tonight, Fluttershy is positively channeling Princess Luna. I swear, the butter cream Pegasus pressed against me is using The Royal Canterlot Voice. Even Applejack looks impressed…

The sensation of Flutters pulsating marehood is making it difficult to keep my composure. I can feel the tingle in my loins, letting me now my climax is nigh. With naught more than sheer will, I manage to reign it in. Fluttershy, on the other hoof, is at a plateau. One good push, ans she'll be over the moon. I provide that push with a hard thrust that causes my scrotum to smack against her backside. Her screams of bliss damn near tear the roof of The Wolf Den. It's a wonder that nopony on the orchard didn't hear that. (And unless I figured some way to cast a noise cancellation spell, somepony should have heard.)

It won't be long now. The pressure in my balls is reaching fever pitch. I want to at least invoke one more orgasm in My Butterfly before I shoot my load. By the look in Flutters face, she is almost there for another pass. This time, I start varying the speed of my thrusts. Slow and gentle one minute, fast and brutal the next, which keeps Fluttershy on the verge of orgasm. A little churning action with myself drove in to the hilt… There goes Flutters, with another screeching orgasm. And here comes mine-!

Ah, the release is fantastic in ways I can't even begin to describe! The twitching of my shaft as Flutter's passage wrings it for all it's worth is bliss and ecstasy. Each spurt of my love fills in around my erection, splattering her walls with my spunk. The feeling is electric, even euphoric. If there's a state of unparalleled joy, if there's a mindset of effulgent happiness, then I've found a realm just slightly below it. The rush as our orgasms pass through us is beyond anything words can describe. It is- It is thrilling, joyous, jolting, and brief. Even as my erection stops spasming, My Butterfly is still caught on the wings of happiness. She's coming down now. Her eyes are just as unfocused as Ay Jay's were after I went down on her. Her breathing is shallow, but her smile is unwavering. We both collapse on the sofa, just narrowly avoiding Applejack.

"Wow," Ay Jay says, "ya'll don't do things halfway, dontcha?"

Today is kind of a quiet day for Fluttershy and I. Hr animals are content in the summer warmth, the wind is light but cool, and the air is scented with periwinkle. The two of us are just lounging around at her cottage, taking in each other's presence. It's been a day or so since we were with Applejack. Flutters and I have done Crane Style a few more times and each time is even better than the last. Today, Fluttershy dared me to wear any clothes. She's been holding herself in since I removed the last of my vestments. It does feel kinda nice with the feeling of cloth protecting my skin from harm. I don't think I'll be doing this all over town, mind you; because human males have no sheath, my glans just hangs out in the air and I bet that would cause a stir in Ponyville. Still, here with My Butterfly with naught but the nature of the Everfree around us (the animals are indifferent about my nudity) I'm highly relaxed, more so than I've been since landing here.

Fluttershy interrupts the silence, "Can I ask you a question, Stevie?"

"Sure, My Butterfly," I confirm, "what did you wanna ask?"

"Well," Fluttershy hesitates, "I was wondering, why do you wear clothes anyway?"

"Well," I start, "there's a variety of reason why humans wear clothes. I'll try to boil it down to the most basic concepts."

Fluttershy nods, letting me know she's still listening, and I continue, "The first thing you should know is that, in most human societies, the nude human form is something sacrosanct. It's only to be revealed to a life partner; any exposure of the nude human form outside of that is considered amoral. The second thing you should know is that amongst humans, the nude human form is a direct signal for sexual arousal. That's one of the things that confused me about you ponies. All you have are your coats and all your genitals kinda hang out. At least in mares, your core is hidden by your tail. And from I'm given to understand, males have a sheath for their erections. Humans have neither of those, so excess skin is a sign of sexual promiscuity and many societies frown upon that. Following so far?"

"Mmhmm."

"Also, unlike your world, my world has inclement weather and the climate resolves on it's own. We don't have Pegasi to bust clouds or change the breeze like you Equestrians do. And because of the lack of guard hairs or other such natural features, we humans are really exposed to the elements. Sure, most of us have a layer of natural fat to keep us warm, but it has a low tolerance and a great deal of our internal organs require greater heat retention. That answer your question so far?"

"Yes," Flutters replies, "I understand it now. By why do you wear clothes most of the time? You know there aren't anypony else here right now. It's just me and you.

I think a minute before I answer that, "I guess I feel somewhat insecure with my body. Remember, when I first came here I was pretty heavy. Even with my weight loss, I still feel- exposed? No, I think the better term is vulnerable… Yes, I feel vulnerable without some clothing on. My clothes are kinda like an armor for me. Does that make any sense to you?"

"I think so," Fluttershy answers, "it's kinda like me with my security blanket and teddy bear. Your clothes make you feel- safe."

"Exactly," I respond, "I feel safe when I'm clothed."

And cue comfortable silence. I like these moments. It's just Flutters and I, nothing to say, nothing to do, just sitting here taking each other in. It's mighty refreshing, in my honest opinion. So much of my time on E- uh, back home, was spent trying to create an understanding with other people. More often than not, said people were less than willing to create such understanding. They just didn't want to see past their own noses, I guess. That's why I like it here, I don't have to deal with all that pretense.

"Hey, Stevie?" Fluttershy asks.

I reply, "Yes, My Butterfly?"

"Do you think Applejack is scared of you?" Flutters inquires.

This gives me a bit of pause, "How do you mean?"

"It's just that," Flutters says, "She's been part of our herd for almost two weeks now. She and I get along well. She'll often prime me while we wait for you to get home. Do you think she really wants to be part of our herd?"

"I think she does," I answer, "Maybe she just has gotten comfortable, yet. With you and I, we were comfortable from the word 'Go' but Jackie just got out of one relationship, a pretty intimate one I may add, and she may not be totally confident of what she can contribute to the herd. Why the sudden interest?"

"Oh, it's nothing," My Butterfly says, "well, I don't think it's nothing. Yet, Applejack hasn't shown any interest in mating with you. It has me worried. She was so daring the other night. It makes me wonder."

"Hmm," I ponder, "maybe we haven't been as welcoming as we could be. Remember, we've been dating for a while. I'm still wearing your feather, remember? Maybe we should set up a date night, help get her more comfortable with us."

"Oh, that sounds like a great idea!" Flutters exclaims, "But where would we go? Saddle & Bit? Bridle Lane? I can't think of many places where all three of us can eat without- complications."

"Who says we have to go anywhere?" I say, "why not have the date here? I can make spaghetti, we can talk and play games and if the mood strikes us…"

"Oh, I like that! Fluttershy says.

"Then we should get Ay Jay on board." I add, with a broad smile and a wink.

Fluttershy and I are back outside (I'm back in clothes again, thankfully. The blue jeans and hooded sweat shirt Rarity made me are the pinnacle of my workaday gear). If my memory serves me, Ay Jay and Big Mac are out in the East Fold, Along the way, we meet Bloomer, who confirms my hypothesis.

"So wha're ya going to see Applejack fer?" Applebloom asks.

"We want to take Ay Jay on a date," I answer, "in all the hubbub after her joining Clan Ambrose, I've neglected taking care of Jackie and I want to make up for it. I'm hoping to make this her 'Welcome to the Herd' event. Just don't tell Pinkie Pie about this."

"Don't worry," Bloomer says, "I won't."

I nod at the little filly, "Now, if I were an apple farmer, where would I be?"

"How about over there?" Fluttershy says, pointing to a copse of trees that shake at intervals.

"That sounds about right," I say, "Thanks, Bloom!"

"Anytime, Biggest Brother!" Bloomer calls, before trotting away.

Flutters and I make our way through the rows of now barren apple trees. As we walk, the sound of thudding apples and quaking trees reaches our ears. I can hear Ay Jay's Volunteer Drawl grunting in effort. Big Mac's drawl is not that far away; with a little imagination, I can see him thumping a tree with his huge hind hooves and gathering up baskets of apples before loading them onto one of the carts. I can see one of them now. It's loaded to burst with the delicious, ripe fruit.

"Howdy there," I call out, as I catch sight of the orange farm mare, "working hard, I see."

"Eyup," answers, Jackie, "these apples ain't gonna fell themselves, heh-heh."

"Well, we won't keep you long," I say, "we just wanted to invite on a date."

"A date?" Ay Jay repeats, "what kinda date?"

"A romantic one!" Flutters pipes in, "Dinner, dancing, having fun," and then in that sultry voice that I often heard when she I were alone, "lovemaking…"

"Oh!" Jackie exclaimed, "I, uh- Are ya sure ya wanna? Ah ain't sayin' no or nothin', but Ah mean, is it really necessary?"

"It is, yes," I reply, "we wanna make you feel welcome to Clan Ambrose. And what better way of doing so than taking you out on a date. I know we've spent time together, but this will be a night of making memories. So, would you join us?"

"Ah, uh-" Jackie stammers before Big Mac steps in, "She'll be delighted. She has chores until sunset, but Ah think I can spare her for the last hour. She ain't gonna miss much and Ah can handler the carts alright be m'self."

"Thanks, Biggie," I say, "so, eight o'clock, my place? Wear you best dress." Then I drop to sotto voce whisper, "You won't be needing to for long, but I would like to see you at your most beautiful."

"Uh, sure," Jackie says, blush starting on her face that makes her freckles stand out greatly, "eight on the dot, at yer place, sure."

"Bring an appetite, too," I add, "there'll be enough for thirds or better."

By seven, I had the noodles in the water and a rich tomato sauce on a simmer. My kitchen, relatively small for me, was still more than adequate for me to make every dish I could remember to make and a few that I experimented with. On the work surface tot he right of the sink, I had diced onions, basil, and oregano in small mounds. I had to search carefully for those ingredients; stuff coming from Neighples is hard to come by and prohibitively expensive. The good news is that I stockpiled this stuff while I was still working at the Arcade. The bad news was, I has used most of it for tonight's festivities.

Fluttershy turned up after making a quick stop in town and then tending to her companions back at the Menagerie. She trotted in a brilliant pink dress with hints of crimson and midnight blue in the trim. Those colors are part of my family crest and as part of that, I was wearing my family tartan (I had Rarity make me one) and a kilt. As per Scottish tradition, I was wearing anything under the kilt, wink-wink. For the past few hours, while I was getting the spaghetti ready and crafting the homemade spaghetti sauce, I placed candles all around the Wolf Den. There wasn't a flat surface in the living room without a candle on it. The same was true for the dining room and the bedroom. (Twilight had given me a set of magical candles she received from her sister-in-law, Cadence. They're supposed to light up in the shades of love, pinks, reds and ambers. I haven't had a chance to use them yet, though I should have.) If all went well, tonight, I'd be burning down those candles to the end of the wick.

Fluttershy was helping me set up the dining room. And the plates were in place, silverware installed in the proper position, goblets and glasses resting positively at their settings and a candelabra with three sticks was set in the middle of the table. I had practiced some minor fire spells, so I could light the candles at will. It took a while to get it right; my first few attempts almost destroyed a comforter I was using on my bed…

"The spaghetti is going to need at least a half hour to to get al dente," I mutter, "no need to rush it."

Fluttershy was watching when I said that and asked, "Who is Al Dente?"

I chuckle, "Not who, what. It's an Italian term. It means, "Firm, yet tender."

Fluttershy's head tilts to the side, "Like, when you hug me?"

"Kinda," I say, "I'm not going to bite you to make sure you're tender."

My Butterfly giggles at that, "Not that I would mind…"

I give her a kiss on her muzzle, "Maybe later, Butterfly. Tonight is all about Applejack, remember?"

Flutters nods but the smile on her face never fades. This mare is a blessing, I tell you! Was that I bell ringing I just heard?

"Stevie," Flutters begins, "do you have something in the oven?"

"Why yes I do," I answer, "and it should be done by now."

I stoop down to the oven and remove a baking pan full of the desert I was preparing.

"Teramisu," I declare, "finest desert made by man. Jackie's gonna flip when she has this."

"It smells lovely" Fluttershy comments, "What's in it?"

I explain, "Half a dozen eggs, some sugar, Masaprone cheese especially ordered from Neighples, ladyfinger cookies, whipped cream, unsweetened cocoa, semi-sweet milk chocolate, and some Sweet Apple Acre Hard Cider. I don't think I can get any Kahlua here…"

"That- actually sounds good," Flutters comments, "I think she'll like, too."

I give My Butterfly a smile before returning my attention to the boiling water the spaghetti is in. It's almost time; Applejack should be here any minute now.

"Oh, I think I see her!" Fluttershy exclaims.

"Excellent," I say, "could you answer the door, My Butterfly? I have my hands full here."

Flutters nods and steps out of the kitchen. I hear the door open and the orchard owner steps into the living room. I can hear Flutters and Jackie having a delightful conversation while I get the last minute meal preparations done. Now where did I put my colander? I thought I had it under the sink. Oh, wait, Jackie cleaned up here the other day. I bet she moved it it. If she did it's probably- Yep, there it is, in the cupboard over the sink. She must have asked Flutters to set it there. Well, no harm no foul. I like it there better there where I had it; it's easier to get to. Now to strain the noodles!

The sauce is bellisima! I can taste the hints of oregano and basil and the onion isn't overpowering. It is perfection! I'm getting better with cooking in my old age. Okay, let me set the heat for the sauce on low. It needs to be warm while we tackle the appetizers. There we go, low heat. Now, I need to set the spaghetti in a bowl and get the salads on the table. Not too much longer now.

"I wonder when we're gonna eat?" I hear Applejack say from the living room.

Flutters says, "Stevie told me that he's almost done. From what I saw, he has a three course meal set up for us."

"Hoowee!" Jackie exclaims, "good thing Ah brought me an appetite! Sounds like we're goin' for some good eats!'

"That we are," I say as I look into the living room where my two mares are seated, "by the Hands of The Nailed up Christ! Jackie, you are exquisite!"

The farm mare blushes at the compliment but I don't see why. She has on a leaf green gown with gold piping in the trim. The bodice of her gown wraps over her barrel in a V formation. making her look slimmer than she really is but accentuating her feminine curves. I had no idea a dress like this sat in her closet but I thank God that she has it. She also has foregone her Stetson in favor of a gold hair band; her normal plate is more complex than ever, as the braid is now a six strand affair. It must have taken her and Applebloom an hour or more to get that way. All in all, the effect is simply stunning.

"Aw, shucks, Steve," says a bewildered Jackie, "ya'll ain't gotta say that."

"But it's true," I reply, "you are beautiful! I love what you did with your hair! It's so elegant."

"He-he-he! 'Bloom and Ah spent a while gettin' it this way. It's good t' know the effort ain't been wasted."

"No it hasn't, Applejack," Fluttershy comments, "it looks so lovely on you."

"That it does," I add, "but before we delve into a mutual admiration society, I came in here to tell you all that dinner, it is served."

The mares on my sofa drop off it and follow me into the dining room. There, the appetizing salads and bread sticks wait with a tureen of marinara sauce. I started that sometime this morning before Fluttershy came over. Naked cooking can be exciting, but I had to overly cautious to ensure I didn't singe my gonads off. I should have taken Spike's advice and gotten myself an apron. Who cares what somepony thought of it, my genitals and fire don't mix.

Fluttershy and Applejack take a seat around the round dining table I had made. I can see Ay Jay practically drooling over the salad, bt in a fit of gallantry, she decides to wait until I sit down. She really didn't have to, but I like that she employs some restraint. Later on, restraint will be the least thing on her mind. As soon as I sit down and say a little prayer, we begin to eat. Applejack polishes off six breadsticks and her salad with gusto. Fluttershy daintily eats her salad and dips her two chosen breadsticks in the marinara sauce with the tips of her wings. Her look of joy at the combination is well worth the terror of nearly burning off my Johnson. When Ay Jay sees Flutters in gastrointestinal bliss, she tries her own hoof with the breadstick/marinara combo. Cue shuddering, taste bud explosion!

"Wow, Steve," Ay Jay exclaims, "Ah didn't know ya could cook."

"I do what I can," I say, "living the bachelor life, I've had to adapt to eating just for myself. Eating out all the time is stressful to the mind and sore on the wallet."

"Ah'll say," Applejack replies, "last time Ah went out fer dinner, I darn near lost me a foreleg an' a hindleg!"

I chuckle at that, "An arm and a leg, huh? Yeah, some places can be like that. That's why I eat at home. Save some of that hard earned lucre."

As the appetizers thin out, I excuse myself to bring out the entree. The pan of tomato sauce and the spaghetti bowl I set in the middle of the table on either side of the lit candelabra. All three of us help ourselves to generous portions of the pasta and sauce. I then need to give a minor tutorial on the proper etiquette for eating spaghetti. Fluttershy is little timid in slurping up the noodles but Applejack gets it in a thrice. Soon, there's slurping of noodles and a great conversation going. Jackie tells us about the harvest for the year; she has a prize apple that is going to Appleloosa in the fall. She claims it to be the biggest apple on this side of Equestria. I haven't seen it, but I take her word for it. Fluttershy tells us about a new friend she made while helping out her bear, Harry. A badger, from Flutters description, and a right friendly one, too. My understanding of the weasel family relative is that the creatures are tenacious and onery. How fluttershy was able to get the beast to favor her would be beyond me if I didn't know the animal wrangler so well.

Jackie manages to go through three plates of the pasta while Flutters and I manage to get through one. Normally I eat more than that when it comes to spaghetti, but Ay Jay practically inhaled most of it. That then brought us to desert. once again I excused myself to get the last item of the meal. When I brought out the teramisu, I saw Ay Jay's eyes shrink down to pinpricks.

"What in tarnation is that?" the farm mare inquired.

"Desert," I explain, teramisu. I haven't made it in a while and some of the ingredients are harder to come by here, but I think it should appeal to your tastes."

"And, uh, why would ya think that?" Jackie asks.

"The secret ingredient," I tease, "so let's dig in!"

I parcel out the desert, giving ghr first slice to Applejack, the second to Fluttershy and the third to myself, then we tuck into it. Which would have been fine if the treat wasn't so foul tasting. It was kinda comical that all three of us spat out the desert simultaneously.

"Blegh! That was horrible!" Ay Jay ejaculates.

Flutters comments, "But it sounded so good…!"

"I don't know what went wrong," I moan, "I've made this before and it's never been this- awful before."

"Ah wouldn't make it again, if I were you," Ay Jay says, "might be insultin' to some, I figure."

"I want to try it again, though," I defend, "something in the mix doesn't add up for me."

"I'm sure you tried your best, Stevie," Fluttershy assures, "maybe next time you could sample it before serving a bad batch."

I nod, but I feel a little bitter about the awful confection I made. I swear, I didn't forget anything.

"Uh, seeing as desert wasn't so good, why don't we try some ice cream," I tell them, "I have three whole pints of Death by Double Chocolate in my freezer."

"Sounds good t' me!" Applejack exclaims, while Flutters nods. I go back to the kitchen, snag three bowls, an ice cream scoop and two pints of y favorite ice cream and return to the kitchen. We spend the next half hour devouring cold, milky goodness as the memories of fouled up cake fade away. Even with the false start of the failed desert, it was a good evening.

"Ah tell ya," Jackie comments, "Ah'm as stuffed as a prize pig. Ah don't think Ah can eat any more."

"I'm full, too." Flutters moans, "I wonder if Rainbow Dash has any fitness programs she could recommend?"

"Maybe she does," I quip, "but I can think of a fun way to burn off some of these calories."

Flutters gives me bedroom eyes but Applejack is looking a little nonplussed.

"Follow me," I say, as I get out of my chair, "the fun has only just begun!"

The three of us have just entered my bedroom. Ay Jay has seen this room before, but tonight, she'll be the center stage attraction. No understudy duty for her. The room, once dark, is now light up by a vibrant hues of orange, red, yellow, and pink. Cadence would be proud; the candles add a romantic ambiance to the room and make the evenings entertainment that much more special. Fluttershy helps out by pulling the bed down from it's wall perch. Like the rest of the furniture, my bed is stowed away into a recess in the wall. It makes cleaning up a breeze, although I often forget to put it up again. Thankfully, the design Applebloom and I came up with makes the bed both sturdy and comfortable. I've been on beds like that before; the design of those often leave me with a sore back a few springs poking into my backside.

I sit on the bed while Fluttershy takes to a chair in a quiet corner of the room next to the lone window. Luna's Moon hangs in the sky, providing additional light in the space, and adding more relief to the ready warmth inside. I pat a space right next to me, looking at Applejack. She seems hesitant, but she sidles up next to me anyway. Given our seating positions, Ay Jay is slightly taller than I am. I share a smile with her as I try to make the mood more palatable for romance.

"Would you mind if I kissed you, Jackie?" I ask the farm mare.

"Uh, well, okay," she replies, the blush on her face painting her cheeks with the color of roses. I lean into her muzzle and press my lips to hers. Like the last few times we kissed, Ay Jay is a little reluctant to go too deep. I'm sure that she and Lone Star Prench kissed before, but she's currently- afraid? Maybe even a bit bashful. Huh, what do you know? She was more than willing the other night. What gives? I break form the kiss and give Ay jay a meaningful look.

"Everything alright, Jackie?" I ask, "I'm not going to fast, am I?"

"Nah, ya ain't," the Earth pony replies, "I'm just, uh-"

"You can tell me anything, Jackie." I assure her, "nothing that goes on in here will ever be made public. This is as much your home as it is mine."

"Oh, okay," Jackie says, a hint of her nervousness fading away, "well, Ah like ya and all, I really do. It's just uh, it's just-"

"You're not comfortable with me?" I ask, "you seemed pretty comfortable when I helped you during your last heat. The other night was pretty hot, too."

"No, no, it ain't that," Ay Jay protests, "it's just that uh, Ah don't really 'member too much about what happened that week. Ah was in a daze, ya un'rstan'? Ah didn't know much about what was goin' on an' I don't rightly recollect if Ah liked it or not. Also, Flutters is in the room with us…"

"What was that last part?" I query."

In a vehement whisper, Jackie repeats, "Fluttershy is in the room with us!"

Now I'm nonplussed, "Is that a problem?"

"Uh, kinda," Ay Jay says, "Ah, uh, uh, Ah-"

"You're safe here, Jackie," I tell her, "this room is sacrosanct."

The farm mare gives me a confused look but when I give a reassuring nod, she whispers, "Ah, uh, Ah kinda have a- thing for Fluttershy… Ah don't- Ah don't want her to see me doin' this."

"I don't think that's an option, Jackie," I add, "she saw you in the throes of ecstasy when you were in heat…"

"Consarn it!" Ay Jay exclaims, "Ah'm so embarrassed…"

"Is that why you wanted to join our herd,?" I ask softly, "because you wanted to be close to Fluttershy?"

I get a nod from the farm mare.

"Applejack, are you bisexual- by any chance?" I chance asking.

"Oh course Ah ain't!" the farm mare shouts, "uh, of course, it'd help if Ah knew what you meant by that."

"It means that you like mares and stallions." Fluttershy explains, "Is that why you seem so nervous with Stevie and I?"

The farm mare nods her head vigorously, "Ah didn't wanna admit to bein' attracted to mares, now. Ah thought that if Ah had a stallion, it'd all go away. And Ah Like stallions, Steve, Ah really do! Yer just about the most beautiful thing Ah ever done saw… Ya know, next to Fluttershy."

Dawning realization hits me, "Applejack! If you're more attracted to Flutters than me, I'd understand. Satisfying two mares is going to be difficult, I can tell you that. If you wanna stop-"

"No, no!" Ay Jay insists, "Ah'm okay with it. The other night, ya made me feel- Ya made me feel like a real mare. Lone Star- He never did what ya did, bringin' me to climax like that. I was a little nervous, what with my- fillyfoolin' an' the mem'ries o' that- scoundrel."

"So you're okay?" I ask.

Jackie nods her head, "Ah am. Outside of Lone Star, Ah ain't ever been with a stallion afore. I'm kinda- new to this. Just- be gentle with me, ya hear?"

"Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!" I swear.

"I'll help out too. If you like-" Fluttershy adds.

A small smile crosses Applejack's features, "Thank ya kindly, Flutters. It'd be mightily appreciated."

"Why don't we try that kiss again," I say "you know, once more with feeling."

Ay Jay nods. This time, I can feel the passion inside the press of our lips. I think it also helps that Fluttershy is removing Ay Jay's gown with her wing tips. I can feel the farm mare giggle a little at the idea of a fellow mare stripping her down. When I dart my tongue between Ay Jay's lips, she is obliging in opening her mouth. In fact, her own tongue comes out to greet me. The elongated appendage writhes in my mouth, feeling along my gum line and searching me teeth. My own tongue isn't anywhere near as long as a pony's, Fluttershy can attest to that, but I probe her gum line with equal vigor, tasting the healthy orthodonture that is the pony mandible. It's even more intense then the kiss we shared the other night. When we break from the kiss, a string of saliva spreads between our maws; Ay Jay's eyes are blissfully unfocused.

"Wow," she says, "just- wow."

"And we even gotten started yet." I tell her, "My Butterfly, would be so kind as to excite our herdmate. Something tells me she'll be more than happy accepting your ministrations."

"Okay," Flutters says, "Applejack, would like to lay down?"

"Uh, oh, sure," Jackie says, "Are ya, uh, are ya goin' to- prime me?"

My Butterfly nods and dives right into the farm mares folds. The gasp the Earth pony mare gives are exhilarating, to say the least. I can feel my manhood twitch at the scene before me: Applejack, spread eagle over the bed, Fluttershy, teasing and playing with the farm mare's marehood like an eager lover. It's a small wonder I haven't come in my pants yet. Speaking of which…

"S-S-Steve, what in the hay are ya doin'?" Applejack asks sternly.

"Getting comfortable," I reply, as I strip myself of my tartan, shirt, and kilt. This leaves me bare to the eyes of the mare with whom I intend to make sweet love to. (Good God, does that sound like a Harlequin novel, or what?)

"G-g-golly," Ay Yay says, "Ya'll is- hah!- Ya'll is- all kinds o' tight- ugh!- in there! Augh!"

"With compliments," I say, "do you think she's ready, My Butterfly?"

Flutters looks up to me, a hazy look in her eyes and the farm mare's lubricant smeared on her muzzle, "Yes, I would say so."

"Excellent," I add, "so, Applejack, are you ready for the main event, no pun intended?"

Ay Jay nods, "Just let me get into position."

Applejack then flops over onto her belly, lifting her tail to show me her proud and slick lower lips. Her legs are braced onto the mattress, waiting for the mounting.

"Uh, Ay Jay, I don't think that position is gonna work." I tell her.

"Huh?" Ay Jay asks, equal parts incredulous and breathless, "why not?"

I show her the obvious problem as I kneel to her backside; my privates aren't sitting low enough to reach her marehood.

"Consarn it!" the farm mare exclaims.

"Don't worry, Applejack," Fluttershy says, "why don't you lay on your back again. Stevie and I use that position quite a lot. It's actually really good and it's kinda kinky. Oh, but in a good way!"

"Alright," Jackie concedes, "Ah'll try."

Applejack flips on her back again. I maneuver around her until I'm looking at her succulent folds again. My erection is standing proud and ready.

"We're taking this slow, okay?" I tell her, "let me know if you're uncomfortable."

The farm mare nods. I start by rubbing my Johnson up and down her slit; this sends Jackie into a fit of moans. Her eyes, once unfocused after the job Flutters did on her, are now brimming with passion and lust. She takes a look at my pride.

"Ain't it kinda small?" she asks.

"Great things come in small packages," I quip, not letting my ego roar in fury, "ready for me?"

The farm mare nods and I begin to penetrate her. The outer ring of her passage is tight and corded with muscles. Even with the extra lubrication I added to my pride, it takes considerable effort to gently plunge into Applejacks depths. Once my head is inside, though, the walls of her love canal grab onto my member; their grip is so strong that my penis practically glides into Applejack. The soft, pleasurable sigh she makes tells me that I did well. I'm drawn to the hilt, bottoming out inside of Applejacks heated core. I'm starting to pant a little, this feels so good.

"Good so far?" I gasp and get a nod in return.

"Wow," Ay Jay pants, "it's even better than I thought! That head o' yers… It's like it was made for me."

I take a grip on Ay Jay's heaving flanks, and ask, "Ready for more?"

"Uh-huh," she breathes, "make me yers!"

I nod and start to thrust. I keep my pace slow and steady, trying to not traumatize the apple farmer. We may have done this before, but her memory of the event is hazy; she wasn't even certain she liked my manhood in the depths of her folds. Once my rhythm starts, however, the farm mare begins to quiver. I keep the pace going for several minutes until Ay Jay begins to push against me. I'm certain the message is "give me more." I'm more than happy to oblige.

My thrusts are coming in faster, driving harder. Ay Jay is writhing against me, panting and moaning in a pleased way. She whispers my name when she manages to get a good breath and all the while, her body shivers in bliss. Her back arches, in a way that I didn't know was possible for a pony. Her moans are getting louder, her breathing is getting more shallow.

Some time into the tenth minute of our lovemaking, Fluttershy decides that she is in need of attention. She sidles back onto the bed, straddles Ay jay's muzzle and the farm mare begins to lick and nip at My Butterfly's slit. The mares are moaning in unison now, Applejack to my thrusting, Fluttershy to Applejack's seeking tongue. Flutters is writhing and moaning in pure, unadulterated bliss. When her climax reaches and peak and goes over it, her mare cum spills out into Applejack's waiting mouth. The farm pony swallows every last drop. Good God, that is a sensual sight if I ever saw one.

When Ay Jay's passage starts to throb and flutter, I just know her own orgasm is moments away. Sure enough, the apple farmer convulses, moaning loudly into the night, her canal gripping and stroking my member, stoking an already blazing inferno in my loins. I can feel my scrotum bulge with a load of potent baby batter; I'm doing everything I can to prolong the moment of release. Ay Jay and Flutters have released another three times by the time I can no longer hold it in.

With a final, deep thrust and a groan of exertion, my orgasm rips through me, forcing a geyser of seed to spill forth from my member. The flood of spunk fills Applejacks love channel, nesting deep into her womb and flooding back out in waves. The rush of splooge filling her belly and the twitch of my cock inside her is enough to cause one more potent orgasm in Applejack. Her body quakes violently as her pleasure rolls over her senses in a tidal wash of utmost joy. She comes down, panting, moaning, quivering slightly, while I continue to spill my seed into her belly. Fluttershy falls onto the bed, still wracked by the intensity of her own bliss, brought about by Ay Jay's talented orifice. I have one last spurt to give before exhaustion turns out the lights in my head…

It must be well after midnight when I wake up, comforted by two warm bodies draped over mine. Fluttershy is wrapped around my middle, her forelegs squeezing my abdomen to her muzzle. Applejack is in my arms, nuzzling my face with her muzzle. The peach fuzz coat of her face is slightly ticklish; I smile as the events of last night play out in my mind. The contented, no, the satisfied look on Applejack's face tells me all I need to know. I nuzzle her back and unexpectedly see her eyes flash open. I give her smile.

"Sleep well?" I ask.

"Mhmm," Applejack says, "Ah ain't slept so well since my ma and pa died."

"Sorry to hear that," I say genuinely, "I think they'd be happy knowing you're in such a loving relationship."

"Ah hope so," Ay Jay says, "by the way, thanks, fer last night. It was way better than Ah thought it would be."

"You're welcome," I say, "anytime you need a little release, you know where to find me."

Applejack chuckles a little at that, "Ah sure do. When do ya think we can do that again?"

"Anytime you're up for it," I confirm.

Applejack nuzzles into my chest and asks, "Would it be too presumptuous to tell ya that Ah love ya?"

"Enope,"I inflect, "not at all. I love you to, My Fair Apple Blossom."

Another giggle, "Say that again."

"My Fair Apple Blossom."

Applejack lays her head on my chest again, breathing lowly with a smile on her face, "It sure is nice to know somepony thinks Ah'm beautiful."

"I'll say it as many times as you need it, 'cause it's true."

"Thank, Steve," Ay Jay replies, "yer my favoritest stallion, ever."

I run my hand through her mane and plant a kiss on her crown. Moments later, she falls back to sleep and I soon follow after her.

37 The Obligatory Grand Galloping Gala Chapter

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 38:

I need to keep this short because Twilight is cracking the whips on everyone and everypony. I don't think I've seen Rarity in such distress or Spike looking so harried. Anyway, in less than thirty-six hours, the Ponyville Six a.k.a: The Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, plus Sunset Shimmer, Spike the Dragon, and yours truly, are headed to Canterlot for the forsaken Grand Galloping Gala. Twilight is, well- frazzled would have been the word I'd use, but she surpassed that state three days ago. It's more that she's gone into a manic frenzy. We need to get some decaf in that filly… It's wonder her mane hasn't caught fire yet. Sunset is being run ragged; she hasn't had any time in the last two days to make snide quips at my expense. I've been a little busy myself, what with helping Applejack and Fluttershy look gorgeous for this gala and getting my tuxedo pressed and ready. I'm still nervous about meeting the forsaken Canterlot Nobility. It's promising to be a rough night… The only bright spots in the evening's festivities are that I'll hanging out with my mares and maybe, if all goes well, I can catch a glimpse of Princess Luna. I'm keeping my fingers crossed…

"Twilight, seriously, you have gone over that Celestia forsaken checklist ten times in the last hour!" shouts a voice from the upstairs loft of Golden Oak Library.

"No, Sunset," replies an agonized voice, "everything must be perfect! This is the only the second time I've been invited to the Grand Galloping Gala and my first as a princess. I will leave nothing to chance!!"

"She's having an episode," I remark, "should we come back?"

Applejack, Fluttershy, and myself have been in Ponyville's library for nigh unto two hours now. We were supposed to be fetching Twilight and Sunset to get them fitted for their gowns. (Lady Celestia managed to wrestle a ticket to the Triple Gee for Shimmy after a certain noble mare was forced to back out at the last minute. I shan't name who, for I could care less.) The formal ball goes on tonight and if Twilight keeps this up, it will be wonder if we make it on time. I'm debating on whether we should just leave The Princess and her Adjunct here in Ponyville while we subject ourselves to ritual humiliation.

"Hey, Twilight," I call up the stairs, "we're gonna meet you at the train. I'm sure Lady Celestia won't be that surprised if you fly into the gala…"

I think that did the trick; the thunder of hooves comes down the stars and an incredulous Twilight trots right up to me; she's staring daggers and I wonder if I pushed a little too hard.

"What did you say?" The Element of Magic growls.

"I said that Lady Celestia would probably forgive you if you flew to the gala in naught but your regalia," I state, "which at this point is all you'll have time to get on."

Twilight seethes, "Are you suggesting that I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, should show up at The Grand Galloping Gala, the single most important Canterlot event of the year, in naught but my regalia?!"

"I'm not suggesting it," I reply, "I'm saying that if you and Sunny don't get to Rarity's in, say, five minutes, all you'll have to wear will be your regalia."

Cue panic attack in five… four… three… two… one…

"OH MY GOSH!" Twilight exclaims, "we need to get going! Shimmer, get my regalia! Spike, where are you?!"

"I'm right here, Twi," the young drake says. Unlike his adopted mother/sister/boss, Spike is already suited up for tonight's festivities. The charcoal suit he's wearing actually compliments his mulberry scales and the burgundy bow tie he has around his collar compliments his choice color scheme.

"Lookin' sharp there, Spike," I say, "Rarity make that for ya?"

The drake smiles, nodding, "She sure did. Gotta love the superior craftsmareship."

"Spike!" Twilight calls out, "this is no time for a mutial admiration party! I need my regalia. Now!"

"Alright, alright," Spike barks, "Seeing as Sunset can't be bothered, I'll get 'em; keep your horseshoes on!"

The drake disappears upstairs, grumbling up the staircase the entire way. An awkward silence falls on the scene. Then a question I've had for a while comes to mind.

"Hey, Twilight," I ask, "just how am I going to be brought out to all those noble ponies in Canterlot? Am I right to assume that my presence is not general knowledge, yet?"

"Oh, yes," Twilight starts, "Celestia hasn't made it known that there is a hooman in Equestria yet. She sent me a missive about four hours ago explaining that she called a meeting with all the noble houses to explain the situation. Oh! That reminds me! She sent something for you as well, Steve,"

"Something for me?" I ask, "What is it?"

Twilight channels her magic and in brief flash, produces a scroll. She forks it over still held in her aura; of course, when it comes near me, the magical field fails and I'm forced to catch it. When I do, I see it's been sealed with wax. An official government document? Kinda odd… Let's see what this bad boy says. I hope it isn't in Equuish; I'm still having trouble reading it.

"Whoa, wait," I exclaim, reading over Celestia's elegant hand, or should I say, hoofwriting, "a royal decree! And look at this! This can't be right. Am I really an Ambassador from The Terran Empire now?"

"WHAT?!" Sunny and Twilight shout simultaneously.

"Look here," I say, bringing the papyrus down to their eye level, "I know you gals can't make head or tails of the English, but this here, below it, I'm sure that's Equuish. Tell me that doesn't say I'm an Ambassador."

It's actually kinda amusing watching Twilight and Sunset read the same bit of text with an air of incredulity. You'd think I said that the sky was on fire, and despite all evidence to contrary, the denied it until one of them got struck by skyward flames.

Sunny was the first to speak, "I don't- believe it."

"Ambassador," Twilight mumbled, "well, that does simplify matters some."

"Does this mean that if a noble decides to get in my face and give him a knuckle sammich, I could just declare 'Diplomatic Immunity,' and he'd be carted off to jail or a dungeon, or whatever it is you ponies use to incarcerate reprobates?"

"It's not that simple, Steven," Twilight states, "true, under Equestrian Law, you would have certain immunity from prosecution of certain infractions. Short of murder, rape, or foalnapping, you are legally untouchable."

"Well, it wasn't like I was planning on raping and pillaging my way to fame and fortune," I quip, "but, this pretty much guarantees my protection under the auspices of the Princess and grants me civil rights like unto any citizen pony within the borders. Am I right?"

"Pretty much," Sunny says, "I'd be hard pressed to think that you'd be any more protected than with this decree."

"Well, it' nice to know I'm not an in-law," I quip.

"Come again?" Twilight asks, befuddled.

"As the old joke goes," I state, "the difference between an outlaw and an in-law is that an outlaw is wanted. So, too, are ambassadors."

I don't know what is funnier: the anguished groan Shimmer givers off, the broken look Twilight adopts or the rolling eyes of Applejack. Fluttershy and Spike are giggling; at least they have a sense of humor.

"I hate to state the obvious here," Spike interjects, "but don't we have a Gala to get to?"

We get to Rarity's with not a moment to spare. The seamstress in a state of high drudgen, getting last minute measurements, making final adjustments, and generally giving overachievers the Universe over a run for their money. Even with four new customers in the Boutique, Ms. Carousel is bouncing around the Southwest wearing turn up purple pants; General Ross would have trouble lining up a shot to take her out. The state of her mane told me she had been at this for hours; her protegé, Charity Sweetmint, had a similar look, though she looked even more worried than the fashionista.

"Wow," Twilight muttered.

Nopony else muttered a word as Rarity flew past them, adjusting the hems and collars of both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash. Oh, yes, Rarity was in fine form today.

"Back home, we'd say she's busier than a one armed paper hanger," I whisper.

This makes Jackie and Flutters giggle some; I can see Sunset stifle a giggle of her own, though I think Shimmy is having a laugh at the expense of Rainbow Dash. The stuntmare is draped in what can only be described as Greco-Roman Chic. The toga she's sporting is festooned with rhinestones of numerous colors, gold trim and piping adorn the hems, and her pasterns are shod in Greek style sandals, but with heels taller than she's comfortable with.

Pinkie, on the other hand, is treating this like a game of dress up. Her gown, while fairly elegant, reflects her very happy-go-lucky nature. In varying hues of salmon, champagne, lavender, cotton candy, and Tickle-Me Pink, the multilayered ensemble was a frilly pinafore gone straight to Barbie Hell! Oddly enough, Pinkie looks quite comfortable. Certainly comfortable enough to gasp in surprise when we entered, alerting client and business mare to our presence.

"Twilight!" the Pink Party Paradox Pony shouted, "Where were you? Rarity's been pitching a fit! She was afraid you'd miss your fitting! Then she started fretting, because Dashie's dress isn't fitting right, and it seems my dress is just perfect, I mean, have you looked at it? All this pink! Whee! I feel like a dollop of cotton candy!! Oh, we should really see about getting some before we head to Canterlot. I have this huge craving for cotton candy right now. Do any of you guys have it, too?"

"Enope," Ay jay deadpans, "what about you, Flutters?"

"No thank you," Flutters whispers, "I always get that stuck on the roof of my mouth."

"I can't really have any candy either, Pinkie," I declare, "it's bad enough I'm getting stuffed into a monkey suit, I can't imagine how I would fit in it with a belly filled with cotton candy."

"I'm sorry, too, Pinkie," Twilight says, "I don't really like cotton candy."

"Aw," Pinkie moans, "I really want some…"

"Is the pink one always this way?" Shimmer asks.

"Yeah," I answer, "and she gets worse once she realizes your a new pony in town."

"Wait, a new pony?" Pinkie perks up immediately.

"Yeah, I dunno how your Pinkie Sense missed Shimmer here," I reply.

"Yay!" The Pink Party Paradox Pony shouts, "New pony!"

"Uh, please, you don't have to worry-" Shimmer starts before Pinkie wraps her in a hug even Harry couldn't duplicate.

"Pinkie," Twilight admonished, but the pink pony refused to heed, "Pinkie, Sunset needs to breath."

"And we don't really have time to organize a party so fast," Jackie add, "we gotta head to the station in an hour if we wanna make it ta Canterlot in time."

"Oh," Rarity exclaims, "girls, you're here!"

"Been here, actually," I deadpan, "Pinkie's been making a Sunset shake."

"P-p-p-please s-s-s-stop!" Sunset demands.

"Tee-hee!" Pinkie giggles.

"Ah, well then," Rarity continues, "Twilight, your gown is in dresing room A. I think you'll find it a piece of raiment fit for a queen! Or you case, a princess. Applejack, you're dress is in dressing room B; I do believe that Steven will find you smashing in it. Fluttershy, I just finished your gown. You shall be belle of the ball tonight! And for you, Steven, your tuxedo is ready in my inspiration room. Should you need any help, I believe Spike can help you. Isn't that right my Spikey-wikey?"

"Y-yeah!" Spike confesses, "I can help!"

"How very noble of you," I murmur, "I could use some help with the bowtie; I've never tied one before."

"Okay," Spike proclaims, "let's get you suited up then!"

It doesn't take me long to get into my tuxedo; the multilayered uniform is sized just right for me. True to form, Rarity has streamlined the entire thing so I don't resemble a reject from a Prince concert. About the only trouble I really have are the shoes. The wingtip style dress shoes rarity made for me are a bit tight; we were having some issues properly scaling US Imperial measurements (I'm a size 15, wide) to Equestrian measure. (A pony's hoof is significantly smaller than a human foot, especially mine. Go figure.) I might be able to get her to loosen them up some, but given her state of perfection-based mania, I doubt that's gonna happen. Spike was helpful with the bowtie; I've tied a tie before as they were sort of a prerequisite at my old job. A bow tie is another beast altogether. I don't think I could tie one of these flaming things without assistance to save my life.

Once I was fully dressed (Fuck me, these shoes are gonna hurt!), I went back downstairs. Pinkie was fully gussied up, but Ar Dee was still struggling with her gown. It surprises me some to see her mane fully combed and brushed; given her tomboyish nature, I have a feeling it took a lot of persuasion, and maybe some bribery, to get her still long enough to be groomed that way. As long as she wasn't promised a full night with me asher sex slave, I'm good with what Rarity did. My thoughts get torn away from Rainbow's sulky and dismissive airs to see two shimmering beauties walking towards me.

Rarity had outdid herself compared to the last time I had seen the gown Fluttershy was modeling last time. Though much simpler than I had anticipated, it was still gorgeous beyond compare. A golden ruffle ran over her neck and down her barrel, a sheer underskirt supported a gold overskirt with lace appliqué and her front hooves were shodin golden glaives accented by a licorice colored sea shell. It was the amazing sight I has seen so far in my life, at least until I saw jackie emerge from her changing room.

While it lacked the sort of sophistication Flutters was wearing, the ensemble was nothing like I expected to see Applejack wearing. Like, ever. A string tie fastened a formal looking collar around her neck; a rich leather saddle sat on her back, keeping a beautiful silken skirt trimmed with lace ruffles and embroidered apples along the hemline. Her front hooves were shod in a pair of lovely cowboy boots, adorned with the Apple Family Emblem (a giant red delicious apple, no doubt) and her normal Stetson was replaced by a fancifully decorated version complete with an Apple Rose festooned into the trim of the hat. Her mane and tail were the biggest differences to her normal look. Both were brushed to a brilliant sheen and fashionably styled. If I knew no better, I would swear it was jackie that was the former fashion model, not Flutters.

"By all things right…" I murmur, "you two- I may just be dancing with the two most beautiful mares in Equestria tonight!"

Flutters muzzle raises a deep blush; Jackie scuffs the floor of Rarity's shop with a hoof.

"Aw, shucks, Steve," Jackie says, "ya'll just sayin' that."

"Enope," I reply, "seriously, Jackie, you are so damn pretty tonight. I can't lie about that. And Flutters- I swear, think I may need to beat off the stallions with a stick."

Flutters blush deepens, which I didn't know was possible, but Jackie looks at me with a touch of mistrust in her eyes.

"Ya do know that this ain't the most comfortable thing ta wear," Jackie tells me, "just in case yer gettin' any iders."

I shake my head, "I'd rather not like to think what Rarity would do to me if I torn up her creations so the three of us could enjoy a private moment."

Jackie is now blushing as profusely as Flutters. They get spared from their embarrassment by Rarity proclaiming that Rainbow Dash was done with and we could now make our way to the station.

The plan, as Sparklebutt had rehearsed it to us all for the ninth time this evening, was to take the Canterlot Express to City itself, then hop a carriage from the train station to the Palace. So, pretty much, the Scenic Route. I had to ask why all the hassle if we were going to a place where the Bearers were as welcome as the nobles and got a head shrinking lecture about arriving in style and with proper pomp from Rarity. I tuned out after the first minute; it was really hard to pay attention to the fashionista's rambling when I had to beautiful mares at my sides.

Fluttershy was resting up for the evening, her head gently settled on my lap while the rest of her was laid out on the cushion of our seat. She wasn't quite asleep, but I could tell she was very close to taking in a nap. Applejack, on the other hand, was talking animatedly to Pinkie. Unlike our other herd mate, she was comfortable enough to lay against my side, all the while keeping up a conversation with her fellow Bearers. Every now and then, she would be a cheeky little filly and sneak a kiss or two on me. I would be equally as cheeky a sneak a few on her. Fluttershy would be just as affectionate, albeit, she would give me a look like she wanted me to kiss her. It was too damn cute to deny her, so I would meet her lips as she rose up to meet mine.

Eventually, Dash sidled up to the three us, coming as quietly as you please. She sat across from us in the plush Royal carriage of the Canterlot Express, looking all the part of the cat who ate the canary. I don't know what her motives were, but the smile on her face unnerved me.

"So," Dash started, "seeing as Princess Luna is the one hosting the gala this year, it kinda looks like there's actually gonna be some excitement this time around."

"Wouldn't know," I respond, "wasn't at the last one."

"I know that," Dash eeks out, "still, I bet there's gonna some good grub and maybe some dancing. Normally, I'm not one to dance, unless I happen to be among friends. But, I think I can squeeze in a waltz or two if you feel up to it."

"Sorry, Dash," I reply, "I'm pretty sure my dance card's full."

"He's right," Jackie adds, "between me and Flutters, there ain't no room for ya. Sorry Dash."

Stifling a rejected look, Dash waves an aloof hoof, saying, "No, no, it's cool. I just- wanted to put that out there."

The prismatic Pegasus gets off the seat she once occupied and leaves, her countenance a little more crestfallen than it was ten minutes ago.

"You know," I sigh, "I really hate to make a filly sad, but Dash just does not get it."

"I know, Sugah," Jackie replies, "she's got her featherbrained mind made up, though. And she can be more stubborn'n me."

"Yea, verily," I say, "I don't think this will be the last word Dash has on me tonight."

The Canterlot Express stopped at a secluded railway station I was told was commonly used by The Royal Guard to transport large platoons and smallish battalions from elsewhere in Equestria back to the Capitol. Seeing as Twilight was using her Royal Privileges to get this private drop off point. We got off the train just as dusk fell upon the land. Our arrival was met with a cohort of of the uniform unicorn officers in a standard phalanx formation. (I have no idea how I know those terms or why all these military terms are getting in my head. This has been happening for a while and I haven't thought much about it. Now, I'm getting a little more than unnerved.) The contingent of guards met us there, polite as you please, and bowed reverently to Twilight.

"Your Highness," the Guard Commander, a unicorn stallion, said, "I am Southern Cross. My orders are to escort your companions, yourself and Ambassador Ambrose to the Palace. If you'll follow me."

Twilight said nothing, but gave a slight nod. We fell into step behind her and the guards. We marched for a length of ten minutes, bypassing quite a lot of the city as did so. The route we took was a scenic drop track that looped around the majority of the city. Jackie and Flutters flanked me as we climbed the steep path. I looked over the city as we trekked; I can't remember the last time I saw a city so beautiful. I've been in New York a few times and even seen The City from the observation deck on the Empire State Building. It doesn't compare; Canterlot bests The Big Apple by numerous orders of magnitude. I can't believe Twilight grew up here!

Our string tromps along the route we are lead through until Canterlot Palace comes into view. The last I saw it, it was a sight to behold but that was during daylight hours. The nighttime visage of the stately kingdom seat is a sight to beautiful to describe. Already I can throngs of ponies marching into the building and a legion of golden armored guards doing crowd control. I don't think measure is needed because from what I can see from here, the Canterlot snobs are absolutely tame. Well, I guess The Sisters are cautious enough to realize even a simpering crowd of Canterlot may still harbor traitors and assassins. Moving on…

As we approach the milling throng, I can see heads turn. (Good Christ, so many unicorns!) Anyway, our group walked up to the gathered nobles; every pony, from the oldest and most venerable noble to the newest of monies, bowed to Twilight's presence. I can see the alicorn's brows knead in consternation. She takes all in stride as she parses the crowd before her. We clear the strings of ponies and are ushered in by a another group of Royal Guards. More nobles populate the halls we pass to get to the ballroom, many of which adopt a simpering smile (the shit eating grin I've come to expect from politicians) and a sycophantic attitude. I can hear Rainbow fake retching; I think if I were acting any less well behaved, I might have followed suit. Eventually, our guides take us to the Grand Ballroom, one of several I'm told in use for tonight, and are ushered into the room itself. It's not like the Remote Command Center deep in the bowels of the palace in size, but it takes a close second place.

A sizable mob has formed here, filling in most of the available space on the floor, but there's still room for plenty of ponies, likely servants, to walk among the guests. Twilight and her friends sidle on over to the buffet line because, let's face it, we're all hungry. I get about five paces in towards delectable sustenance when I get pulled away by some beefy, alabaster unicorn stallion in Regulation Uniform Dress . His cutie mark is concealed by the vest he wears, but I see that sigil emblazoned on the breast pocket of the same article. The six point star on a shield with three smaller stars above it looked familiar, but I couldn't place it right then. The stallion stands in way, obviously expecting me to recognize him. I think…

"Excuse, Mr. Ambassador," the stallion speaks, "I'm to escort you to a private audience with Princess Celestia."

"Uh, yeah, sure," I squeak out, "Sergeant Lonely Hearts."

"That isn't my name," the stallion protests, "my name is Shining Armor."

"Of course," I reply, "well, let's get this over with…"

I let Armor take me to a part of the ballroom floor where I can see the familiar visage of the porcelain alicorn. She is resting at a cushion by a high table at the back of the room. There are several ponies, I want to assume they're nobles, milling around her. Judging by the subtle pained look on her face, she was suffering the tortures of the damned with the nobles hemming her in. My approach must have been mana from heaven.

"Ah, Ambassador Ambrose," Celestia exclaims, "it's so wonderful to see you here again!"

"Likewise, Lady Celestia," I reply, choking off a half salute, "and I see you spared no expense to welcome my friends and I. I am honored."

"The honor is mine," Celestia says, then after a beat, "all mine."

I have to chortle at that. Avatar: The Last Airbender comes to mind when she says that.

"So," I mention, "private audience, eh? Doesn't seems so private if'n you ask me."

"I do apologize for that," Celestia answers, "the heads of several notable noble houses came here tonight in hopes of having a chance meeting with the newest ambassador to foreign kingdom."

"I see," is my reply, "nothing like starting diplomacy early, I suppose."

"You read my mind," the porcelain princess replies, "but that can come later. Care to join me in a small repaste?"

"I wouldn't mind," I answer coyly, "let me just get my dates for the evening."

"Of course," Celestia said, a gleam in her eye, "Applejack is still perusing the buffet table. I believe Fluttershy is having a discussion with Spike about something. Shall I can them over?"

"No, I'm good," I tell her, "besides, I need to get used to milling about in large crowds of ponies."

"Good luck then," Celestia tells me, "Try not to get too lost in the crowd."

What a strange thing to say… I find my brides in less time than it takes to speak their names. Flutters saw me and trotted to me, wearing the largest smile I've ever seen on her. I know she isn't very good in crowds but she seems to be handling herself well. Jackie, was already on her way, according to her, to speaking with the Princess. On her back was a loaded plate of so many pastries it could give a body diabetus. With both of my herdmates gathered, I returned to Celestia. She proffered seating for all three of us, which we gladly took and then she beckoned several of the noble houses together, along with some foreign dignitaries. She then made the announcement I knew was a long time coming: that a human was amongst the ponies of Equestria, he was intelligent and he was a member of the ancient Terran Empire. That last bit got a few shocks from the minotaurs in attendance. (Just when I thought this place couldn't get any weirder…)

Twilight come up to the table after a while, wanting to speak with her former mentor. By that time, I had pumped so many hooves, claws, and hands that I was beginning to lose feeling in my one good hand. As Equestria's newest princess, Twilight was immediately swamped by nobles, asking for favors, making business proposals, and hard as it was for me to believe it, a marriage proposal or two. If Purple Smart ends up with a hangover tomorrow morning because of the copious amounts of alcohol she needed to consume to wipe out much of the memories of this night, I would not pass judgment. Lord only knows what those slimebags wanted from her. I bet a few of those greedy gammy gowl are looking to raise their family stakes. Vultures, the lot of them. I'm certain Cloud Dancing would have a few choice words to say to these losers.

After a while, Fluttershy asked if me if I would like to dance. I said yes, and included Jackie along for the ride. We got onto the dance floor, at this point in the evening was nigh deserted, and boy, did we cut a rug! It was kinda awkward, the way in which the three of us set for even the simplest of waltzes. Fluttershy placed her left forehoof on my right shoulder and Jackie planted her right forehoof on my left shoulder; I held their opposite forehooves in both my hands. We spun about like that for seemed like hours… I didn't care that the other ponies on the floor stared at us, we were having the time of our lives. We danced through at least six different pieces before any of us were too pooped to party. By the end of our little session, neither Flutters nor Jackie could stay on their feet.

We returned to the high table, where Celestia was deep in conversation with a unicorn stallion. A noble, of that I was sure by his bearing and demeanor, but the monocle on his eye and the mustache were telling me he wasn't some snobbish, elitist dickhead. The light gray stallion has a sigil of three crowns on his flank and his mane and tail are a light azure. If i didn't know any better, I'd swear he lived in that tuxedo jacket of his. I didn't really want to wait around for this guy to greet me, shake my hand with his hoof and snide make a snide remark at my expense.

"Hey girls," I ask of my dance partners, "any of ya'll need some refreshment? I'm catching some cottonmouth, but I thought it rude to just get something for myself."

"Oh, yes! I could go for some punch right about now." Fluttershy requested.

"Ahm gettin' mighty parched, too," Jackie added, "mind gettin' me a glass o' punch, han's'me?"

"Three punches," I reply, bowing slightly, "coming right up."

Ugh, more nobles, more false prostration, I can feel my bullshit-o-meter reaching critical levels. I manage to wade through them, which I guess is helped by the fact that I'm a good two feet taller than most of them. I grab three glasses, have them filled by a servant pony manning the punch bowl and return to the high table. Celestia is still in her congress with the fancy Canterlot noble. Good, I ain't got to deal with him, for now. I return to my mares, giving each a quick kiss before giving them their drinks. I say a quick prayer that these aren't spiked (no pun intended) with Skywalker whiskey. Over the course of the next hour and half, I return to the bunch at least twice. My mares are now fully rested, but each wanted to trot off to somepony they hadn't seen in a while. I thank God I'm not a jealous husband. I watch them leave in separate lines to friends, family, or complete strangers.

Alone and currently feeling a small sense of agoraphobia sneaking up on me, I picked my way through the throng, heading for any door I could find. I needed some air. I find some doors, with clear panes of glass telling me that there is blessedly clean air beyond the barrier. I slip through a gaggle of ponies trying to vie for my attention and get to the French doors. Getting to the door, though, is a sight easier than getting through them. I do get past them eventually and am greeted by a warm breeze and clear air. I take a whiff and exhale loudly.

"Ah, that is just what the doctor ordered," I exclaim, "and such a pretty night. Kinda surprised that nopony suggested that the Gala happen out here."

I didn't expect an answer to that rhetorical question but I get one anyway.

"Somepony did," replied an imperious voice, "but we were shut down, is that the phrase?, by our sister."

From behind a pillar in the garden walks a dark mare with a flowi- Oh, damn, it's Lady Luna!

"Princess," I say, bowing slightly, "a pleasure to see you gain, especially in better circumstances."

"Indeed," Luna replies, "the last we met, we were investigating that human throng that attacked Ponyville. I still have not made up my mind if you are dangerous or not."

"That's understandable," I say, "there are times where I'm cucumber calm. Then other days I'm a right rage. I'm betting I could use a psychiatrist before too long."

"Hmm," the night princess scoffs, "in my opinion, you need a room in an insane asylum."

I chuckle a little then look skyward. If the rumors are true, and given what I've seen in my stay here I've doubt there's some truth to it all, then Luna raised the moon these evening. It's a brilliant full moon, making enough light to see with a high degree of clarity.

"The moon is beautiful," I say, "rivals anything I've seen while the sun is out."

"Thank you," Luna beams, "it is not often that I meet anypony who is interested in my moon."

"Welcome," I reply, "ponies don't know what they're missin'. Of course, ponies are a bit skittish. They might not wanna step outside if means facing what they think is the unknown."

"Hmm," Luna murmurs, "I had not thought of that."

"I think about it all the time." I quip.

"I can imagine," Luna says, "being an entity that is by its lonesome in this world."

I nod. It's strange how that simple statement can sting my heart.

"Are you alone tonight?" The Moon Goddess asks, "or are you here with a date?"

"Two dates," I answer, "my herdmates, Applejack and Fluttershy."

"Ah, Miss Jacqueline Apple and Miss Fluttering Shywing, " Luna muses, "Tia had told me of your nuptials. Congratulations are in order, I assume."

"Thank you," I reply, "methinks I'm the luckiest son of a bitch alive."

Luna turns her head sideways, a little nonplussed by my comment, "How are you the offspring of a dog?"

This sets me to laughing, "I'm not! It's an expression, from back home."

"Oh," Luna gasps, "I see. I was trying to discern if you had any canine traits. You do stand a little like a Diamond Dog."

"Pretty sure I'm not one," I muse, "care to sit down, Your highness? Can't be all that comfortable standing on your hooves all night."

"Indeed, it's not," Luna answered, "and I could use a bit of respite."

Behind us is a low set wall. I walk towards it, as does Luna. I always found it fascinating to watch ponies sit. Some, like Lyra, take an almost human stance when sitting down, that is, going down on their rump. Luna is a pony from the other school; she doesn't fall on her rump. Instead, and with a regal precision I wasn't certain a pony could have, she sets down on her haunches, her forehooves placed in front of her. She looks quite comfortable and elegant like that.

"I bet you got taught that in finishing school," I quip, "so beautiful and graceful that move is."

"Why thank you!" Luna says, blushing, "I guess it could be said I learned that in finishing school. It's been so long ago… I don't remember when or where I learned it."

"Oh, yeah," I remark, "alicorns have elongated life spans. Maybe not immortal-"

"But much longer than your average pony's life, yes," Luna finishes, "I seem to have forgotten more than you'll ever know."

"That-" I start, "that sounds rather frightening. If'n you ask me."

Luna looks a bit confused at me, "What do you mean? Don't all creatures, from the simplest cell to the most complex of beings, long for eternal life?"

"I think most do," I answer, "but as the old adage says, 'caveat emptor,' buyer beware. Eternal life without the effort put into it can have lasting, negative consequences. Dontcha think?"

"Hmm," Luna mused once more, "you may be right. I have had my share of misadventures and- sins, during my long life. I have no doubt that if I had lived as a unicorn or a Pegasi, maybe even as an earth pony, the cares and concerns I have dealt with would be naught but dust."

I nodded, "Of course, mortal life has it's perils, too. Even given my newfound health, I doubt I can last another sixty years…"

"Sixty years?" Luna asks, "humans can live that long?"

"Oh, yeah," I answer, "back home, there are humans that have reached the ages of one hundred and ten or better. I think the oldest man alive was 116 when he died."

"Amazing," Luna mused, "to think, humans living for barely a quarter of their average age…"

It was my turn to look nonplussed, "Wanna run that by me again?"

Luna smiles, a mild giggle coming from her throat, "It was long, long, long ago, even before there was an Equestria, long, long before The Age of Unification, long before The Olde Poni Empire, when humans walked this world before… In the days of the Terran Empire, methinks it twas…"

"Oh, yeah," I murmured, "your sister and yourself were around back then."

Luna nods, smiling, "We are that old. It hardly feels like it- We- I remember Sir Ambrose. Before his untimely demise at the hand of his fellows, he was three centuries, one decade, and six years of age. He told me that he was barely at his mid life crisis…"

"Wow," I whisper, "The Old Terran Imperials lived that long?"

"Yea, verily," Luna answers, "methinks the last Imperial Matron was nigh unto six hundred years old. She used to declaim her longevity a result of Imperial Medicine."

I'd be remiss not to mention it, but when Luna lapses into Olde Equestrian, it's really rather cute.

"Why art thou looking at us like that?" Luna asks, "Why dost thou leer at Thee with wistful eyes? Art thine mind affected?"

I laugh a little, "No, I just it's cute when you slip into Olde Equestrian. You sound like an old ham actor reciting Shakespeare."

Luna eyes go wide with surprise and a nervous spreads over her muzzle, "Please forgive me. I still have some trouble with Modern Equestrian and popular speech. Reminiscing on Our- my youth doesn't help."

"Does being nostalgic make you more bombastic, too?" I inquire.

"Bombas-" Luna starts, narrowing her eyes momentarily, "you are a cheeky thing, are you not? Well, back in the day, such speech was considered commonplace. My time on the Moon has left me- rather disconnected with the common pony as well as contemporary customs, though my sister and Princess Twilight have had some success helping me acclimate."

"Good to know," I say, "it's kinda cute when you slip into it, though."

Oh, this is precious! Luna can blush and my last statement made her face beet red.

"Thou are embarrassing Thee…" Luna coos.

"It's true," I say, "although, I wouldn't make a habit. Maybe a sort of thing you do for fun or when you need to to get your point across. Say on some blustery noble who likes to hear themselves talk."

"Well," Luna huffs, "mayhaps We shall- I should try that, sometime."

"You should," I say, "and have some fun with it. From what I've heard, most ponies don't really know the real you. I've heard the worst rumors, but from what I've seen, you're funny, you're thoughtful, and you're awfully coquettish. It's a wonder to me that more ponies don't gravitate to you more."

"You are kind, Sir Steven," Luna replies, "more kind than most ponies after my return. Yet, I do not believe ponies will forget my indiscretions as Night Mare Moon."

"If that's the case," I reply, "maybe you shouldn't be bothered what they think. Just do your best and try not to let your temper get the better of you. Lord only knows I need to follow that advice."

Nothing is said for a while. The two us have run of anything to say. I'm enjoying the light breeze, clean air, and bright moon. Luna, I think she's lost in introspection. A pleasant quiet settles on the garden, which I feel is too important to break. Luna apparently feels different.

"Are you enjoying the Gala so far, Sir Steven?" she asks me.

"If I were, would I be found here?" I reply.

"Hmm," Luna muses, "I guess not. My last such celebration was ages and ages ago. Tia tried to impress upon me how this ball would go. I'm afraid I did not listen to her well enough."

"How do you mean?" I ask.

"The endless stream of nobles, the constant rush of peasants, the overflowing libations… I am aggrieved to admit it, but it is all so overwhelming for me. I don't know how Tia did it for so long…" Luna explains.

I have nothing to say about that.

"Your sister's a saint," I add, "dealing with all of that without complaint." I didn't mean for that to rhyme…

"Agreed," Luna replies, "she is the epitome of Equestrian Grace, Patience, and Fortitude."

"Don't sell yourself short there," I add, "Equestria needs you about as much as anything. That dreamwalking thing… I don't know if your sister can do that. It's a wonder Equestria didn't fall to pieces without you helping regulate the dreams of this land."

"I-" Luna stammers, "you are wise beyond your years. Has anypony ever told you that, Sir Steven?"

"Can't say they have," I answer, "I was diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome when I was six. Maybe I'm using my experience with that to polarize what I see."

"Aspergers Syndrome?" Luna asks, "What is that?"

"It's a form of Autism, have you heard of that?" I reply, but Luna's unknowing gaze tells me that doesn't happen here, "Well, autism is- It's called a developmental disorder. Kids with it tend to have trouble communicating or not communicating at all; they tend obsess over things and often don't interact socially. Asperger's is a version of autism; kids diagnosed with it have difficulty looking into other peoples eyes and have trouble reading body language. They also develop rituals and habits they can't alter. They tend to be clumsy, they obsess over certain things, though they may show a well developed skillset, like musical ability or artistry."

"Oh, I see," Luna states, "but, you seem perfectly fine to me, Sir Steven!"

"Yeah," I smirk, "that's what a few decades worth of medications, psychotherapy, and self discipline gets you. I hardly ever exhibit any of the more troubling aspects of the disease."

"The effort you put in is most appreciated," Luna replies, "it makes you more affable, makes you more- relatable."

"Um, thanks," I whisper, "I try not to let the disease define me. If I were you, I wouldn't let one or a set of foolish mistakes define me, either. If I were inclined to spout clichés, which I'm not, I'd probably throw done something I heard from a wiseman once."

"And praytell, Sir Steven," Luna asks, "what was it this- wiseman said?"

"Are you sure you wanna hear it?" I ask the Goddess of the Night, which gets me a nod in return, "Okay. Wiseman say, 'I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be than me.'"

"That," Luna sneers, "does not sound like the most sage of advice."

"On the surface, no," I add, "but let me rephrase it for ya: 'I'm not perfect and that's cool. I'll never be perfect, and that's okay. I'd rather be me than what other's want me to be.'"

Luna looks down on me (Which isn't really that hard; her alicorn physiology makes her taller than I am even without her horn and I'm six foot, three.) and a I see the makings of a delighted grin come across her muzzle. Then she bends her neck down and muzzles my head. It feels nice, but I gotta wonder what that means.

"Thank you, Sir Steven," Luna says, "your words- they have meaning that I have been searching for but as of yet had not heard from anypony. I do not wish to frighten ponies- but I cannot bow to their expectations. I must be me."

"Okay," I answer back, a little nonplussed, "you're not gonna revert to that Nightmare thing, are ya?"

Now Luna looks puzzled, "What? Oh, no! No, I don't want to return to that- thing, ever again! That was- the most trying time on my life. The Nightmare- I don't really like discussing it-"

"You ain't gotta, if you don't wanna." I tell her.

"Thank you," Luna replies, "I may have to, eventually. My sister only knows a portion of it. I'm afraid of what she would think of me if I told her the whole truth… Or the circumstances that caused it to happen."

"You know, I never did the full story on that," I tell the Night Goddess, "most anything anypony has ever told me was that you were jealous of your sister's fame or something."

Luna scoffs, "If only if were that simple."

"When is it ever?" I inquire.

Luna nods, "True. If you wish to know, I guess I can tell you. Not everything but at least the talking points."

"That's fine," I say, "whatever you're comfortable with."

Luna looks astounded. I get the feeling nopony has ever wanted to hear how she became The Nightmare without being afraid or even hesitant. She sighs, a breathy thing with a lot of anxious behind it, and begins.

"Just over a thousand years ago, my sister and I ruled this nation. We were benevolent rulers, although we had suffered great losses in our time. In that day, I do admit that i was profoundly jealous of my sister. She raised the sun, ruled over the day, and had the love of everypony in the kingdom. I raised the moon, ruled over the night, and was universally feared by everypony. I could have dealt with that, I really could, if I hadn't lost some ponies who were dear to me."

"You lost somepony?" I asked.

Luna nods, "Two of the them, actually. Snowdrop and Setting Sun. Snowdrop is- was, my greatest friend. She was a Pegasi pony filly. She was born blind, a common affliction back in that day. Did you know she was the first pony to develop a snowflake? She did, even blind, and presented it to my sister and I on one a Centennial Day celebration. The others in her class mocked her for such a 'worthless gift' but she defended her creation, saying 'just as the stars of the night sky can grant wishes, so too can stars made of ice.' That moved me… We became good friends shortly there after. I so loved her stars of ice… She died one night, at the age of one hundred and twenty. I miss her dearly, even now."

The other was- The other pony dear to me was my first true love. Sun, or 'Dusk' as I called him, was a unicorn in my sister's court and yet, he was an astronomer. He loved my stars! I remember reading his article about the movement of the various constellations. I still have it, somewhere… I pursued him like no other colt or stallion I had before. Believe it or not, he pursued me, too. It was an unheard of thing back in that day, a stallion chasing a mare. Oh, but what a stallion he was. So bright and warm… He filled my heart with such joy! He became my consort not long after Snowdrop died. I loved him, deeply… I was prepared to grant unto him my longevity, so we could stay together forever. Alas, it was never to be. Dusk was sent out on a survey mission by my sister, to study a phenomenon recently fallen from our skies. A meteorite, we thought. Tia told me he would be back- He did not. The 'meteorite' was actually a foul Caribou weapon. It exploded on my beloved, killing him and all of the research team dispatched…"

Between the jealousy, and the heartbreak, it was too much. The- foulness, that is The Nightmare wormed it's way into my mind, corrupting me from within. By the time my sister noticed it, in an attempt to comfort me for my losses, it was already too late. I had lost my mind to that madness. I even accused her of mocking my distress- Of, of making merry of my grief and downplaying my authority. I regret so much… After my banishment, I was forced to relive those things by The Nightmare. It believed it could rile me to the point of seeking revenge upon my sister. I nearly did… The Nightmare, though, had underestimated my love for Tia and the love I still had for Setting Sun. I could fight it, sometimes, gaining back some lucidity. Not even a millennia of abuse and torture by that insanity could diminish such love."

"And that's when the Elements of Harmony restored you, right?" I ask.

"It was," Luna admits, "oh, the pain I must have caused my sister- the pain she caused upon herself-! It has been such a long time, though and I still mourn. I will always love my sister, but even she can not provide the kind of love I need."

"You mean, the desire, the passion, the want, of a special somepony?" I ask.

Luna nods again, blushing, "I have not been courting in so long. Mayhaps I should again. Though I fear my list of suitors is rather- short."

"You'll find someone," I tell her, smiling, "I mean, you have new friends, right? Ditzy was telling me about that lovely dinner you had with her the other night."

Luna smiles, "Ah, yes, Ms. Hooves. She is most eccentric, but I do enjoy her company, as well as that of her husband and sister. Lest I forget, the Element Bearers have been great companions as well."

"See?" I exclaim, "if you have this many friends, no doubt you'll find a good stallion in no time!"

"Thank you, Sir Steven," Luna alights, "we- I hope you are correct. I would not mind going a-courting again."

"What was that about courting, Auntie?" asks a posh yet arrogant voice.

"It is none of your concern, Nephew," Luna replies, clearly agitated, "and need I remind you I do not take well to ponies eavesdropping on private conversations."

"Why, Auntie," decries the voice, now pouring honey, "I only ask out of concern for your welfare."

"You sound like the only welfare you give a damn about is yer own, boyo," I fire back, "who be you and why is you skulkin' about in the gardens?"

A white unicorn stallion emerges from behind a pillar that supports the gable roof above. He wears a smug grin, and his pristine blonde mane is too tidy to be anything but managed. With a pristine white coat, straight, almost dazzling teeth (I could have gone without that shit eating grin) and trim fetlocks, something tells me this guy has more product on him than your average meterosexual. And not in a good way, more like in a corrupt politician way. I don't really think I like this guy.

"I am wounded, Auntie Luna," the prissy stallion moans, "to be accused of skullduggery! It is the height of slander!!"

"Do you refute the allegations, Nephew?" Luna asks.

"Of course I refute them, Auntie," The Nephew whines, "I am being reviled."

"Kettle, Pot, black," I muse, "the circle is never broken."

"What is that?" The Nephew says, a twitch of his nose telling me he is offended by my presence.

"Prince Blueblood," Luna declaims, "this is Sir Steven Ambrose, Ambassador of the Terran Empire. He is our guest and he is our friend."

"What- I can't-" Blueblood stammers, "he's a monkey?!"

"And a fine 'oota-goota, Solo' to you to pal!" I spit.

""IT SPEAKS?!" Blueblood barks, "Auntie Luna, what are doing associating with this- thing?"

"This- thing?" Luna deadpans.

"I was wondering the same myself," I murmur, "how in all the Nine Hells is that your nephew?"

"And it continues to speak?" Blueblood growls, much to me consternation, "quickly, Auntie, I don't care what his credentials are, we must kill it. Kill it with fire!"

"Blueblood!" admonished Luna, "Sir Steven is an intelligent being! You shall treat him with respect."

Blueblood looks at like I'm excrement he can't be bothered to scrape from his hoof.

"He's no pony!" the false prince bellows, "He has no coat, nor tail, he looks like a something that swings around in the jungle and he smells as funny as he looks!"

"Ha!" I bark, "I'd tell you something funny if I followed you to the bathroom."

The false prince looks aghast, huffing, "What a farce! I bet he has as much mud in him as a ground pounder! Just look at him! I'd rather be caught in last years fashions than be associated with this- filth!"

"Methinks he doth protest too much," I quip, "Lady Luna, do we really have to sit here and listen to this pretentious whiner?"

"No, we do not," Luna seethes, "nephew, if you be so kind, Sir Steven and I were in the midst of a conversation. We like to finish it."

"What?" Blueblood growls, "are you two courting now?"

I look at Luna, who gives me a sheepish grin and an rosy blush, but otherwise, she says nothing.

"We're friends at the moment," I reply, "nothing more."

"Hmph, good," the false prince huffs, "I was afraid that you might sully the bloodline of our royal lineage."

"You are not connected to my sister and I in that manner, Blueblood." Luna growls.

"I mean just imagine," Blueblood carries on, unabated, "if this- monkey, were to soil our lineage with his foulness, I don't think there would be any manner of recovery."

"Oi," I shout, "watch it, boyo!"

"I mean, who would take us the least bit seriously of we let a monkey like him 'muddy the waters.'"

"That's enough, Blueblood!" Luna shouts, but looks like the pompous ass wants to continue. I quickly cast Muffliatus on him, causing his voice to drop into inaudible range. This should give me some time to dispel this idiot of his illusions.

"So," I start, sauntering to the now flailing unicorn, "what do we have here? Back home, we have a term for guys like you. 'A big fish in a small pond,' we say. That's what you sound like. You puff out yer chest, talk a big game, and act important, but when it comes to it, you're nothing but a stuffed shirt. Now, I don't care who you are insomuch as what you do. So far, you ain't sold me on anything you can do. Even so, I don't honestly think you have a say in who or what your aunt does. Capishe?"

I release the spell; relief floods the stallions features but it is quickly replaced by fear which is then dispelled for hate. I don't think he's had anyone tell him off like this. I think it's also likely that he's never had to defend himself in this way before. He looks positively livid.

"Now look here, you primate!" Blueblood seethes, "I am a member of the Council of Nobles. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"Can't say that I have," I reply, "should it?"

That got Blueblood's goat; I can hear him grinding his teeth from here.

"You should," the pristine stallion growls, "not only do I have a connection to the Royal Family, but I also have other important connections. Deep, political connections with some of the most powerful and important noble families in Canterlot, if not Equestria. With but a word, I can make certain that any political agenda you wish to pursue will be for naught and I can assure that nopony in Canterlot, neigh, in Equestria will want to associate with a dirty, malodorous, and obviously idiotic monkey like yourself. Do you understand that, baboon?"

"Baboon?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, "that one is new; don't think I ever heard that one. So, you're gonna make me a pariah, eh? Fine, fine, not that I'd care. If all your friends are like you, you narrow minded, bigoted, and thoroughly asinine dipshit, then I don't want to be in the same room with 'em, let alone the same continent! Do your worst, if you think you're hard enough! I've got better things to do than bandy words with witless malcontents. If you all were excrement, I wouldn't hesitate to wipe you off the sole of my boot with the edge of whatever flag you're waving. Now go away, the grown ups are talking."

"Well I-!" Blueblood starts before Luna steps in, "Nephew, I believe your welcome is, how is said, worn out? Your interests are best served if you return to the gala. Aryanne must be worried sick that her precious Adonis is not at her side."

"Auntie!" Blueblood pouts, "I thought I asked you not to mention her!"

"All the same," Luna replies, "your special somepony is most likely waiting for you. And given her- eccentricities, she is most likely wearing thin on her polite and interested veneer."

Blueblood huffs, stamps his hoof, and turns away. I can hear him muttering about "purity of blood" and "pride of your race." It all sounds vaguely, and disturbingly, familiar. Fascism in Equestria, who knew?

"Well, I guess I know who is not going to get an invite to the Terran Imperial Embassy," I quip, "nope, the Ambassador of The Terran Empire is not going to allow that jackass into His People's House, nosir."

"I apologize for my nephew," Luna says, "normally he is a morally bankrupt toerag, but neither Tia nor myself have seen him in such a state. I believe his consort is responsible for his rather abrupt change in attitude."

"Are you sure?" I ask, "Looks to me like he's been this way for most of his life. He just lost his composure for whatever reason around me."

"Maybe," Luna replies, "perhaps it is better we sojourn back inside. I would hate to see what rumors my nephew is spewing now."

"So you wanna nip that problem in the bud?" I ask, getting a nod from Luna, "Yeah, I'm cool with that. Besides, I'm willing to say my mares are wondering where I ran off to."

Once back inside, Luna bade me farewell. Apparently, the Gala this year was centered around her; her sister was serving in an auxiliary position. I saw her walk off to greet Celestia, who was once again hounded by nobles. There is no way I could do that job; I have trouble enough being in crowd larger than ten people or ponies. Anyway, that wasn't my problem. I wanted to meet up with my fellow herdmates and didn't take long for me to do so. I saw Fluttershy floating over the crowd, looking for somepony. I waved at her to get My Butterfly's attention. She saw it and made a beeline for me.

"Stevie, there you are!" Fluttershy said.

"I didn't go far," I replied, "just needed a bit of air."

"Oh, okay, Fluttershy breathed, "that's good. Applejack said she saw you coming back in with Princess Luna. Is everything alright?"

"It's fine," I admit, "the Princess and I were having a fine discussion. I got to know more about her than I had before. It was a good conversation."

"Oh, that's nice," she reports, leading the way back to the Ponyville Six with a hoof, "it was really nice of you to do that. Luna is so nice, but sometimes ponies thinks she's really scary."

We parted the crowded hall on our way to the The Element Bearers. Most of the Ponyville Six looked rather happy to be here (again, as my understanding was) with the exception of two. Rarity looked mildly annoyed with something while Twilight was several orders of magnitude of pissed off. The reason for her sour demeanor was a unicorn dressed in a black tuxedo similar to my own, sans pants, with a red mane full of pomade; his hair has enough grease in it to lube the transaxles of at least four cars, by my estimation. He had a cutie mark of pool of silver with steam coming off of it. He wore a look of disdain that was eerily the duplicate of every other noble in Canterlot I had seen tonight. He reminded me a lot of Prince Blueblood, albeit with a lot less product on him. The pomade was in excess, but otherwise he seemed more like a well-off stallion. I still felt he was overly officious…

"Oh, Steven," Twilight exclaimed as Flutters and I came close, "let me introduce you to another important pony of Canterlot. Lord Silver Steam, this is Steven Ambrose, Ambassador and Archmage of the Terran Empire."

"A fine how do you do, my good stallion," Silver Steam chimed, raising a hoof in greeting; I heard a lilting clip in his tone, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Certainly," I replied, not bothering to match his tenor, "same here. Has Twilight been telling stories about me yet?"

"Oh, no," Steam chirped, "no, Her Highness and I have been waxing poetic on various traditions in Equestria. Specifically, courtship and marriage." That last part was said with a subtle nod and a wink.

"Do tell," I smirked, noticing the flustered and annoyed look on Sparklebuttt's face.

"Yes, yes," Steam answered, "I was just saying to Princess Sparkle that, should she need a consort for any reason, she would do well to remember me. My family has a sizable fortune from silver mining and with your Royal Status," (He says this like "stay-tus." Ugh!), "as well your family's connection to The Royal Guard, it could not be more perfect!"

"That's of course," I mumble, "if she can withstand your charms or lack there of."

"Also, should foals come into the equation," Steam tittered giddily, "her power and my looks would make for very gorgeous offspring."

"Well, I can see that as a generous offer," says another voice coming from behind me. Steam, Twilight, and myself turn about to see a handsome Pegasus stallion with a misty grey coat and a fine mane of russet and amber. On his head is a headdress that would be fine upon the head of an Apache or Comanche Indian chief or even upon the crown of a Pacific Islander Chieftain. He gave a small curtsey to Twilight; the mare in question gave a brilliant smile in return.

"Cloud Dancing," she whispered, "thank Faust!"

"And who would you be, my good stallion?" Silver inquired.

"I can answer that one," I say, giving a brief questioning eye to the Pegasus; he nods for approval. "This is Chieftain Cloud Dancing, of the High Plains Ponies in the Mild West. He is here, like I am, as part of a diplomatic envoy from his nation. Am I right, Chief?"

"That is correct," Cloud Dancing assures me, his deep baritone register much more vibrant than mine, "my people and the Buffalo tribes are here with the express intent of having a private audience with Princess Celestia. Trading rights, settlement of border disputes, peace treaties, that sort of thing. Princess Twilight has been our mediator since talks began. It has been a most product three months. Our final negotiations were take place later this week. We, Chief Thunderhooves and myself, were invited as a token of goodwill between Equestria and our tribes."

"Yes," Twilight exclaims nervously, "and, uh, Chief Cloud Dancing and I have become good friends during the negotiations. By the way, Chieftain, how are you enjoying the, uh, festivities?"

"They are more boisterous than what my ponies are used to," Cloud Dancing declares, "although the food is better."

"Canterlot's finest chefs at work," Steam announces, "have you tried the strawberry quiche? it is devine."

"I do not believe I have," Cloud Dancing says, holding out a well trimmed but unshorn fetlock, "Your Highness, would you accompany me to the buffet table?"

"Certainly," Twilight says bashfully, "I could use some food myself."

The alicorn and Pegasus trot off into the crowd. For a moment, Silver Steam is all smiles until he realizes his quarry has sauntered off with another stallion. With a look of grim determination, he follows after them. I'm not sure how he'll do that; the gala itself has attracted many of the citizens of Canterlot here tonight and the throng is so dense it's wonder the heat gradient in the ballroom has increased exponentially.

"Saved by the Chief," I smirk, "I don't think Twilight is as fond of Steamy McStuck-Up-Pants as he wants to believe."

"No kiddin'," Jackie confirms, "by the way, Rares, what bee got in yer bonnet this evenin'?"

"Huh? What?" The Fashionista mutters, "Oh, sorry everypony. I'm just a little put out. I had the distinct displeasure of meeting with Prince Blueblood again."

"You too, eh?" I ask, getting a nod and a frown from the prissy mare, "I've met him as well. If you were to look up 'narcissism' in the dictionary, in one of the definitions you might read 'See Prince Blueblood.'"

This earns a snicker from everypony in earshot, including an especially derisive one from Rarity.

"You can say that again," Rarity uncharacteristically snorts, "I met him at the last Grand Galloping Gala. I was hoping he'd be a dashing prince. As it turns out, he was more of a, what was that word you used Steven? Oh, yes, he was a schmuck!"

"He sure is," Rainbow Dash scowled, "he tried hitting me up tonight. Can you believe that? I wouldn't give him the time of day."

"A true scoundrel, ain't he?" I ask; I get many nods of approval.

"I still can't believe that horrid rogue would even think to parley with me after the last time," Rarity laments, "it's a good thing he hasn't tried for Twilight yet. Celestia only knows what she would do given half the chance."

"If'n I was a bettin' mare," Jackie reports, "I'd say she'd geld him, then and there."

Half of my Ponyville friends turn green at Jackie's statement, most likely turning sick from the visual of that idea.

"It ain't like Ah'm the only one who thought of that," Ay jay adds, defensively, "I bet plenty o' mares in th's town feel the same way."

"Most likely, Apple Blossom," I answer, "which is why Cloud Dancing's arrival is Blueblood's only saving grace tonight."

"Chief Cloud Dancing's here?" Dash asks.

"Yeah," I reply, "I just him and Twilight waltzing up to the buffet table."

Rarity then says, "Ah, how romantic! Whisked off by a knight in shining armor."

"Actually," Pinkie Pie chimes in, "Cloud Dancing is a Chieftain in Pegasi feathers."

Rarity gives Pinie the stink eye, to which Pinkie nonchalantly asks, "What?"

"Don't pay her any mind, Pinks," I say, "she's just a little put out that you stomped on her chivalrous romance metaphor."

We all get a quick chuckle at that, even Rarity, though her's is somewhat strained. We only stop when a certain alabaster alicorn strides up to us.

"Excuse me, my little ponies," Celestia announces, "but if not trouble Fluttershy or Applejack much, I like the honor of asking The Archmage of The Empire for a dance."

I give each of my mares a questioning and worried look. My Butterfly and Apple Blossom give me assured looks. I guess dancing with Royalty can't be too fraught with danger, political, social, romantic or otherwise.

"I don't think that'll be too much trouble, Your Highness," I answer, "ladies, if you'll excuse me."

I take a quick glance at Applejack and Fluttershy before placing a hand tentatively on Celestia's withers. I worry that they might see more into this gesture than what is intended, but both mares give me huge smiles. I just pray that I don't end paying for this sometimes later. The Princess and I walk onto the dance floor, parting ponies in our path. Many of the nobles give us death glares as we move past. Even so, many stay silent, owing due respect to their nation's ruler. When we get to the dance floor, Celestia rises on her hind legs, imitating what Flutters and Jackie did to dance with me. Celestia easily towers over me, horn or no horn. The obvious height disparity raises some giggling amongst the Peanut Gallery but it dissipates rather quickly when the Princess' hooves reach to an outstretched hand and around my waist. Celestia is a quick study…

"Maestro, if you please?" Celestia requests of the orchestra leader supplying the music for tonight. I hadn't given the musicians for the night a single glance but now that I look, I can see several prominent artists making the melodies for this shindig. Octavia Melody, who I know only by reputation, is here wiedling her cello, as well as a few other famous musicians. Once they start up an upbeat waltz, the gossiping and whispers of ponies stop. I can hear the collective gasp of ponies as Celestia and I start out on the waltz.

Just like with Flutters and Jackie, I'm surprised that Celestia is as agile as she is on two legs. She is also very graceful, given the unnatural manner in which we're dancing. She holds her own fairly well. We're getting the crowd of onlookers as the waltz continues. I don't know if the rubbernecking is the result of curiosity or if the collective ponies here are aghast that their leader is stooping so low to entertain a monkey like me. Either way, I could care less. There is something else in this dance than what most ponies see. Celestia's magical telepathy is giving me some insight in the long-lived matriarch. Her mental voice confides in me a deep distrust. She feels that, as a human, I am as equally as responsible for the acts of terror and destruction that The Terran Empire was responsible for before it fell. She fears that I, too, might one day lead a war to destroy ponykind. Unfortunately for me, I can't respond to her accusations, imagined or not. I'd like to refute her claims, but I have no idea how. The Voice in my Head is strangely silent on the issue. Et tu, Voice?

I'm saved by the mental tirade by the intervention of Celestia's sister. She comes up to us as Celestia's diatribe reaches a fever pitch. She asks Celestia if she can cut in, to which Celestia blessedly acquiesces. Luna now takes Sunbutt's place, with little to no change in the tempo of the dance itself. I didn't think it possible but Luna is even more graceful than her sister. Well, given the little sit down thing I witnessed earlier this evening, I shouldn't have any doubt about that. As a pair, the two of us take over the dance floor. The difference between when Celestia and I were waltzing and Luna's turn is subtle but noticeable. The hold on my waist is actually rather gentle; I have a feeling that Luna thinks my frame is rather fragile. She's right to a degree, but I have had worse damage before. Also, there's this goofy grin on Luna muzzle that doesn't seem to go away. Man, I thought Luna was cute before!

Our little rug cutting was far more eventful than Celestia's turn with me. I can see far more scowls on the faces of the nobility than I'd like to see. I don't know why there's this open hostility in the air, but Luna seems oblivious to it. Might be better that way. Given the way she described her fall from grace, I have an idea that if she were to see her subjects display such vehemence, she would not take kindly to it. By the way we're twirling around the dance floor, I think Luna is deliberately ignoring the disapproval of her subjects. I guess she's taking my advice to heart. I think that's first time anyone has ever listened to my advice before. I has a happy now!

The music finally wavers, signaling the dancing portion of the evening was at an end. Of course, being a member of Royalty, I believe Luna wanted to end this whole event with a bit of flair. (Has she been talking to Rarity? I sure hope the Hell not!) She takes the hoof in my hand and moves it to my shoulder. She then begins to spin me around and around. I'm afraid to tell her about my motion sickness but thankfully she stops before my gorge rises too high. And then shen dips me, like men do with women after a tango back home. I did not see that coming. I'm a might dizzy, my stomach is lurching in the worst way but despite all the discomfort, I'm having a blast. When I steal a glance at Luna, she seems pleased as punch. So, yeah, that was a thing…

It was several hours later that the Grand Galloping Gala was officially ended. I had a few dances with my friends and my mares and another waltz with Princess Luna. It was, I'll admit, a lot more fun than I was let on. I think I've said before that I'm not one for parties; agoraphobia plus Asperger's kinda socialization a tough row to hoe. Still, this is probably the most fun while not being balls deep in a mare. That reminds me, I promised Flutters and Jackie some extra fun tonight. I hope they aren't sour about those dances with Luna. Truth be told, I hadn't expected her to do that. (Especially towards the end of the second one, where she nuzzled my neck as the song ended. That was a few leagues of weird.) Still, it was less than wholesome reluctance that we all gathered at this joint Twilight knew well: Donut Joe's Diner.

Considering the amount of pastries this world has thrown at me so far, I was the least bit surprised that there were donuts here. Albeit, I had figured they be in places like Ponyville or Trottingham, not here in the very heart of Equestria's most sophisticated city. Wise man once say, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." I hate relying on cheap metaphors and cliché, but this one hits home in this instance. There's donuts here, so I see no reason to be baffled or complain about it. From Twilight tells me, these are some of the best donuts in Canterlot (Do I even wanna know?) if not Equestria.

The laughter of my friends from Ponyville is, without a doubt, infectious. Even Fluttershy, who as is socially awkward as I am, joins in on the gaiety. The proprietor of the shop, Donut Joe, takes our orders personally. He is taken aback when he gets a gander at me, but unlike the other residents of Canterlot, he doesn't hesitate to greet me warmly. I give him a hoofbump just because. After he takes our orders (Pinkie and I have the biggest orders.) the stallion retreats to the back to make our pastries. I join in on several conversations going on and even laugh at a rather saucy joke Rarity recites for all gathered. It was a good time had by all. When Donut Joe returns, he's not alone. He's followed by a busboy (Buscolt? I don't know.) and both ponies are laden with trays filled with donuts. Joe has his trays suspended in his magic aura while the busboy is dealing with his trays along his back and wings. They unload our late night snacks, even Spike's bejeweled creation, and return to their other duties.

By all things Bright, do these donuts taste good! I used to think Krispy Kreme donuts were good, but Donut Joe can easily best Krispy Kreme without a sweat! Maybe it's the ingredients, maybe it's the preparation, or the lack of additives, but man, those donuts are heavenly. I don't remember how many I ate. I know I had a few of Rainbow's donuts; I still have the hoof shaped bruise where she hit me. (And she calls that a "love tap?" Bitch, please!) I almost made the mistake of eating one of Spike's donut's. Thankfully, I had the good sense to question why the donut in my hand was damn shiny…

Twilight had to force us to leave Donut Joe's, not before leaving a tip mind you, but just as all of us were getting comfortably numb. Apparently, we had a train to catch and the Princesses hadn't reserved us any rooms in the Palace for tonight. That was fine with me; I was next door to dead and I wanted to be asleep with my mares tonight. I don't think we'd get any love making done but by the looks of my lovely mares, I don't think they'd be up to it, either. Our whole troupe walked out of Joe's and meandered back towards the train depot. By this time, all our were feeling as if lead lined our hooves, and in my case feet. Still, we trudged on and managed to get to the station with minutes to spare. Our party shuffled into the car with hardly energy left to us. I'm pretty sure Rainbow and Spike crashed within minutes of lighting on a seat.

The train left the depot only fifteen minutes of our embarkation. It was a mostly silent trek back home. Rarity was still seething about Prince Blueblood but otherwise she was jovial if a might exhausted. I know them feels, bro. I was having the damnedest time keeping awake on the way back. It was probably no the best idea to consume so many donuts, but it couldn't be helped; they were so delicious! Flutters and Jackie were leaning against for the ride back; poor Flutters was dead to The Universe. I was half tempted to peel her out her Gala dress but with Rarity there, I was pretty sure I'd catch some flak for doing an "inappropriate act." Jackie rested on me and we talked all the way back in low whispers.

Out of all the Ponyville Six, she was the one that was anxious about what Celestia was doing during her waltz with me. She asked me very pointed questions about what The Princess was doing while we danced. I told her she was just concentrating on where her hooves fell, but I gave both my mares The Look. You know The Look, right? The one that says, "I'd like to tell you more but not now, in mixed company?" I've seen my parents do that with each other. Some of my married friends at church did the same thing, especially those I was assisting with Home Teaching. I'm sure they got the message. It was getting pretty late and I don't think either of my mares wanted a drawn out discussion about Celestia's accusations.

When the train finally stopped in Ponyville, we disembarked with all the haste our weary bodies would allow. Pinkie Pie was all for having a nightcap back at Sugarcube Corner, but none of the girls were up for it and I was doing an excellent impersonation of a zombie. We bade each other good night, and those furthest away tromped off to our homes. (Dash having the easiest time of doing so as her cloud house was parked near the train station before she left for Canterlot.) I lost sight of Rarity and Pinkie Pie just after Sunset and Twilight returned to the Golden Oak. Halfway home, Flutters just collapsed, the poor dear. I lifted her into my arms and carried to Sweet Apple Acres. Jackie followed me back The Wolf Den and it was decided we all sleep in the same bed that night. I helped My Butterfly divest herself of her vestments while My Apple Blossom kicked off her gear enthusiastically. I stripped out of my tuxedo, not bothering with any sort of bedclothes. I just wanted to lay down with my mares and sleep.

Nude, tired, and hoping for a good nights sleep, I slipped into bed, carrying Fluttershy with me. Jackie slipped in behind me and we cuddled against each other. Jackie on my back, Flutters to my front and me in the middle. I pulled the covers over us all; both of my mares snuggled up to me in the dark of the night. The heat of both ponies against my bare skin was enough to elicit a happy moan from my throat. The wonderful comforts of my own bed and the two loves of my life sent me straight to sleep…

Back At Canterlot Palace:

Celestia lazily made her way back to her bedchambers but not before visiting with her sister in the Night Court. The Gala was the highlight of an otherwise boring day. It certainly went better than several of the Galas the Alabaster Princess had hosted while her sister was banished. It was almost as good as the one she invited then unicorn Twilight Sparkle and her friends to last time. That was her most memorable Gala to date. Still, these left her drained and in a foul mood the next morning without being plied by copious amounts of caffeine. When she walked towards the throne room,s he saw a sight that thrilled her: Luna, smiling effervescently. She seemed more joyous tonight than any night court she could remember witnessing. It was then that a thought struck Celestia. It was both horrifying and grotesque in it's implications. She saw how Luna reacted when she danced with the human, Steven Ambrose. It was then the whole of her being shrunk inward, with the most damning of realizations: her sister was in love with the human!

38 You've Got to Know When To Fold 'Em

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 40:

I don't care in which dimension you find yourself in or what world you suddenly inhabit, but whether they're human or pony, the media is a pack of jackals! It hasn't even been forty-eight hours since the Grand Galloping Gala has ended, and the vultures with quill and notepad are out for blood. It seems their current obsession is for an entity they've labeled, “The Intelligent Orangutan.” I'll give you three guesses who that might be. Their zeal to get the heart of this story has them descending onto Ponyville and haranguing the citizens here. It's gotten bad enough in the last few hours that Princess Sparkle has issued an edict preventing the journalists from hounding everyday ponies. She's even printed a statement about yours truly to stifle the frenzy; it hasn't really helped.
Just a bit ago, I got cornered by some Pegasus reporter asking me about the Gala. Some of the questions the mare fired at me were rather- personal. I answered only what I choose to answer, but this didn't stop Little Miss Nosy from pestering me further. I have no idea where they got the idea that I'm linked, in whatever fashion, to royalty. Well, I do know Princess Twilight, but that's by proxy of Fluttershy and Applejack. Then the nosy mare hits me with one hell of a loop: Am I in a relationship with either of the Cosmic Sisters? I had to have that question clarified. This mare, whose name I understood to be Harsh Whisper, explained that rumors were abound in Canterlot, saying I was dating either Princess Celestia or Princess Luna.
I gotta say, I've never been more surprised in my life! Me, dating a princess, one of the Alacorn Princesses? Perish the thought! I'll be the first to admit that the Sisters are pretty. Celestia carries herself rather regally for an equine entity. She is as radiant as the star it's professed she controls. Luna is lovely, too, even if she acts more imperious. Given what I found out about her at The Gala, I can't blame her for acting that way. She's been separated from Equestrian society for nigh unto a millennium. The attitudes and customs of that era are still with her, even if they died out centuries prior. She's pretty much “time and tempest tossed.”
I- don't honestly think either one of them would date me, especially Celestia. During our dance, she made it pretty clear she doesn't trust me. She's of the mind that all humans are bastards. From what memories and information I've gathered, her grudge against humanity is warranted, if now a little out of date. I know for a fact that the Proletariat were responsible for the bomb that killed the Equestrian queen and king. I know that, still suffering from grief, Celestia staged a one filly war against The Terran Empire. And I know that she issued an order to purge her kingdom of the “scourge that is humanity.” Twilight might balk at the thought, but she engages in that tactic, “neutralizing” human threats wherever she sees them. She damn near put Homo Sapiens on the endangered species list here! I'm probably the first human she's hasn't been able to “cleanse” from her world in well over five centuries!!
My- well, memories of the Terran Empire show me the results of her sorrow. As an act of retaliation against the Empire, she razed the Imperial capital city of Pivot. Her memory, and grief, must be long to still be carrying that grievance. In any case, I need to be careful around her in future dealings…
In other news, Hand That Mourns has returned to active service. I didn't even know she was offline. According to my pneuma ex machina, she was busy trawling within The Ecumene, whatever that is. She said she was searching for some data that might help me with my duties as the Archmage. I asked her why it took her so long to look up this information and she replied that she took so long because she searched the entirety of The Ecumene; she unfortunately came up empty. Any mentions of The Imperial Archmage were either missing or heavily redacted. She didn't have the clearance necessary to read the unaltered files. Worse still, some of the files she looked for where in places where she could gain no access whatsoever. “By the Hand of the Matron,” they were labeled. Hand assumes that either House Majesty or House Proletariat classified those documents.
What that means is, I'm back to square one. I'm totally in the dark when it comes to how this Archmage business means. I'm also clueless about The Voice In My Head or now more accurately Voices In My Head. There are now more than one, and each seems to bring some kernel or nugget of knowledge about the office of The Archmage. It doesn't help that they come in like auditory hallucinations. I know for sure that Twilight thinks I've lost all sanity. Truth be told, I'm beginning to feel the same way…

My morning is greeted by the sun peeking through the curtains in my bedroom, just it has done everyday for last four months. I know I’ve said it before, but I am not a morning person. The fact that I'm romantically involved with two of the earliest risers in Ponyville has not changed my disposition on mornings. Methinks they are The Devil! In any case, I know I went to bed last night with a pair of warm bodies keeping me comfortable; as dawn breaks this day, I find those two lovely mares missing from my mattress. Oh, well.

Owing that I'm now wide awake, I may as well grab a shower. After a shower I may just get some breakfast. If in the interim I happen to come across My Apple Blossom or My Butterfly, I'll give them a kiss, maybe a small token of my affection and if they're up to it, an afternoon quickie. Jackie isn't one for having sex in the midday, but I have never known Fluttershy to shy about a roll in the hay. It's one of the few things she isn't painfully awkward about. Well, may as well get out of bed.

“Hey, there!” Comes a voice from the kitchen.

“Hullo,” I reply, looking toward my kitchen at the mare seated at my dining table, “what brings you here, AJ? I thought you were supposed to be tending the fields.”

“Oh, Ah am,” Applejack says, “just figured ya might want some breakfast first. Cain't go wrong with corn flakes and apple slices!”

I seat myself, taking of the proffered foodstuffs from my marefriend and take a big whiff, “A better start than I had planned. Thanks, Jackie!”

“Yer welcome, Steve,” AJ replies, then she adds, “Steve, I know ya know Ah'm the Element of Honesty, right?”

I swallow a bite of cereal and sliced apples and say, “I do. Aside from from your lovely smile, it's the best part of you. Why so doth thou ask?”

“Well,” the farm mare answers, digging a hoof into the floor, “It seems that we got us some reporters from Canterlot wanting an interview with ya. Cain't rightly say why. I've been keepin' held back, well away from ya, but soon'r or later, ya'll gonna need to speak with 'em.”

“Great,” I moan, “the bottom feeders are upon us. Well, thank you Jackie; I got plenty on my plate already, as you know-”

AJ nods, “As yer mare, it's mah duty to keep ya safe from harm and whatnot. If'n ya want, I can send 'em packin', though Ah'm pr'bably gonna do that ennyways.”

“I'll talk to 'em,” I shrug, “best to give 'em something so they can back off. I know they ain't gonna stop until they've trampled over every tree in the orchard to find me. Might as well head 'em off.”

Jackie gives me a smile and nod, which fades quickly into a grimace, “Ah got some other news that Ah think don't think yer gonna like.”

I've swallowed a good size bite of my breakfast before I reply, though I recognize the awful fidgeting AJ is prone to when she has to tell an uncomfortable truth, “What kind of truth?”

“Well” Jackie begins, “Ah know ya'll cain’t read the paper, seein' as yer written Equestrian is kind a weak- Well, I saw somethin' in the Ponyville Express that, well, it ain't pretty.”

“Whatcha mean?” I ask.

“Here,” Jackie tells me, “Ah read fer ya.

“Ahem! 'It has recently come to my attention that the Regents of our fair land are ponies, after all. Given their sheer magical might, they are still mares with feelings as acute as even the simplest of ponies. While this nominally would not phase me, I have encountered a scenario that appalls me to no end.

'Very recently, Equestria has become host to a creature, for lack of a better word, that has the capacity for thought and speech. This creature has been granted every protection of the Crowns while it resides in our fair kingdom. It is purported to have an occupation within the small hamlet he calls his home. This would not usually be my concern, but recent events have come to light that suggest that this creature is attempting to woo the hoof of one my aunts.

'Let it be known that I, for one, do not approve of such a liaison, no matter how diplomatic it may seem. In my humble opinion, this creature, this hoo-man, has no place in pony society and any pony that associates with this foul being is trespassing on treason. Under no circumstances should this hoo-man be allowed to interact or influence our standing regents.

'It is my proposal, on this day of grace, one thousand and three years after Night Mare Moon, that we Equestrians move to isolate this threat from our society, lest he corrupt lonely mares or worse, defile either of the Ruling Diarchs. I propose this, not for my own benefit, but for the benefit of all Equestria.'”

“Who,” I growl, “in the flying fuck wrote that garbage?!”

“The article ain't signed or nothin',” AJ answers, “but Ah gotts funny feelin' Ah know who dun wrote it.”

“Some Canterlot noble snob?” I say.

AJ shakes her head, “Nope. Ah'm purty sure it's Prince Blueblood. This is just the kinda thing he'd do.”

I sigh, venting a small bit of frustration before saying, “I need to see Spike. I've got write a letter.”

It doesn’t take me long to get a shower in, and I’m dressed within ten minutes, so very little time is wasted. I tear through town on my way to Golden Oak, hoping to have a word with Spike. As I haul ass, I hear words of encouragement from my fellow villagers. Most likely, they’ve read the Express this morning, too, and are inclined to disagree with Blueblood. I’ve actually grown to appreciate that about this town. Once they got ever the initial shock, they seem to get along with just about everybody and anypony. It’s the kind of support I could never back home.

Once I finally have the library in my sights, I double time it. I’m at the door in seconds, knocking lightly. After a moment or two, Sunset open the door. Her face goes from expectant to crestfallen in the time it takes for her to register my presence.

“Oh, it’s you,” the unicorn moans.

“Who were you expecting, Shirley Temple?” I ask.

“Never mind,” Sunset moans, “can I help you?”

I answer, “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to speak with Princess Twilight or better still, Spike, if at all possible.”

Sunset levitates a notepad towards her, keeping it far enough away from me so that my nullification effect is prevented and reads through the list. She hems and haws her way through this schedule, presumedly to confirm what she knows of the Princess’ day.

“The Princess is otherwise occupied,” Sunset proclaimed, “she is not to be disturbed. She was given a last minute history project by Princess Celestia. It could take all day to complete.”

I was about to turn away when Sunset added, “But young Master Spike is off, today. I believe he said he going to catch up on his Power Pony comics today. As such, he should be free.”

“Excellent,” I say, “I’ll only really need to speak with him for about ten minutes or so, at most.”

Sunset sweeps a pastern into the library; I take this as my cue to enter. The Golden Oak is like it always is: books, scrolls, ink, and dust. I seem to have caught Sunset in the midst of dusting off the shelves. I see a feather duster laying on the center table and looks like it was recently used.

“Spike in his room,” Sunset informs me, “Twilight is in her lab. Please don’t make too much noise. The Princess is under enough stress as is.”

“I’ll be a churchmouse,” I quip, “won’t be hearing anything out of me.”

Sunset gives me an inscrutable look, but says nothing further. I’m more than familiar with where Spike’s room is. Getting up those tiny stairs, on the other hand, is a challenge. Big enough for a pony’s hoof is a third of the length of my clod stompers. I still get upstairs, but I nearly tumble once or twice. Once I’m on the landing to the shared living space claimed by the Princess and her dragon, I search out for my scaly buddy.

He’s not that hard to find, sitting amidst several towers of comics laid out around his basket-bed. To get to him, I can do one of three things. The first is to navigate the stairs. The second is to call out to him. The third is to swing myself up to the upper level, which is actually pretty easy as the lip of that floor I can easily reach. Clambering up there might be a bother, but I can manage it. Fuck it, let’s do this the easy way.

“Spike, you busy, bub?” I call.

“Steve?” Spike squeaks, and I see him lose his grip on the latest issue of Power Ponies.

“Yep,” I answer, “I didn’t startle you or anything?”

“Nah,” Spike assures me, “just really engrossed in my comic. Why are you here?”

“I was hoping you can help me with something,” I tell the drake.

“You aren’t trying to get Rarity in your herd again, are ya?” He growls, “Rarity is mine, ya hear!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I backtrack, “slow your roll, big guy! The whole herd thing was not my idea. Even though it’s working for me now, I hadn’t really considered Rares a prospect, capiche?”

“You mean it?” Spike asks.

I nod, “Bros before hoes, you know?”

Spike gives a quizzical look to me, but he doesn’t refuse the fist bump I offer. After said bump, he then looks apologetic.

“I’m sorry I got angry at you,” Spike sniffles, “it gets kinda frustrating when you can speak to her more easily than me.”

“I guess it helps that I don’t harbor any romantic feelings for the mare,” I reply, “so all’s forgiven.”

Spike gives me a smile and then hugs me. I return the favor because he’s my friend. When we break away, I can see some tears in his eyes, but he’s holding it together pretty well.

“So, Steve, what can I help you with?” The young drake asks.

“I need a letter written,” I tell him, “in Equuish, preferably. I’m hoping to hit the Canterlot Sunrise Daily before the presses shut down this evening. Can you help?”

“You bet!” Spike exclaims, “let me get a scroll and a quill.”

I leave the Golden Oak in ten minutes time, having spoken with Spike about dictating a letter. He wrote it up and sent it, so I can only suppose that it should show up in The Sunrise Daily in the next few days. There was no way I was going to let that blowhard Blue Balls hand me a new one. My retort should wrangle his fetlocks, for sure.

In summary, I explained that, as a sapient being, I have intelligence, maturity, and judgement to know when I’m overstepping my bounds. While Blueblood never mentioned neither Lady Luna or myself by name, I knew who he was referring to. (I mean, come on, the tallest of the ponies measures just shy of five feet and I stand an even six feet all. Even Celestia has to look up to face me, though not by much.) Even so, I let it be known, in no uncertain terms, that the Princess has every right to have discussions of either a public or private matter with whomever she chooses. Her bratty nephew has no real say in it.

I’m glad I got that off my chest. It’s not often I vent my sizable spleen like that, but Blue Balls has earned my ire in the worst way. I’m more than certain that Lady Luna is capable of making her own decisions. She is a full grown mare, for Faust’s sake! From all I’ve gathered of the errant prince, he’s lucky he can find his crown most mornings. The debauchery he gets up to are legendary by Equestrian standards. What gall the little prince has telling his much older aunt who she can befriend. I thought the whole idea of her joining in with modern society was she wouldn’t get lonely or jealous of her sister.

While I don’t think a single letter is gonna change Blue Balls’ mind, I’m hoping it gives him some pause. He is not the executor of either Princess Celestia’s or Luna’s estates, so he don’t have any vote on what they do when they do it. That said, I fear that Celestia has made up her mind about me. She was ambivalent before, but now she’s certain I’m trouble. Maybe she sees my engagement to Fluttershy and Applejack as a ruse? That’s a fine trick! If I wasn’t sincere in my affection for either of them, why would they be in my herd unless- Oh, shit that does make sense. She thinks I’m trying to weasel my way into Equestrian Society.

It’s not a bad idea, per se, but it’s not the plan I’m running with right now. I like it here; there’s more going on positively here in Ponyville than I got in thirty-five years back home! Why would I want to leave? Hell, why would I want to ruin it all? Maybe that’s what Celestia is thinking. I’m a double agent of a sort… Mind you, I’d slaughter every single member of House Proletariat just to get some peace from them. Why in the name of all things bright would I work for them? A problem for another day. Oh, look, here comes Fluttershy!

After a few simple errands, I return home. I did manage a little bit of work at Midway’s place, so the day wasn’t a total loss. The light workload still gave me a decent sweat so a shower was order, again. Well, to be honest, the shower came after entertaining Fluttershy for the afternoon. More on that later…

A little while after setting up dinner to cook did a knock come at my door. This would be Derpy, delivering the mail. She has the early evening run while Blossomforth handles the midmorning run. It’s not that unusual for Derpy to turn up just as dinner is started, although she seems to be running early today. Gotta wonder what that’s about.

I open the door, barechested, and to no surprise there’s Derpy.

“Hey, Steve,” Derpy chirps brightly, “got your mail!”

“Thanks, Derpster,” I reply, “a little early for the evening run, ain’t it?”

“A little,” Derpy answers, “but this was a special delivery. Look at the sender.”

I do as Derpy suggests and my eyes water a little at the script on the envelope. I can scarcely read it, it’s so messy. It’s no handwriting I’ve ever seen, save for the untidy scrawl of an elementary student. Amidst the loops and whirls of the signature, I see a shape that looks vaguely familiar. During all this time I’m examining the envelope, Derpy wears her brightest smile.

“Derpy, is this letter from Princess Luna?” I ask.

The mailmare nods, “Yes it is! I promised Her Highness I’d deliver to you in pony, and I did!”

“And you can read this?” I ask, pointing at the childish scrawl on the envelope.

“Yes, I can,” Derpy says, pointing a hoof to her eyes.

“Oh, right, walleyes,” I moan, “sorry Derpy. I didn’t mean to insult.”

“It’s okay,” Derpy says, “I’m not even mad.”

“Next time,” I continue, “I’ll try not to sound surprised and/or appalled. I’ll try for amazed.”

“Okay,” Derpy chirps, “be sure to read that, huh? You wouldn’t wanna upset Princess Luna now.”

“You got it,” I stammer, “Thanks, Derpy! Is there anything else in your mailbag for me?”

“Nope,” Derpy says, “that was it. Well, I better get going. I may be early now, but who knows what else might slow me down?”

“Too true,” I say, waving my friend goodbye, “later on, Ditzy!”

I watch Derpy take flight over the canopy of trees and soar towards Ponyville. Once she’s nothing more than a pinprick in Celestia’s setting sun, I turn and close the door. I tear into the letter, pulling out several sheafs of parchment. One of the pages was written in a now familiar script that I associate with the Sun Goddess. The other pages in the envelope were filled with a tight script I didn’t recognize. At the beginning of the missive, the writer seemed to have trouble putting all the words together; later on, they started to grasp how certain letters could combine to make a word and then chain those words to make sentences.

“Who was at the door, Stevie,” Fluttershy asked, emerging from the bedroom, “you don’t usually get mail this late, do you?”

“Not usually,” I explain, “but Derpy said this was a special delivery. Part of this looks like it was written by Lady Celestia, the other parts- I have no clue. I suppose it was written by Princess Luna.”

“Why don’t you read it,” Fluttershy engendered, “we can puzzle out who wrote what.”

“Okay,” I agree, “let’s see… This is definitely the sun princess. Listen to this:

‘To Ambassador Steven Ambrose of the Terran Empire,

‘No doubt you have have read an opinion article singling you out on an imaginary topic. I have no doubt about the writer of that opinion piece; unfortunately, I do not have the power to reprimand the author or rescind the article in question. Nevertheless, what was printed on the page was the opinion of a ne’er-do-well and braggart. The author is less educated about your position and intelligence that any of the nobles in Canterlot. It is my advice that you not rise to his bait. Seeking a confrontation with such an individual may result in your defeat. They may bring you down to their level and beat you with their expertise. I ask that you stay above the fray; the opinion of a single author is not worthy of your valuable time.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia, Herald of the Sun, Regent of Equestria, Daughter of Queen Astraeus and King Eos.’”

“Oh,” My Butterfly whispered, “that isn’t so bad. It seems like Princess Celestia wants you to forget whoever wrote that nasty article.”

“Seems so,” I reply, “now, let’s see if this is indeed, a missive from Princess Luna. Let’s see if I can read this…

‘Dearest Sir Steven,’

“Well, that’s a little unexpected.

‘I write this letter today in a number of conflicting states. As it may have been pointed out to you, a certain writer to the Canterlot Sunrise Daily has expressed an opinion that- To be honest, is most unflattering of you. If you have not read or had it read to you, I pray that you would refrain from doing so. If perchance I am too late, then I beg your forgiveness. I could not stop my nephew from authoring such- offal. it burdens my heart that Prince Blueblood would take such an offense of you when you have no quarrel with him at all.

‘That said, I would ask that you not take this lying down, as it were. The Prince may be politically powerful, but that power is not absolute. I believe the modern phrase for this situation is, the ball is now in your court. I pray that you are able to volley it back, right into Prince Blueblood’s muzzle! He is an ignorant toerag and while mine sister has not seen fit to reign him in, it would be a fine piece of poetic justice he gets his just desserts form you, Sir Steven.

‘I have said my piece on this matter; nothing more can said from me. Instead, I would like take this time to write a note thanks for your bravery and congeniality in speaking with the other night. My ponies rarely seek audience from me; even the renewed Night Court harbors a rather sparse attendance. Yet, the words you spoke, even as obtuse as they seemed at the time, have now fully resonated within me. I understand fully what you spoke of. I must do what I can to make myself happy. Only then will my subjects be happy with me.

‘To that end, I would ask a personal favor of you. I- I will admit that I not the most stable of ponies. I am as mercurial as My Moon and more besides. My friendships aside from the Element Bearers and mine sister are all that I have at current. I have been seeking out others to join me in companionship, but too few ponies are willing to spend time with one who was seen as a villain for a millennia. As such, I know of very few of my subjects willing to spend time with me.

‘I know that my temperament is often at odds with my subjects. I am more prone to violent outbursts than even the soldiers that protect my person. Far more, if I am being honest. I fear that my nature has become so abrasive that most ponies would have nothing to do with me. That is why I must ask this favor of you, Sir Steven. If it is not too much trouble, would you be my friend? Given the kind words you shared with me, I feel that you are best suited for this small service.

‘I have- I have not, in recent memory, felt more relaxed than I when I was in your company. Methinks it is because you are neither afraid of me nor do you harbor any of the suspicions and biases my ponies still have. You also have an uncanny knack about how to deal with the nobility. I am sorely vexed by those awful sycophants that I often dismiss the Night Court just to keep myself from listening to their petty concerns. Very few of Canterlot’s elite come to me for legitimate grievances. It is my belief that I can learn as much from you as you could learn from me.

‘I plead now, do this boon for me! I have so few companions who share my love of the night. I do put so much work into painting the night sky. I have heard from a legitimate source that you are an artist. I would love your input into my work, as well. We could trade secrets of artistic merit and I would be delighted to hear how your homeworld’s moon works. Somepony told me that your people have already visited it. I find that fascinating and would love to hear more.

‘I do wish I could put to parchment all that I feel at this moment. I am anxious for your reply, but I fear what may be in your reply. I do hope there is little delay from the time you receive this and the time I hold your correspondence in my hooves. Please send your response with the valiant Ms. Derpy Hooves. She will know how to reach me effectively. May light and love shine on you, Sir Steven. I shall wait.

‘Ever always yours,

‘Princess Luna, Herald of the Moon, Regent of Equestria, Daughter of Queen Astraeus and King Eos.

P.S.: I am quite fond of of a very old bourbon brand, Starkiller Bourbon. Mayhaps you have heard of it?’”

“Starkiller Bourbon?” I ask Fluttershy, because she just gave a very loud, for her anyway, gasp of recognition.

“That is really old bourbon,” she explains, “most of it was made prior to Unification! It’s ancient.”

“Well, Lady Luna is pretty darn old,” I comment, “not that she looks it. I wonder why she mentioned it.”

“Who knows,” Flutters said, “maybe it was a hint for something?”

“Oh, man,” I exclaim, “I wonder if she’s gone all Dumbledore on me! She may have just given me a password for someplace she likes to go to.”

“Oh,” My Butterfly says, “that is interesting. Wherever could she have such a place?”

“Don’t know,” I answer, “but it’s worth sending her a letter just to ask. I just hope she doesn’t think I can get a bottle of the stuff. I’m pretty sure neither Berryshine or her sister, Cherryberry, have any of that stuff around.”

“I would hope not,” Fluttershy tells me, “that is some really strong alcohol. I think it was banned in most Earth pony cities because it would knock out more ponies than a street brawl! I don’t even think many Pegasi today could drink without serious consequences. It’s more alcohol than anything that exists right now!”

“Whoa,” I murmur, “so, there’s a good chance Berryshine doesn’t have it. Good to know.”

My letter to the editor found it’s way in the pages of every newspaper in Equestria three days after a wrote. In the two weeks since, I’ve been trading barbs with my ink-and-paper opponent in the op-ed pages. If this is Prince Blueblood, then I can assume he’s using his considerable wealth to keep his views alive and well in the court of public opinion. Mind you, it hasn’t help him much.

Shortly before the back-and-forth diatribes started, I held a press conference at the Ponyville city hall. I had every major news organization in Equestria out there and I explained who I was, how I got here, and what I was doing or planned to do. I made it very clear that I while I was in a relationship with some residents of Ponyville, it was likely that Fluttershy and Applejack (neither of which I mentioned by name) were the only mares to enter my herd and would likely stay that way.

Oh, Lady Luna and I are friends now, I should really mention that. I wrote her back almost immediately after I got her letter. I sent back with Derpy when next I saw her. I think the happy rebel yell I heard that day was Moon Princess’ shout of joy. In any case, we’ve been writing letters back and forth. It’s the first time in a long while that I’ve had a pen pal; I never thought I’d have a leader of a nation writing me, but I’m not complaining. We share some rather ribald jokes at the expense of the Canterlot Elite!

My bit of public relations genius threw whatever plan Blue Balls had out the window. He did his best to salvage it, but by then it was already too late. During our exchanges, he resorted to smearing my name and ran rampant with all manner of libel against me. This didn’t work out well for him; there were a number of ponies present during the Riot of Ponyville that thought fondly of me while I handled the human horde. Very few ponies gave anything resembling negative comments about me.

Some of the more outlandish rumors he started where immediately debunked by honest reporters. I thank The Maker Equestria hasn’t developed the Internet yet; maintaining a pleasant reputation in the Interwebs is like putting lightning in a bottle and twice as hard besides. Even so, Blue Balls opened up with the first salvo and he should know by now that calling me out like that was a declaration of war. And of course, with a friend like Lady Luna backing me up, it was only a matter time before he either backed down or crossed a line.

Well, he crossed that line one Monday morning. He showed up, at the Wolf Den, full guard (not the Solar guard Lady Celestia has; they appeared to be mercenaries) and a smattering of photojournalists were on hand as he challenged me. At first, I thought he was planning on dueling me, because that seemed like the Prince’s style. Instead, he dared me to play him in a game of poker. I’ve said before that I’m not the best gambler in the Universe and I was sure Blue Balls would have the odds stacked in his favor. Still, I accepted his challenge with no reservations.

He listed some terms and conditions for the game: first and foremost, the match would be held in Canterlot Casino. I was good with that point. Then he made it clear that we were having this little tournament a week from now. I guess he figured that I wouldn’t be ready in a week. I agreed, but I made myself sound more nervous than I really was. Lastly, he put in a stipulation about pot limit or a lack thereof. Now that one had me generally concerned. I agree to it, although I knew he could utterly bankrupt me on a single hand.

In the week before the game, I spent a good lot of time with Ponyville’s resident poker champs. There were quite a few actually, including Big Mac. He showed some tricks to pull in a heated round of betting, showed how to pull a perfect poker face (the stallion has that mastered, which I found strange coming from the brother of the Element of Honesty) and helped me learn how the Equestrian version of Texas Hold ‘Em works. I was gonna need a lot of work to match or beat Blue Balls. Twilight informed me he is the top cardsharp in Canterlot, so besting him is about skill as much as luck.

Even with Blueblood’s home field advantage, I did have one ace up my sleeve. During my training sessions with Big Mac, The Voices in My Head told me about a spell that channel Fortune for me. Called Equity, the spell would alter the Balance in my favor. Knowing what I do about my magic and the kind practiced by unicorns, I’m pretty sure Blue Balls wouldn't know this spell was in effect until it was too late. Given my magic trumps Equestrian Magic, I don’t think any security measures he had in place would notice it. He already had the deck stacked against me, so I saw it as only fair to disabuse him of the notion.

Since the game was happening in Canterlot, I figured I should make a showing there and inspect the premises. Canterlot Casino was on the ritzy side of town, a part of the city I had never been to. Sure enough, when AJ, Flutters, and myself arrive at the Casino, it’s about the most unabashed tribute to privilege and excess I can imagine. We walk in and are given the grand tour by the floor boss and owner, Aces High. She tells us about the grand history of the place, shows us the floor, gives complimentary drinks (I ask for something non-alcoholic), and we get shown the changing tables, where various currencies from nations all about are turned into chips backed by bits.

The next day, Fluttershy and I toured parts of Canterlot we haven’t seen yet. Applejack had to return home to oversee the farm work. She trusted Big Mac to do his, but Apple Bloom was another story. Even so, I took a lot of photo’s with my phone so Jackie could see what she missed. We even got some passes to an auction, courtesy of Lady Luna. We didn't get anything, but it was kinda fun to see all these hoity toity types getting one more ridiculous thing after another. We ended up staying in a private suite in Canterlot’s answer to the Hilton, Canterlot Inn.

The day of tournament finally arrived and I was nervous as fuck! This was supposed to be a friendly game, but when have Blueblood and I ever been really friends? Still, I had Fluttershy with me, I had Equity ready to go. All I needed now was a fat stack of cash. I didn’t know if Blue Balls would stake me any; I highly doubt he would. So imagine my surprise when no less than Princess Luna arrives to greet us at the foyer of the Canterlot Inn!

“Sir Steven, Ms. Fluttershy, huzzah!” The Lunar Princess greets, “how wonderful to see you here!”

“Lady Luna,” I bow, “a pleasant surprise to see you here and in the daylight no less.”

“What daylight remains, that is,” the Night Princess reminded me, “there’s only four more hours before My Moon rises again.”

“Too true,” I reply, “so, what we do owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I came here to support my friend,” Lady Luna answers, “especially in matters of finance. I know My Nephew well enough to see that he would draw you here. I also know that he is a high stakes gambler. I have seen him play; not only is he good, but he is used to playing in multimillion bit pots. You will need a sizable stake just play against him.”

“I kinda figured that,” I say, “in a way he’s like the character Hatchet Harry; he plays for high stakes and is good at making sure his game is tilted to the house. I wouldn’t worry, Lady Luna, I got his number good.”

“I am unsure of this ‘Hatchet Harry’ you speak of,” the Night Princess replies, “but I do find that blueblood does favor much manipulation whilst he plays. I would expect him to raise the stakes until you are utterly broke before he brings the hammer down. I suspect he intends to drive you out of Equestria.”

“That he has,” Fluttershy confirms, “he wants Stevie gone! Oh, Stevie, I can’t imagine what will happen to you if you get sent to the Dragon Pridelands or are sent packing to The Griffon Kingdoms.”

“It’s not gonna come to that,” I assure My butterfly, “Blueblood doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”

“That is good to know,” Lady Luna tells us, “which is why I will personally watch for any skullduggery on the part of mine nephew. I will also vouch for you, Sir Steven the sum of ten million bits to play.”

I am stunned, “Ten- ten m-m-million bits?! Are you serious?!”

Lady Luna nods, “You are my friend, Sir Steven. if mine nephew were to send you away- I-I would be lonely, again.”

“Okay,” I murmur, “then I can’t possibly lose.”

A smile graces Fluttershy and Lady Luna’s muzzles. My Butterfly wraps my in a hug; she doesn’t brush away the Night Princess when she joins in. The hug breaks up with a few sniffed back tears. Luna then directs us to a carriage drawn by several of her Night Guards. It’s about the only time I’ve ever really seen them, so the sight of them is kinda unnerving.

“I would not worry about my ‘ledrfladdr’ corps,” Luna assures me, “they may look fearsome, but they are kind hearted. I can assure they do not bite. Much.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask.

“Of course,” Luna laughs, “they are herbivores, like unto myself, although that is in the absence of their preferred prey. They naturally insectivores.”

“Oh, like bats,” I reply, earning a nod from the Night Princess.

I look to Fluttershy and see she has no reservations about these bat ponies. That actually helps ease me into trusting them. Even despite the fanged smile I get from them as I step into the carriage, I feel strangely at ease with these ponies. Luna gives the word and instead flying in the air towards the casino, we’re flying to the streets.

“Ms. Shywing informs me,” Luna explains, “that you are an acrophobe. She told me your last flight to Canterlot really did a number on you. Trust me, Sir Steven, the only flying we shall be doing is via speed.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak at the velocity we’re traveling now. Given how quickly these ledrfladdr run, it doesn’t take us much time to get to the casino. I’m surprised we haven’t broken to Mach 4, given that these bat ponies are amazingly fast. They’d give Rainbow Dash a run for her money! Luna is the first to disembark, then Fluttershy, and myself. The casino is as large as ever, but the crowd is new. There are plenty of reporters, cameras, and leading the pack of jackals, Prince Blueblood, surrounded by cronies plus assorted hangers-on. What I find strange about this scene is a pony I recognize from Ponyville, Red Tape. He’s a stallion working for Mayor Mare and very officious bureaucrat if I ever saw one. Wonder what he’s doing here?

“Ah, yes, IT has arrived,” Blue Balls drawls, “so nice of you to- Aunty Luna, what are you doing here?”

“Mine nephew,” Luna says with a slight growl, “We- I am here as moral and financial support for mine friend.”

“Financial support?” Blueblood asks, “You mean to tell me that you’re backing The Orangutan?!”

“Yea, verily,” Lady Luna proudly declares, “I am.”

“Fine,” Blue Balls huffs, then with a sneer he says, “we’re in the back room. It’s where the really high stakes games are played.”

Along the way, Blueblood explains the rules. It’s just like the Texas Hold ‘Em I played at home, but because we’re dealing with Equestrian playing cards, the names of cards, and only the cards, are different. He makes it abundantly clear that I lose at any point in the night, I’m to pack my bags and leave Equestria, permanently. He then asks what he’s to do if I win. I don’t bother to answer; no doubt, he’ll think it’s an outrageous condition and not play. And I want him to play!

We get seated in one of the backrooms of The Canterlot Casino. It’s very posh, if the ivory and pink marble game table is any indication. Fluttershy and Lady Luna get seats behind mine; Luna asks for the stake she set aside from me in a low whisper to Aces High. She disappears for a few moments before coming back with a rollaway topped with a veritable mountain of bits. Everypony save Blueblood and one other stallion was slack jawed at the fortune laid aside for me. I did find it curious that Red Tape was seated behind Blueblood. The little bureaucrat was speaking to him in low whispers. Yeah, this can’t be good.

“For all in attendance,” Blueblood announces, “my good friend, Red Tape here, will be keeping official tabs on the nights proceedings. Just like my Catch Them spell will ensure fair play, Red Tape is well versed in all the rules of poker and will be enforcing them, with prejudice.”

Our friendly game starts out in earnest. A few hands pass between myself and Bluebloods hoof picked syncophants. I cast Equity just as the game began and it seems to be working. Blueblood had made a special notice about how he had cast a cheat detection spell around the table, so cards up sleeves and spells were supposed to be out of play. All of the other players at the table were unicorns, so I would assume some of these fine stallions had some rather nifty poker-based spells they could cast, judging by their cutie marks. Thus far, I don’t think it’s picked up my own little cheat; time will tell if it does.

The first twenty hands or so were decidedly friendly. I hadn’t lost but neither did I win anything big. I’d take a few decent pots and I would never lose anything significant. Equity was telling me the odds that an opponent had of certain hands; it was working like gangbusters. I would fold when it told me that the other players hands were too good and I would play out any hand I knew was enough to take somepony down. I never lost, which as part of the house rules for this game were concerned, was enough to keep me not only in the game but in Equestria.

One by one, the other players at the table dwindled until it was just Blueblood and myself. The pots had been steadily increasing over the course of the night. Luna had since risen the moon; according to her, it was now well past midnight. Both Blue Balls and myself had a sizable amount of chips on our sides of the table. Just by the look of him, The Prince was out for blood. I was really hoping he would, so I can show him just far he had to fall.

Aces gathered up the cards for one last hand. She shuffled them and dealt our hole cards. She then dealt out the flop and took the first round of betting. We batted calls and raises back and forth for nearly an hour. Blueblood wanted me to be completely destitute by the time this hand was over. I think he might be surprised by how things were going to turn out. My whole cards were a Princess and Knight in Hearts; there was a Harlequin of Hearts in the flop and Equity was telling me Blueblood best hand was a full house.

We had bet most of our current holdings when Aces called for the end of betting. She burnt the top card on her deck and dealt the River. Again, my hand was stronger; Equity told me so. The River was Knave of Hearts. All I needed now was the Twelve of Hearts for a straight flush. Mind you, Equestrian poker has more colors than human poker. While human cards where in red and black, Equestrian decks have Salmon, Leaf, Sapphire, and Gamboge. If I were to get one more Salmon colored heart card, I declare an honest flush. If said card was the Twelve of Hearts in Salmon- I wasn’t going to jinx it. That would just make things worse.

Another round of betting, with Blueblood and I pouring the entirety of our winnings into the pot. Another burn card and Aces dropped the Turn. My heart stopped. I had it, a royal flush! Princess, Knight, Knave, Harlequin, and the Twelve of Hearts in Salmon. Equity reported that Blue Balls had a four of a kind now, Deuces in all four colors. (A rainbow array, in Equestrian Poker parlance.) I had the Prince by the balls, just one last round of bets to place.

“I raise,” the Prince sneered, “against everything you have, hooman.”

“I call,” I sneered back, “are you declaring?”

“Of course,” my pony opponent said smugly, “read them and weep!”

The crowd around the table gasped at Rainbow Array Four of a Kind. It was considered an unbeatable hand. Big Mac told me that some of the largest pots in all of Equestria were won on such a hand. It wasn’t the strongest hand in that mode; if he had all of single hue, he might be able to put up a challenge. The smarmy grin on his face grew as he watched me, the horror struck look I put in place masking my own triumph.

“You are beaten,” Blueblood pronounced, “I expect to you leave in forty-eight hours. Now, if you’ll indulge my curiosity, what would you have me do if you had won?”

“I would have you donate the entirety of your personal fortune to various charities across the kingdom,” I announce, “Lord only knows I don’t need that kinda cash.”

Blueblood nods, his sneer never leaving his face, “Well played. I would never have come if those were the stakes I had to contend with. Now declare your cards!”

I declared them alright…! Aces High called them out as I dropped my whole cards on the table.

“Oh my Faust!” She gasped, “Princess, Knight, Knave, Harlequin, and Twelve of Hearts… In Salmon!”

The crowd had gone breathless and Prince Blueblood lost all color in his cheeks. Given that he wore an alabaster coat, it was kinda hard to tell, but his pupils turning to pinpricks was indication enough. He stammered over words that were not forthcoming.

“Read ‘em and weep, boy,” I declaimed, “Royal. Fucking. Flush.”

And then Blueblood passed right out.

News gets around fast in Equestria. Within a day of Blueblood’s most devastating defeat, the news rags had his mug and his embarrassing fall from grace in print. When I recount the story later to my Ponyville friends, they all laugh at his reaction. He did exactly what I thought he’d do, although he didn’t have a heart attack like Hatchet Harry did. I don’t honestly wish any harm on him, but the schmuck needed an attitude adjustment; I was just the stallion to take him down a peg.

Of course, the disgraced and now penniless fool tried to declare the results of the match void. He declared I was cheating in some way. He was right, mind you. I told him myself what I’d done. Even after a thorough examination of the room and the table as well as the players (including myself) the Canterlot games commission couldn’t find anything. When I confided in Princess Luna about this, she snickered. Maybe she had a vested interest in seeing Blue Balls lose, too. In any case, I didn't leave him completely destitute. Of the quarter billion bits I won off his hooves, I gave him back a thousand.

I was told that was all the money Stinkin’ Rich had on him when he founded Rich’s Barnyard Bargains. I’m more than sure Blue Balls will be able to make something from that. Fluttershy was just happy I didn’t have to leave Equestria. Applejack, on the other hand, wasn’t too enthused about my cheat. She was a little proud that I told Blue Balls about what I did but she isn’t very enthused about me swindling him like that. The only comfort for her was that I didn’t keep the noble’s money. Some very precocious orphans are going to have a very good Hearth’s Warming Eve this year.

39 Let's Start a Riot, Part 1

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 101:

The furor over Blue Balls trouncing has finally died down. It doesn't feel like a full month has passed, but it has. Given how busy Flutters, Jackie, and myself have been, the time just... melted into a single long moment. I've heard that time flies when you're having fun. I don't think I've been so industrious, given the changes that have come upon Ponyville recently, so I guess that applies to working as well.
The Apples have been tending their vast orchard. I've helped out when I can; the sheer size of Sweet Apple Acres is just flabbergasting! I don't know how Jackie and Big Mac take it on all by themselves! All those trees, the herculean task of harvesting all those apples- even with my assistance, it just seems to go on and on. Maybe that's why they start so early. It's still summer, even with the slight chill in the air, but they've been bucking those trees for almost three weeks now. Come November, they'll have two whole barns and their titanic silo filled with their signature produce.
Fluttershy has been just as busy, readying the animals around Ponyville for the coming weather. I know back home, this is something that animals do instinctively, but I guess the higher sentience of these critters makes them more prone to forgetfulness. Or more likely, Equestrians have a higher degree of empathy for their fellow mammals, and thus, ponies like Fluttershy help them make the transition from summer activity to winter hibernation that much easier. When she comes home, it is often that her coat is covered in thistles or her wings have embedded nettles in them.
I'm not going to complain, mind you. Preening My Butterfly's wings is such an intimate act. She and I are so aroused by the end we can barely keep our respective limbs off each other. Jackie can get that way, too. When she arrives at the Wolf Den soaked in sweat or covered in mud, I'm the first to offer her a good bath. One time, about halfway through her shampooing her mane, she pulled me into the tub with her. Oh, the rutting we had that night…
Even with all this work going on, I'm still speaking with Hand That Mourns about this Archmage business. Her continued searches and researches throughout The Ecumene have yielded very little. She once told me that by the appearance of certain telltale markers on the files she's tried to retrieve shows evidence of scrubbing, most likely by members of House Proletariat. She has no idea why they were so thorough in their erasures or why they ordered them in the first place. What she speculates is that The Proletariat were scared of any future Imperial citizen finding this information and using it for whatever purpose that frightened them so much.
In any case, Hand has invited me back to the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters for some additional “cultural acclimation.” According to her, much of my education concerning the history of the Terran Empire is woefully inadequate. As such, she's going to lead me into a “memory retrieval,” in the hopes that past lives may guide me into what I have to do. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, because Hand keeps insisting that the Voices in My Head are something I'm supposed to be experiencing. Something about reliving lives of my predecessors or whatever. If this will get me answers to the questions that have hounded me since turning up here, all the better for me.

It's Friday, and likely the first day in the last while wherein Fluttershy, Applejack, and myself didn't have any other pressing matters to attend to. Since we're free this day, I decided to meet with Hand That Mourns up at the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. Neither Jackie or Flutters were busy, so they're joining me in my trek through the Everfree. The path, by now, is familiar, and unlike the last few times I had to come here, there wasn’t a pressing royal quest or national emergency ongoing. Our journey has been quiet, given how early in the morning it is. We all woke up before the dawn, meeting Celestia's sun as we entered the forest. None of the rest of our Ponyville friends have deigned to meet us, so we've been walking in a fairly loose triangle formation.

That's mostly due to Fluttershy's unease in this forest. Even though she lives so near it, she rarely ever trudges this deep into it unless she has to, such instances include meeting her bear friend, Harry, who's cave sits in the side of the mountain deep within the Everfree Forest, or the occasional wild manticore needing first aid; they won't come near her cottage anymore after I blasted three of their fellows into giblets. Jackie's orchard sits near the edge of the Forest as well, but she rarely ever delves into it. Sweet Apple Acres' borders are well defended from attack by sturdy fence lines and some Apple Family devised traps set along the fences.

I have no real love for this forest myself; I've heard the stories and seen some of the fierce storms that originate from it. If that's what comes out of the Forest, I'd hate to imagine what lives in it. Forget cyclones of manticore, a sea serpent or two, and cockatrices; those are likely the mildest of the wild things that dwell within. The things that live in the deep recesses of the Forest are likely things that can kill you on sight, like a basilisk. Good Goddess, I hope there isn't one of those in here…

“Isn't it such a lovely morning?” Fluttershy asks.

“If mornings were lovely,” I reply, “they'd come with an instant shot of caffeine and a warm shower first thing after waking.”

“They can include those things, ya know,” Applejack deadpans, “ya just get 'er up outta bed!”

“Yeah,” I murmur, “I was thinking those things come without leaving the confines of my sheets.”

Applejack opens her mouth to say something; what I hear isn't her Tennessee drawl but a distinctive voice both exotic and wise.

“It is only in rest of the wicked, that most would find their sleep forsaken. Even in this early chill, how could one think the morning ill?”

We all look around for the source of the voice, and after a few moments of scanning, Fluttershy finds the speaker. My eyes go wide when what should appear from the brush all around but a zebra mare, cloaked and stepping lively in the depths of the Everfree foliage. My mind is blown by the golden ringlets adorning her neck and forelegs; the earring in her right ear makes me even more astounded. How could I not know a zebra lived near Ponyville? Better still, how in the Hell did she get all that jewelry on her? Does she ever take it off? My curiosity is mirrored in the mare, who stares at me in confusion. Her eyes are examining me from under her hood; the goldenrod orbs hold me in place until Fluttershy speaks.

“Oh, Zecora,” she exclaims, “how wonderful to see you here! Can we help you with something?”

“No thank you, Miss Fluttershy,” the zebra answers, “I only came to watch some passersby. Strange, the company you keep, trundling into the forest deep. Praytell, what manner of creature is this, who on two legs stands above the morning mists?”

“Oh,” Fluttershy squeaks, “this is Steven. He's a hooman.”

“A human?” The Zebra asks, cautiously, “is it true?”

“It's just what it says on the tin, ma'am,” I reply, “two feet, two hands, chock full of attitude, and most of it bad.”

I give this Zecora a smirk which is met with a frown. I'm beginning to wonder if I did or said something wrong. Then she speaks in a language that puts me in mind of the African languages, Swahili or maybe even Zulu, I can't truly say. She then walks up to me, prodding me with a hoof.

“[It is true,]” she says, using a language I've only ever heard in dreams or during my first visitation with Hand That Mourns, “[The Teacher's Tune, one has returned, then others, too. Soon, Pivot shall rise from its ashen grave, restored by the Word that comes from The Knave.]”

“…the Word that comes from The Knave?” I ask, “What in the blue blazes does that mean?”

Zecora gasps, as do my mares. I don't think she expected me to understand.

“You heard,” the Zebra mumbles, “The Word. My people speak of ones like you, whose Ways are strong, silent, and none too few. If you returned to this place, then Destiny has wrought to end The Empire's Disgrace!”

I turn to Fluttershy, looking for answers. She shrugs her withers, which worries me some.

“Does she always speak in rhyme?” I ask.

“For as long as we've known her,” My Butterfly replies, “I- don't know what that other thing she said was. I've heard her speak her native language before, but that was nothing I've ever heard her speak before.”

“It is the Teacher's Tongue,” Zecora answers, “given to the Zebra when our tribe was young.”

“The cryptic speak is gettin’ ta mah,” Applejack moans.

“You and me, both,” I add, “so, you’re that Zecora I've been hearing about?”

The Zebra nods, “Indeed I am, for the Everfree is no home to a lamb.”

“And you're rhyming? Is that the way your tribe speaks or is it a badge of your office?”

Zecora nods, but doesn't speak. I get the feeling she doesn’t do trade in straight talk.

“So, uh, what can we do you for, Miss Zecora?” I ask, “considering the real estate, I can hardly imagine you not getting enough exercise.”

“Neigh,” Zecora confirms, “it was not exercise I seek. Yet, with your companions I must speak.”

“With us?” Jackie wonders, “what in tarnation do ya need with us?”

“It is a matter most delicate,” the Zebra responds, “one with which I must use all etiquette.”

I look to the Zebra then to my mares. This is getting weird, even for me. I do have to admit, Zecora's presence is quite expected, but I have no idea why. And the way she spoke before, it resonated with me. Could this be a part of what Hand was talking about before, my “genetic memories?” Whatever the case, I think it wise to let the Zebra do what she must do.

“It's okay, girls,” I say as Jackie and Flutters give me worried looks, “Whatever Zecora has to say is important. I don't know how I know that, but I know.”

“Are you sure, Steve?” Jackie asks me, “I trust Zecora and all, but this is mighty cryptic, even fer her.”

“It's your choice,” I reply, “but I honestly don't think Zecora would go to this much trouble for something trivial or nonsensical.”

Fluttershy looks to her herd mate, then to me, and gives Zecora a small nod with a wan smile. Jackie's face is stoic, but she nods as well. The three mares fall back into a small column behind me, well out of earshot. Even though my curiosity is piqued, I decide it isn't worth getting into a hack with my mares to listen. It doesn't take long before the Zebra and my mares rejoin me; whatever was said must have succinct.

“Have fun?” I ask jovially.

Jackie tries to give me a smile, but knowing the farm pony the way I do, it's a blatant attempt to lie. Point of fact, the poor mare is sweating bullets in order to produce such a facade of calm. Fluttershy doesn't try to hide it; she's concerned like all get out. Her wings are pressed deeply into her flanks and her eyes wear the look of someone marching off to the firing squad. A quick glance at Zecora tells me even more; she's wary and is twitching at every sound that emerges from the underbrush. She knows something…

The atmosphere was tense enough without this new foreboding lingering in the air. I decide to ask Zecora how she knows of The Terran Empire; this brings a swift change in the Zebra's demeanor. She immediately goes into explanation of how The Zebra met The Terran Empire. According to Zecora, her tribe and many like it, roamed the deserts of Zebrica, seeking out stones and metals buried in the sands. They had powerful alchemical abilities but were shunned by the Ibex and other sapients, because their powers seemed like witchcraft to them. She explains further that magic had not been introduced properly to Zebrica yet, and many of the species there were frightened of it. One day, as The Zebra Tribes wandered, a “great metal bird” landed amongst their midst; from within the vessel came “beings of two legs and deep magic.”

She further expounds that the two groups had a very deep exchange; after the “deep magic walkers” found a way to communicate with them, they began to converse long into a myriad of subjects. The Zebra knowledge of Alchemy and Herbal Medicine far surpassed what the Humans knew; the Humans, on the other hand, spoke in a language that expressed magic and energy in ways the Zebra could not. They continued discussing these things for many long days and nights; the humans offering shade and water to the exhausted tribes. The exchange resulted in the Zebras learning the art of debate and thorough education in magic; The Terran Empire got schooled in all things herbal and alchemical.

Later on, the Zebras would return to the civilized portions of Zebrica. Although still feared and shunned by the Ibex and their ilk, the Zebras new mastery of magic and reasoned debate confounded all who tried to thwart them in obtaining, and keeping, a seat in the halls of power. They held sway in matters that not even the highly learned Ibex knew of. The Ibex feared the Zebra moreso now, but did not have the power or wherewithal to banish such an influential race. So instead, they conspired with the other "civilized species" to murder to the last. That did not go as expected, as there were many on the outs of the conspirators that got wind of their skullduggery.

Within days of the conspiracists’ plan to "cleanse" the Zebra from their cities, Terran Imperial forces arrived, permanently ending any plot to uproot the Zebra from the civilized world. From then until the Empire fell, the Zebra and the Terran Empire had a close alliance. Their alchemical and metallurgy skills fueled the Imperial economy, while Terran engineers and artisans kept the Zebras awash in art and fantastical buildings. No other species was willing to breach the peace until well after the Empire fell, Zecora explained, and even so, the Zebras had become such an institution in civilized Zebrica that none could extricate them.

Every now and then, though, The Zebra would send some of their own, shamans and medicine mares, out into the wilds of the World. The purpose of sending out these "wanderers," as Zecora called them, was to broaden the horizons of the Zebra tribe. As she explained it, Zecora was one of those on a walkabout. She is one of the chief shamans of her tribe; she elected to venture into Equestria, in the wild places of that land, for the opportunity to understand nature and further contact with the ponies of Equestria. As she explained it, her travels have been met with outstanding success, even if the ponies of Ponyville were less than welcoming of her for the first few years she was there.

During the time Zecora expounded about her people and their connection to The Terran Empire, we drew ever closer to the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. By the time Zecora had finished explaining the Zebras’ connection to The Empire, I had finally noticed that we had cleared the forest and were now in the glade where the ruined Castle stood. The way Zecora looked at the building, I could sense she was filled with awe and the smallest sense of fear. Apparently, even for a mare who resided in the depths of these woods, she didn't like being here any more than Fluttershy or her friends. As I proceeded toward the dilapidated structure, I sensed Zecora hesitate for the briefest of moments before following my mares and I.

"Why would one like you," The Zebra inquired, "enter a place that is almost a tomb?"

I considered for a moment or two before answering, "I have important business within. There's an old Imperial command center here; I was asked by its caretaker to come on by. Apparently, there is much we need to discuss."

Zecora then asked, "And does this caretaker have a name that you can give me, Young Knave?"

I wondered a little why Zecora referred to me as a "knave," but it was among several other thoughts I would need to investigate later, "She's called Hand That Mourns. From what I've learned, she was the last Imperial resident; all the other humans were either driven offworld or driven into hiding. She was an Imperial Archivist, and as such, she knows more about the Empire than anyone living."

Zecora nodded her head; I could tell because we had just passed over the threshold of the Castle and the sunlight from outside streamed into the gloom of the ruins main portal. We walked in silence for a while, keeping in a tightened formation from earlier: Zecora had reported earlier that a cockatrice was seen roaming around The Castle. She said it was unlikely that it would enter into the ruin itself; animals never ventured into the place because of the "hauntings" the castle had.

"That's likely Hand," I mentioned, "she's probably been walking the halls in whatever guise suits her to scare away such threats as an overly curious manticore and the occasional basilisk."

"I wonder if that explains the Pony of Shadows mah Granny said roams 'round here," Applejack commented, "Mind ya, Ah ain't ever seen this "Hand Tha' Mourns," so I cain't rightly say."

"I wouldn't worry, AJ," I called back to her, as we finally entered the antechamber with the hidden passage to the command center in it, "You're gonna meet her soon enough."

Like the last time I had been down here with ponies, it was a small struggle to come down the human sized stairway. Zecora and Applejack took tentative steps on the wide, onyx steps. Fluttershy stayed near me, hovering on her wings; she at least was moving at a decent pace. This time around, I had two feet to manage the stairs. The leg Hand arranged to repair was a huge blessing navigating the stairway. Our descent into the command center took roughly fifteen minutes, but with two newcomers on the way, it felt longer.

Upon entering the command center, I noticed that the whole place was lit up brightly; the consoles I saw the last time were now alight in broad arcs across the chamber. The cavernous walls were now visible, adding a stark contrast of sheer granite to the marble flooring underfoot. Along the way, various signs were underlit to show directions and label locations. Unlike Equestrian signage, Terran Imperial facade doesn't always include a pictogram for the clueless. As I looked about, I saw that some of the navigational emplacements were glowing brighter than the others. I had it in my head that Hand wanted me to follow these embedded markers.

So, I did follow them, marching straight to the central dais with its throne perched amongst the workstations. Sitting on the throne, although with a look a great reluctance, was Hand That Mourns. As I approached with my small entourage, she turned to me and asked the following: "Archmage, what do you call a group of humans?"

"Depends," I replied, "in certain instances, they might be called a 'troop.' In others, they might be referred to as a 'mob.' A group of humans engaged in organized sports is called a 'team,' while a group of humans engaged in villainy may be referred to as a 'gang.' Why do you ask, Hand?"

My pneuma ex machina answered, "It was a necessary question. I know that your education into matters concerning your predecessors is- woefully inadequate. No doubt, if you had been taught as a member of the Terran Empire citizenry, you would know that a group of humans, in any size or capacity, is called, 'a riot.'"

"That is oddly appropriate," I retorted, "a 'riot of humans.'

"Indeed," Hand remarked, "when humans are grouped en masse, there is no telling what madness might accrue."

"Kinda like what happ'n'd the other day in Ponyville," Applejack said, "Them hoomans was makin' a right mess o' things."

"That they were," Hand confirms, "Oh, hello! I did not see you there, miss miniature, magical equine."

"Oh, yeah, I haven't introduced you two yet," I add, "Hand That Mourns, this is Applejack. AJ, this is Hand That Mourns."

"Howdy!" My Apple Blossom greets, "How ya'll doin'?"

"I am fine, Miss Jaqueline," Hand answers, "I have heard much about you from the Young Knave. So, you are the fair mare that has taken The Archmage's heart as of late?"

"Oh, yes," Fluttershy affirms, "she's part of our herd now."

"A- herd?" Hand stutters, "As in a- polygamous marriage?"

"I guess so," Fluttershy replies, "really, we're his two fiancees. We aren't really married, yet."

"Wait, what?" I puzzle.

"Ah, yes," Hand muses, "that old tradition. I did not think that Equestrians of this day would use it. Surprising that it is still in fashion."

"Could somepony clue me in, please?" I ask.

"Would you prefer your lovers explain this to you, or should I?" Hand inquires.

"It doesn't matter as long I as I get my question answered," I retort.

"Well, Steve, it's like this," AJ says, "when a couple become- well, betrothed, to each other, they kinda go through this courtin' thing. You an' Fluttershy h've dun it, you an' Ah have dun it, but it ain't really official 'til a foal or two is produced. Then, it's a real marriage, and you ken call us yer wives."

"Oh," I stammer, looking between Flutters and AJ, "well- That’s actually rather disappointing. I- I guess I need to try harder to figure out a way to get you two knocked up!"

Both my mares blush, with Fluttershy beaming the most between the two. It's then that I remember the last member of our party. If my mum were to see me now, she'd slap me upside the head, she would.

"Oh, yes, Hand, there is one more I would like you to meet. Zecora," I gesture to the Zebra Shaman standing behind me, "this is Hand That Mourns, my ghost in the machine. Hand, this is Zecora, who is obviously a Zebra."

"[It is well that I meet a mighty Shaman of the Tribes,]" Hand says, "[even more so an honor than I can convey, given your watch over this facility.]"

"[It is indeed an honor,]" Zecora says, bowing, "[to meet of Our Teachers, even at this hour.]"

"[Yea, verily,]" Hand replies, "[have you been waiting long for an Errant Wanderer to return, Shaman?]"

Zecora nods, "[Aye, verily, long have I. As had my mother, and her mother, and her mother before her. We have strained our ears and screwed up our eyes for a chance to witness this surprise. Word has been sent to my people of a Wanderer returned; it is Our Hope that our prayers yielded what We long have yearned.]"

"[Indeed,]" Hand says, "and 'tis the day when all Our Hopes have been fulfilled." Hand turns to me now and says, "Archmage, have you wondered long about the visions that you have seen? Have any questions arisen given what you currently know?"

"Plenty," I answer, "but the one that rises above all others is, if the Empire was so powerful and technologically advanced, compared to what I know, how did it fall into such... disrepair?"

"An excellent question," Hand answers, "if you remember, I explained that Our Empire fell due in part to our technology failing because of Equestrian magical prowess. Of course, the reason why our weapons were brought to bear was because of the machinations of House Proletariat, which I do believe I had explained also."

"You did," I reply, "I remember."

"Excellent," Hand beams, "then I should probably explain more about the role House Proletariat played in the downfall of the Terran Empire. If I may, Archmage, have you been witness to the first contact made between the early Equestrians and the Empire?"

"I think so-" I begin, "isn't that when Ambrose found Queen Astraeus and King Eos in that old Imperial research center? Right at the heart of Bedlam Woods?"

"Precisely," Hand remarks, "In point of fact, this facility was built in the exact location of that fateful meeting. Now, after it was discovered there was now a tenth Sapient Species on this planet, there arose much debate between the Houses of Majesty, the ruling house of the Empire, and Proletariat. Proletariat wanted these being classified as 'sentient, not fully sapient.' I believe they harbored much in the line of xenophobic leanings and thus did not find any joy in yet another species as intelligent as any human."

"Did they ever show such leanings before?" I ask.

"Yea, verily, they did," Hand answers, "starting with the Gryphon tribes, House Proletariat began making much noise concerning what races they believed should be included in our diplomatic rounds. They were very vocal in their opposition for any 'non-human entities' to gain any measure of diplomatic status. It was assumed that the Hippocampi were the metaphorical straw that broke the camel's back, but twas not so. Given everything I have archived into the Ecumene, it appears the Equestrians were the last last straw that they would withstand."

"So, they assassinated Ambrose-" Hand give a nod, "murdered the regents of an early Equestria, instigated a war, all because they were deeply xenophobic?"

"Aye," Hand answers, "given what I have seen of your planet's history, I did not expect you to seem so skeptical."

"I'm not skeptical, Hand, I'm just dumbfounded," I reply, "we humans really are that dumb, are we?"

Hand That Mourn nods again, saying, "I believe now is the time that you become familiar with your ancestors’ history, all that was likely expunged after Our Exile to Last Chance. Come, take a seat; I shall elucidate you forthwith."

A comfy little loveseat emerges for my mares and I to sit on while a pouf materializes for Zecora. The Zebra Shaman rests on the pouf provided, while Fluttershy, Applejack, and myself snuggle up on the loveseat. As soon as we're seated and comfy, Hand That Mourns starts to loom over us. It takes me a moment to think of why such a move seems so familiar, and I'm brought back to the first moments that Aladdin had after finding Genie. All Hand has to do now is break into an elaborate song-and-dance routine and the image would be complete. She doesn't do that, however.

"This is the story, nay, the history, of how the Terran Empire came to be. It is the tradition of the Empire that the Matron of each Household tell this story to their Offspring, but since your family has been well separated from Imperial Traditions, Archmage, this duty falls upon myself to continue with this tradition. This is the way I heard it told, from the very mouth of my mother, who heard it from her mother, who heard it from her mother, for generations on end almost from the time of the Founding of The Empire…

Hand makes a motion that very closely resembles someone clearing their throat, and for a being that is now thoroughly a spirit, she manages to imitate the action with all the gusto of one living. When she speaks again, it is in a loftier, deeper tone than any I have ever heard her speak in before.

"Once, in the days before history was to be written, in the days of yore and antiquity, there were ninety and nine tribes. For a time, these tribes lived peacefully, with little quarrel amongst themselves or each other. The land they inhabited was fertile with grains, vegetables, fruits, and nuts of every kind; every animal in creation either grazed or hunted on these, Our Lands. So it was, for numerous centuries... The Tribes were prosperous, but even so, seeds of strife began to emerge as each tribe began to run out of room for their peoples.

"The Tribe of Majesty, so called for their leadership and magnificent architecture, were soon encroaching on territory held by the Tribe of Mason, a clan of builders and engineers. The Tribe of Praetorian, with it's vast numbers in soldiers, was raiding villages along their border with the Tribes of Flora and Fauna, who were not warriors but farmers, ranchers, shepherds and rangers. The Tribe of Proletariat, that- viper's nest, was stealing what it could from the coffers of those under their protections, namely the Tribes of Caduceus (who worked their miracles in healing) and the Tribe of Intelligentsia (whose minds worked wonders with logic and art.) There were other tribes, all scrambling for the same resources, the same lands. It eventually led to turmoil, which then bred war...

"The various tribes began to compete for dominance, for primacy, over what resources were left available. The competition turned to violence, which led to skirmishes and battles between the tribes. For too long, every tribe was engaged in combat with it's ninety and eight other kinsmen. The primal screams of combat rang out, as blood was shed needlessly amongst fellows. Tribes that once were friendly were now bitter adversaries. There was death, devastation, and ruin wherever a battle took place. Yet, there was no clear victor in this conflict; no tribe had the power or wherewithal to completely wipe another. As the battles raged, the claret spilled for nigh unto a century."

"Wait a gosh darned min'te," Applejack cried, "ya mean ta tell mah that yer people fought each other, fer a century?!"

Hand That Mourns nods, "Aye, we nearly did. Our people," Hand gestures to me, "have short memories but hold long grudges."

"Land sakes!" AJ exclaims.

"Indeed," Hand adds, "if I may continue?"

AJ nods, although I can see worry crawling on her face. (You can just see the crinkling in her cute freckles.) Fluttershy has been staring wide eyed at Hand, taking all this in whilst she shivers against me. Her forelegs are wrapped around my middle, her quaking felt through my lower abdomen.

"The War would have gone on far longer, had not a certain mysterious tribe emerged in the midst of the conflict. As my mother explained, there was a time when the Tribe of Majesty, seeing the futility in combatting so many enemies at once, reached out with an olive branch of alliance with the Praetorian Tribe. The Matron of the Majestic Tribe reasoned that neither their people, not the warriors of Praetorian, could expect victory against so many foes. Soon, as word spread of their alliance, other tribes followed suit. Most were against the combined strength of Majesty and Praetorian; others, weakened by perpetual warfare, sided with the fledgling Alliance. In total, twelve tribes banded together in mutual trust and defense. Even so, such a force was still not enough to turn the tide of war into a tide of peace.

"As the war reached its zenith, The Alliance met on a hill, which is not very far from here if the legends are true, to engage in battle with the Tribe of Hephaestus. The tinkerers of that tribe had made a living portable weapons platform, making each of their soldiers a living weapon. (As it turns out, those armoured carapaces were the basis for the armor that was worn by House Praetorian when it was formed.) The Alliance was worried that their nemesis' weapons would be too much to counter. As it happens, while the Alliance parlayed with the Tribe Hephaestus, a lone stranger entered into the Alliance camp. The intruder was an elder gentleman, wizened in years but no less hale and hearty.

"As the Alliance troopers approached, he raised his hands, saying, 'Away with your weapons. I bring you no harm.’ The troopers were wary of one such as this, but they did as requested. The Elder stated, 'I thank ye. For long moons have I trekked to yonder hill, wandering hither and yon, seeking the Tribes in Alliance. I am the Earl of Lin (Later, he would be known as M'Ear'Lin.) from the Tribe of Endymion. I have come unto this day with glad tidings as well as a the hope that your tribes and mine might arrange a mutually beneficial treaty.' The captain of the Alliance camp troopers asked, 'What claim do you have, Sir Earl of Lin, to sue for audience with The Council of Twelve? Your Tribe has been seen naught in the decades since the war began!'

"'Yea, verily,' The Earl replied, 'we of the Endymion Tribe have been at contest with our brethren in this war. Yea, we have engaged with a sister tribe of our own, the Tribe of Caesar, in a perilous duel of will over cunning. They besiege us, robbing us of our sustenance and clean water, hoping that we shall eventually cower to them. We have no more brooked their demands than your Alliance hath, but our tribe grows weary. We cannot withstand the siege 'erelong. 'Tis the reason I have come this day, breaking through enemy lines, stealing away in the dead of night, wandering these many cycles in search of thee. We, the Tribe of Endymion, sue for assistance against these, our nemesis'.

"'And what, praytell, dear Earl, doth thou hast to give unto us? Do ye not see we are also engaged against our foes? What strength could ye bring unto us that we hast not already been gathered?' asked the brave Captain.

"'We of the Tribe of Endymion are gifted in The Craft, what ye would think of as The Magicks. We art versed well with the power in Nature and its bounteous energy. We hath learned to harness this energy to shape the world as we deem fit, for both defense and offense against any foe. Mighty as your warriors may be, none could contend with a master of Magick, such as we. I and mine would prefer to utilize our talents insomuch a fashion against your foes, making you our allies as well, instead of bringing to bear our wrath against thee as enemies.'

"The brave Captain thought on this. It would be a foolish thing to allow this 'Earl Of Lin' an audience with The Council; yet, it would be equally as foolish to dismiss his claims. Many a tale had he heard of this Tribe Hephaestus. They were a devious clan, full of mischief; their warriors were adept at hand-to-hand and melee combat. Their skill in such was to rival Praetorian Tribe. If Tribe Endymion were such Practitioners, then close range combatants would menace them most vexingly. The Captain could see no way that The Earl was lying; his robes, once resplendent in another age, were tattered, as if he spent many a lunar cycle in rough country. Though the Alliance was strong, they did not possess the prowess of even a single Practitioner, so with much reluctance, he allowed the Earl to seek an audience with The Alliance Council.

"Once met, the Earl recounted his tale much the same as he did before. The Council members listened, some in disbelief, others in awe. It was The Matron of Tribe Majesty that spoke for the Council when she asked, 'What evidence dost thou hath, that ye are a Practitioner? Neither mine fellow Tribesmen nor thineself hast seen of your Magicks before. Why, praytell, shall we take heed of thee?'

"The Earl then took off his robes, baring himself but in naught but a loincloth. Inscribed in his skin were the markings of Deepest Magick, such as few had seen since the dawning of the age. The Earl then began to make a curious work, summoning both Ice and Fire to his hands. The sigils burned into his flesh began to glow; soon, a terrible Wind raged within the Council Tent, bringing with it Thunder and Lightnings. The tumult created by the Earl came to a stunning conclusion, with all five of The Elements crashing down into a burst of heat and light! Thus, the murmurs of dissent and cynicism ended, with the Majestic Matron the most enthused of the Council.

"The Earl of Lin girded himself in in his robes once more while The Council conferred. There were many who thought a merger of the Alliance with Tribe Endymion would bring great power to their cause, possibly ending this conflict once and for all. The Tribes of Majesty, Proletariat, Flora, Fauna, and Genial were thus convinced. Less convinced were the Tribes of Praetorian, Intelligentsia, Mason, Caduceus, and Anthro. They were still skeptical of the Elders talents. The Majestic Matron then spoke, "Ye Earl of Lin, our Council hast witnessed thine powers. There are many here who wouldst gladly take up thine allay and bring thee supp. Yet, there art others who are less convinced of your abilities. We shalt need some time to debate this, to consolidate our options before we move ahead to include thine Tribe into our Alliance.'

"Though crestfallen, The Earl of Lin acknowledged that his Craft was a rare sight that many would discount on first sight. With an understanding eye, he then asked, "Praythee, wouldst thou grant an old man a repast? 'Tis been a quarter cycle since last hath I eaten. My throat also has need of quenching. Hither wherest is thine dining room?' The Matron ordered her staff to allow the Earl of Lin a space in the camp mess hall. There, he was fed on succulent steak, a rich and creamy broth, a mountain of mashed potatoes, and river of mead to slake his thirst. Whilst the Council convened to discuss the Tribe of Endymion's fate, the diplomatic team hastened to return, the Hephaestus Tribe on their heels. A call to arms was sounded in the camp, every soldier available to muster for battle.

"The Earl of Lin heard the call, even as he relaxed, belly full. Sensing an opportunity to prove his claims and endure his Tribe to The Alliance, he stood from his seat and went forth to engage the Alliance enemies. They rode hard over the Alliance battlements, bearing weapons that seared with coherent light. The Alliance troopers could not withstand the assault, falling back away from their assailants. When the Earl saw the Hephaestus troops marching onward with an arrogant gleam, he knew they would not stop until the whole of The Alliance was dead. He raised his arm, whispering and murmuring; the sky above began to darken. Swiftly came the rush of Wind and in its embrace was the roll of Thunder, the strikes of Lightning.

"As the enemy approached, the Earl closed his eyes and said, in naught but a faint whisper, 'Thundagaja!' From the firmament, with darkest storm clouds swirling in a rage, a single bolt of Lightning struck the ground. The Hephaestus troops froze where they stood, their armored carapaces shorting out as the Lightning fry their circuits and cooked the men therein. As the clouds cleared and smoke faded, only The Earl was left standing: the troops of Hephaestus had fallen down to the last man. When the Alliance troops saw of this, they were astounded. A single man, a wizened man, against an army of bloodthirsty cutthroats... It was unheard of! When word reached the Council, they too were amazed. 'A lone Magician,' breathed The Matron, 'against a powerful army? These Endymion Folk are not to be trifled with!'

"'If thinkest thou mighty,' The Earl commented, 'prithee see mine Archmage, who leads our Tribe. Yea, verily, if mine magicks confound and amaze thee, then verily wouldst mine Archmage impress on thee further. Mine feeble magicks are but naught compared to her. She wouldst dazzle thee beyond measure!'

"Within the hour, the order was given to break camp and march to the homeland of Tribe Endymion. With the Hephaestus Tribe routed, The Alliance need not spend more time pestered by them. They marched onto the Endymion pridelands and routed the forces of the Caesar tribe. Within months of these two victories, The Alliance was trouncing all opposition, thanks in no small part to the power and skill of the mages of the Endymion. Those forces that wished to join The Alliance were allowed to do so. Those that fight rather than be subsumed by Alliance power were trampled over, there survivors assimilated (or perished) into The Alliance. By years end, War of the Ninety Nine Tribes, later to be called The War For Unification, ended. With the Alliance now unnecessary, it was worried that the loose knit tribes would fracture once more, and a new war would begin. Thanks to the foresight of Alliance Council, that would not happen. From the thirteen original Tribes came the Terran Empire, fueled and powered by the Imperial Houses.

"House Majesty, the First Pillar of the Empire, would lead the nascent nation.

"House Praetorian, the Second Pillar of the Empire, would defend it's borders without and within.

"House Intelligentsia, the Third Pillar, would bring the intellectual might of its members to imagine, design, and create the Imperial Capital of Pivot; they would also provide the grand designs for artifice that would unite the Empire from border to border.

"And last but not least, House Endymion, the Fourth Pillar of the Empire, whose magic would bind the Empire in unity and provide a Fulcrum in which to balance all the peoples of The Empire, so no one House or Individual would be able to disrupt the Harmony of the Empire itself.

"Oo, neato-mosquito!" Shouted a high pitched voice.

I looked to my left, just beyond Fluttershy, and who should I see there but Pinkie Pie, soda bottle in one hoof, bucket of popcorn in the other. Applejack is as flabbergasted as I am. I had my senses magically expanded, so I was sure nopony was following us. Still, this is Pinkie Pie we're talking about. She... confounds the Laws of Physics on a regular basis.

"Pinkie," I admonish, "you brought popcorn and didn't bother to share?"

"Oops, sorry!" Pinkie says, an embarrassed flush forming on her cheeks. She hands me the half full popcorn bucket; I grab a handful of the delicious snack, then offer some to my mares. Fluttershy takes a small scoop with a wing after Applejack fills the brim of her hat with the stuff. I start munching on popcorn before realizing that Hand's confused over our mysterious newcomer.

"Oh, Hand," I say after swallowing mouthful of kernels, "this is Pinkie Pie. Pinkie Pie, this is Hand That Mourns."

"Wowie-bazooie!" Pinkie cries, then speaking in a whisper, "Are you ghost?!"

"I am not, Ms. Pie," Hand answers, "I am the engramatic remains of an ancient Terran Empire citizen who remained behind after the Empire's fall to archive its history. My primary purpose now is to aid the Archmage into accepting his role in the reformed Terran Empire."

"That sounds really important," Pinkie whispers to me, then to Hand, "do you like cake?"

"Uh- what?" Hand stumbles.

"You know, cake. Do you like it?" Pinkie inquires.

"I am- unsure how to reply to this inquiry," Hand informs the Pinky Party Paradox, "mayhaps you can be more specific?"

"Oh, you know, before you were turned into this light-ghost thingy, did you like cake? What kind? Was there frosting? Oo, how many layers where there? Were there sprinkles?"

"Pinkie Pie," Applejack wants, "Ah think Ms. Hand has enough on 'er plate without ya harrassin' her about cakes and such."

"Awww," Pinkie moans.

"It is alright, Faire Jaqueline," Hand explains, "as for your information, Ms. Pie, when I lived, I was very fond of Angel Food Cake. I did not find frosting or sprinkles appealing, I am afraid. I am- I was, but a simple girl, I suppose."

"Oh, okay," Pinkie says, and I can see her once limp mane spring back up to normal, "well, maybe there's a way I can get you a cake. When's your birthday?"

"The day of my birth was August, 10." Hand informs Pinkie Pie.

The Pink Party Paradox gasps, screaming, "THAT'S ONLY A COUPLE WEEKS AWAY! I NEED TO GET STARTED!!"

Before Pinkie Pie can get going, though, The Cloister Bell began to chime. (That's what I now call that klaxon call that rings within the command center when danger is afoot.) The last time it rang, Ponyville was under attack. I hope to God it isn't as serious as that! I can see Pinkie Pie is absolutely losing it; the Bell is so loud, it's caused her mane and tail to frizz out like mad. Applejack is so surprised that her Stetson has flown three feet in the air. I can see her mane stand on end as the Bell continues to sound. Fluttershy has taken to hiding behind my back. I didn't think the sound of the Bell brings back good memories for her. (It doesn't do that for me, either.)

Only Zecora is unphased by the ringing of the Bell. For some reason, this act of stoicism that the Zebra Shaman is displaying is not instilling in me more panic, but is stealing me up with resolve. It is not lightly that the Cloister Bell sounds. In an instant, maps pop up on displays, showing a mass of red emerging from a central point within the Everfree. On another screen is a false color image from a satellite showing movement in groups. Within the infrared image, I see splotches of dark blue, which if RoboCop and Predator did anything right, indicates something down there doesn't produce it's own heat. Guns, mayhaps, and other tactical equipment. Someone has come loaded for bear...

"The best laid plans of Mice and Men..." Hand moans, "My timetable has been accelerated even further than I had planned."

"Wanna run that by me again, Hand?" I query.

Hand sighs, turning her azure visage into a deeper shade of the blue spectrum; she looks at me with an exasperated look. I have the feeling I'm about to undergo something rather unpleasant.

"Archmage," Hand begins, "when you first arrived, I had only certain protocols afforded to me regarding the handling of Reclaimers. I had, in my then limited scope, given you a process called Acclimation, getting you used to this planet's slower rotation cycle and preparing your mind for the inevitable retrieval of your predecessors memories. It is only as late that I have discovered a further process, one that will fully engender you to the Ecumene and allow you full access to all of The Empire's vast material and technology. It would also firmly plant you into your office, which given all that I have observed of your actions and tendencies, squares you solely in the role of Imperial Archmage. That role has not been filled since Ambrose wore The Vestments. His assassination prevented him from securing the restoration of House Endymion. Thus, it lays upon your shoulders to enact that which he could not. Are you ready, Steven, Son of Ambrose."

"I don't think I have much choice now, do I?" I quip.

Hand shakes her head, "Nay, you do not. The process should not be that difficult; it will be less- strenuous than your Acclimation. Are you ready?"

"I guess so," I reply, "I just hope I don't end being more disfigured than when I arrived here."

Hand smiles, a genuine, caring smile and says, "Nay, it will not further damage you. Not unlike the Acclimation, the Reclamation process will attempt to repair any injury you have, then accelerate the mental bolstering you have already undergone. And now, we begin!"

Like when my leg was restored, a shimmering white beam came down on me. I was expecting pain, so I grit my teeth. When the pain didn't come, I opened my eyes in confusion. I'm here to tell you, there was preparation for what sights greeted me. What I saw before me was something so wondrous, it defies accurate description. What I can explain is that what I witnessed was the entirety of the Terran Empire history, every nuance, every trial and every triumph. I saw the rise of the nascent nation, it's troubles with certain species, First Contact with The Zebra, the death of the last living Archmage, and Ambrose. Damn it all, he does look like me! Or I look like him, I can't be sure.

I saw him as he looked back when he was in Intellegntsia, then I watched as he transferred into Praetorian. Then, after a certain incident on Mount Olympus, I saw him don the Accoutrements of the Office of the Imperial Archmage, First in the Line of House Endymion, the very Key Arcane. Then I witnessed his murder, buy the backstabbing leeches of House Proletariat. After his demise, I was witness to the War of Aggression, wherein early Equestrians fought against The Terran Empire and the Empire lost. I was helpless to stop the Fall, as city after city and village after village was razed by the advancing Equine army. And finally, the Exodus. It was heart wrenching, it was.

All too soon, the beam faded away, but as it did, the Voices in My Head became clearer, more focused. Many were greeting me and welcoming me to my new role on my true home world. There were some who warned me of the coming dangers and what I would need to survive them. The loudest and clearest voice thus far was Archmage Ambrose, pieces of his old Praetorian armor gleaming underneath the Robes of Office.

"It has been long enough," he said, "that someone occupy the august office of Archmage. I wish I had more to give you now, some spell or wisdom that would serve you. Alas, my time as Archmage was rather limited. What I can tell you is that if you any bit like unto myself, you shall fulfill your role rather well. Mayhaps, you will be the greatest Archmage the Empire has ever seen!"

"Let's hope so," I quiver, "I don't think I can be any less prepared than I am now, but if this means my friends stay alive, then let's do this!"

"That is the spirit!" Ambrose beams, "Now that I have a successor, I thus hereby pass on my title of Archmage. Valeria shall have your vestments ready for you when your Reclamation is complete, which should be several moments from now. Any questions?"

"Nope, nope, I think I'm good." I state, "I'll guess I'll learn this job as I go. You know, on the job training? Ain't the first time I've had to do that..."

"It will not be as difficult as all that," Ambrose says, "in fact, I rather think you will be pleasantly surprised how enjoyable this post will be. Do be wary of it's limitations though-"

"Wait, limitations?" I ask. Unfortunately, it's a little late to have that comment further clarified. My Reclamation is finally over with; the beam of light fades to nothing. I'm standing back in the Command Center, with AJ, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Zecora looking at me in total awe. For a few moments, I'm struck baffled as to why I'm being stared at like some new attraction at the zoo. Then I try to take step forward; it's then I notice that I am no longer in jeans and t-shirt anymore.

Looking down at my newly re-clothed body, I see that more casual attire had been completely replaced. I'm shod in tactical boots, what look like BD cargo pants, a hooded tunic, vest, and a cloak. The colors of my new robes are deep hues of red, blue, and silver, pigments my rejuvenated mind tell me are the colors of the Empire. I feel a bit like a Jedi knight, save that I'm missing a lightsaber. A problem for another time.

"So much like him..." Hand quips, "If I knew no better, I would swear, Steven, son of Ambrose, that you were the spitting image of the last Archmage."

"Okay," I nervously reply, "let's table that thought for later. Right now, we have an incursion of opposition forces that needs handling. Can you tell me where they are now, Hand?"

"One moment," Hand answers, "they are within striking distance of this facility. I estimate that within the next half-hour, they should arrive."

"Great," I moan, "not much time to raise a decent defense."

"Stevie," Fluttershy asks, "are those- hoomans, like the ones that attacked Ponyville before?"

I shake my head, "I don't think so. These guys appear better armed, even armored, and are far better organized. From what these satellite images are telling me, they're organizing themselves into fire teams, units, and platoons. This is bound to get very, very ugly oh so very quickly."

"The defense of this facility is now under your auspices, Steven Ambrose, Archmage of the Terran Empire." Hand declaims, "if it were left to me, I would seek out additional personnel to help in defending this fortress as you fortify your position. I would also see about using Imperial Armament to slow the approach of the enemy army."

"Sounds like a plan," I remark, "Pinkie Pie, can you get back into Ponyville and gather up the village guard as well as your fellow Element Bearers? I would call on Dash but she isn't here and I'm certain you can get past the enemy without issue. Can you do this for me?"

"Can do!" Pinkie says, making a solid salute. She's gone in a cloud of pink, moving with speeds hitherto unknown by the sciences.

"Ah can see what weapons we have here in th' castle," AJ volunteers, "mebbe Ah can build us some battlements, to keep the enemy out an' such."

"Good thinking, Apple Blossom," I reply, "there may be some gear in stores with the Command Center as well. Fluttershy-"

"I don't want to do any fighting," My Butterfly quivers, "it's so scary..."

I smile, leaning down and stroking her head, "Don't worry. All I was going to ask you to do was set up triage in the Royal Hall. I'm hoping it doesn't happen, but we may have wounded in this fight. I want you to gather what supplies you can, Hand could help you if you're wanting for anything, and standby for any emergency that should happen. Can you do that for me?"

Fluttershy, is still visibly shaken, nods forcefully. Her eyes scream determination even if her body shakes in fear. She bounds off as Hand disappears from her holostage, likely to assist the golden pegasus with preparations. Myself, I was beginning meditations, just as Archmage Merlin had suggested. His advice about combat was to clear one's mind and build on the ambient mana in your surroundings. While I did that, he was busy informing me of several combat spells that would serve me well. Jesus, I'm taking to this role so quickly, so easily! Why in all of Tartarus didn't this happen to me sooner?!

Merlin isn't the only voice advising right now. I have no less than thirty four different views, all of them predecessors to my position, giving advice, solace, and the occassional tidbit of scuttelbutt from back in the day. If this were any other circumstance, I would likely think myself suffering a psychotic episode. I know better now; I am Steven Edwin Ambrose, Archmage of the Terran Empire. The voices ringing encouragement are those that came before, memories and experiences of those who held this office. They are as much as part of me as they are a part of each other. Their lives now bolster me as I take on the challenge of reclaiming magic for all of Humanity. (And keeping those I love and care for safe; if these guys are Proletariat troopers, I'm certain a dead pony or twenty won't fuss them much.)

It didn't take long for the rest of the Six String to arrive, but I hadn't expected others to follow in their wake. Pinkie had corralled Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Princess Twilight in record time, but the other newcomers were quite unexpected. I knew Lyra and Bon Bon quite well from town, but I hadn't expected them to arrive in what I could best assume was the Equestrian version of tactical gear. Neither did I expect Derpy and the Doctor to arrive, with the Doctor looking anxious and wary. There two others i didn't know from town, but I had seen them enough to know they were regular residents. The pale lime green Pegasus mare that had followed Pinkie in summoning the other Elements sported a bow-and-quiver cutie mark; her mane and tail were in a soft hue of hazelnut. I didn't hear single word from her, even as she moved to the crenelations to set up her crossbow. The other pony to follow Pinkie was an Earth pony mare with a wheat colored coat; her mane and tail a shade darker than her coat. Her cutie mark was a sextet of bows and she moved with a quiet grace that even Rarity could never perfectly emulate. When she did eventually speak, her voice was so soft, I almost thought Fluttershy had come back into the room.

"Excuse me, sir?" The little mare said, "My name is Quiet Whispers, my partner, Longbow, and I are here to assist you."

"I'm sorry, what?" Is my incredulous response.

"Begging your pardon, sir," Quiet Whispers says, "but you are Sir Steven of Ambrose?"

"Y-yes, that is me- I mean, that's me." I reply.

Nodding, Whispers then says, "We're under orders from Princess Luna herself. If you were to come to any grief, then we should attempt to quell such grief in the manner of our choosing. We were informed an hour ago of a major magical disturbance and knowing you were nearby, we were tasked with assisting you in any way possible."

"Huh," I muse but before any other thought can occur, Applejack returns and calls out to the brown mare.

"Hey ya, Whispers!" My Blossom called out, "How ya'll doin'? I didn't think ya'd be here. Just what in in the wide world of Equestria brough ya out here?"

"Hello, Applejack," Whispers said, "I'm here under orders. Princess Luna believes my Rolling Rock style may help defend your fiancee."

"I'm sorry, what?" Applejack asks, equally as confused as I am.

"I am here to help," Whispers repeats, this time with a kind smile, "Princess Luna gave my partner and I very clear orders..."

"No, no, Ah got that part," AJ interrupts, "but what was that about Rolling Rock-?"

"Oh, yes," Whispers says, with a hint of blush spreading in her cheeks, "I am a master of the martial art of Rolling Rock."

"A MASTER?!" Jackie says, "Wow. Ah know Big Mac took classes in that when he was colt. I think he made green belt before he had to stop. Work on the farm an' all."

"I know," Whispers replied, "a pity, really. Young Macintosh was an aspiring talent. To have taken a green belt at such a young age is quite the feat. Had he continued, he may have achieved black belt status or become one of the Masters."

"Wow, really?" Jackie asked, "He was that good?"

Whispers nodded, "Maybe when the time is right, he will return and take up the mantle again. It would be nice to spare against somepony of such talent. There are so few challengers that can keep up with me."

"Mebbe," Jackie replied, "but fer now, we got ourselves a little war party."

And on that note, "INCOMING!"

A foul boom rocked the castle as Rainbow Dash's warning ended. With dirt flying in from the impact, I had little doubt that the explosion came from a mortar round. It would be followed by a fusillade of it's brothers, raining Hell on the ruin of the palatial site. I had some time to count the seconds before impact; I was up a ten-Mississippi before the mortars hit again. I forgot just how long that would be in terms of distance, though. Even so, the shells kept dropping in staccato waves before the stillness returned to the Everfree.

As the dust settled and ponies rose from the floor, Rainbow spoke up again.

"Uh, guys, we got ourselves a problem. A big problem!"

Curious and a little unnerved, I and the rest of my Ponyville friends moved to the hole that Rainbow had reconnoitered before the bombing run. Outside, in the still billowing dust cloud of the explosive fusillade, are hundreds, maybe thousands of human troops. They were lined up just outside of the forest's treeline, clad in dark uniforms. I could see webbed, likely bulletproof, vests lined with numerous pockets, combat boots and armored helmets. The weapons they held were strange to me. Half of them didn't look anything like the military rifles I had seen in various tactical magazines I read when I was back home.

"I wonder why there just standing there?" I asked.

"Could be mah defenses," Jackie replied, "you'd be serprised just how effectual a ring o' thony vines is. That and the pikes Ah was able to cobble together? Jes enough to dissuade a pony from makin' a charge."

"While I applaud you Applejack for your forward thinking," Rarity retorts, "in case you haven't forgotten, our opponents are not ponies."

Pinkie Pie quickly agrees, "Good point."

"It's better than nothing," Twilight adds, "and in as little time as it was assembled, I'd say it's our best defense for now."

"Let's see what I can do to make it that much more defensible," I say, before attuning myself to the ambient mana of the forest itself and whispering, "Interdiction."

In the space of a heartbeat, a haze emerged along the wall of pikes and thorn vines Applejack installed. The troopers outside are looking at the haze with a mix of confusion and exasperation. If my spell worked, then anything that tries to get with through boundaries of the Castle would be subjected to a powerful sense of vertigo coupled with a high, keening wail. The combined assaults would be enough to overwhelm a body's senses, thus incapacitating them.

"What is that?" Twilight asked as the haze appeared.

"A little incapacitation ward," I replied, "I figured we wouldn't want this to get bloody."

I get a look from Twilight that is half disbelieving and half grateful. She keeps this look on her face until trotting hooves are heard coming down the stairs. I look and behold the Pegasus mare with the bow-and-quiver cutie mark. She looks at us, nods, then continues a little ways further down before getting Whispers' attention with a quiet cough.

"I count ten," was all the mare said.

"Ten?!" Whispers almost shouted, "that's almost as many as there are residing in Canterlot!"

"Have you got to be kidding me..." I groaned.

The Pegasus mare shakes her head, "I'm not."

"Ten thousand..." Twilight wondered, then turns to ask me, "do you think they're here to take you back home?"

"I don't think so," I answered, "look at the emblem on their vests."

Sure enough, emblazoned on the left breast pocket of the troopers vests was a circular patch. Within the patch was a symbol I've now come to dread: the quill and coin sigil of House Proletariat.

"Do you think they like cake?" Pinkie asked.

"Maybe they do," I said, "but I don't think they're in a mind for pastries."

"I'm not it'll matter," Bon Bon said, "with our combined talents, I'm sure we can stop these guys in their tracks."

"I'm sorry, Bon Bon," I retorted, "but just what sort of talents do you and Lyra bring to this shingdig?"

"Well, other than my fabulous sweets, which I brought plenty of in my saddlebags," Bon Bon answered, "I know Lyra is a Still Way Grandmaster."

I was nonplussed as to what that meant, but when I heard both Twilight and Rarity gasp, I knew it must be something important.

"You're a Still Way Grandmaster?!" Rarity whispered, pointing a dainty hoof towards Lyra.

The aquamarine mare nodded, saying, "I know my behavior since moving here here from Canterlot has always been a bit- eccentric, but it was a good way to maintain cover in case of any disturbances within Ponyville. I am a member of the Royal Guard, though I'm a Reservist.” Then Lyra points a forehoof at me, “Until Mister Handy showed up, I thought I was going to have a nice and quiet little tour of duty."

"So the whole obsession with Homo Sapien, that was just a charade?" I asked.

"Oh, no," Lyra tittered, "I've always been fascinated by humans, but I think I may have crossed the line into mania when you came in. I do apologize if I was a little- in your face before. I was just so surprised and awed by the fact that a real live human being was here in Ponyville. I sorta lost my objectivity- and my manners, when I first saw you. Can you forgive me?"

"I think I can," I say, "if you can show me what some of this kung-fu stuff it is you do."

"Certainly," Lyra said, smiling from ear to ear, "just stand back and let me work."

More would have been said, if not for the shouting outside and the sudden surge of humans rushing the rope bridge leading to the castle. As the troops marched in double time over the bridge, my mind leapt to the story of Thermopylae and Leonidas' 300 Spartans. For the allusion to work in my head, I had to assume that the part of the Persian army was played by the Proletariat soldiers marching over the bridge and we within the ruins of the Royal Pony Sisters Castle were the combined forces of Greece. (At a much smaller number, to be sure, but the allegory could still hold.)

The battle was starting, so I shouted, “Here they come!”

I had thought, nor could it have been predicted, just what the Proletariat soldiers were doing when they crossed my hex line. I was certain that many, a number that would make the operation useless, would fall in various states of delirium. Would did happen was platoon after platoon charging through the disorientation matrix, passing through it with little to no symptoms of discomfort, and charging the walls of the ruins. At this point, I hadn't noticed my "shadows" leaving the confines of the castle and going to greet the troopers surging forward to attack us. It came as a surprise to me, then, when the shaft of an arrow suddenly emerged in the thigh of one of the leading troops. Then another arrow buried itself in troopers foot. Missile after missile flew, striking soldiers where they ran, hobbling many.

Then came Lyra, standing at the portcullis of the Castle. Her eyes closed, her stance calm, she began to bob her slightly. Within a minute, soldiers who had not been wounded by projectiles were thrown into the air then tossed side to side by unicorn magic. I could hear the static and sizzle of their equipment as Lyra's magic assaulted their electronics. With a flick of her head, Lyra launched the troopers back over the ravine and into their fellow soldiers. It seemed comical to me, watching that scene, until I saw that some of them had suffered some burns from their malfunctioning equipment.

Lyra kept it up on the next wave of warriors, launching them back amongst their fellows. Those who were not caught in Lyra's strike zone were pelted with more missiles. Outside of either kill zone was a group of soldiers trying to finesse their way through a section of the castle were a major gap had formed due to weathering. Before they could even get within a dozen yards of the gap, a blur of amber spun into their midst. A whirling dervish of activity struck out at the humans, with yowls of pain and screams of surprise coming from the frackas. When the last soldier fell, it was Quiet Whispers who was the last being standing.

"Come on you guys," Rainbow shouted, "let's get out there and kick some flank!"

The others agreed, some like Rarity did so reluctantly, but we all rushed out onto the ever filling battlefield. Whispers was holding her own rather well against the opposition, bucking, kicking, and even punching anyone that came within range of her hooves. Anyone that didn't get a taste of equine fury was struck down by the missiles her partner rained down from the battlements. I have to admit, that mare's aim is impeccable. I suspect she could shoot Rainbow Dash out of the sky if it were so ordered.

As we spread out onto the battlefield, Applejack began to buck individual soldiers away. Between her strong hind legs and Whispers solid strikes, many of the human troops were knocked senseless. Whenever an opponent decided to turn tail and run, Jackie just whipped out her lasso and hogged tied the fella. It was actually kind of fun watching my Apple Blossom rustle up those strays like a prize pig. I am not ashamed to say that I'm her fiance, nope. I'm mighty proud of my apple farmer.

Rainbow flew circles around fireteams and tripped them up with her dizzying speed. With her aerial acrobatics, the human foot soldiers found themselves without a target they could paint properly to strike. The chromatic mare would then summon clouds from high above and stomp them dark, producing lightning that shocked and frightened the enemy. Sometimes she assist rarity by taking a finely weaved cord of silk the fashionista had woven and used it to secure troops trying to outflank us.

Rarity, in a fit of ingenuity and brilliance, began weaving nets and thick ribbons to trap larger groups of enemies. Her seamstress skills served her well as she her needles flew into the enemy's uniforms; the stitching done to their combat suits resulted in numerous hostiles getting stitched to each other's backs. Also, in a fit if high hilarity and sudden inspiration, she would lace troopers boots together, causing a domino drop of soldiers. Later, I'd have to tell her about how much respect she earned doing something like that; it was something I'd expect to see out of a Three Stooges episode.

Pinkie Pie was acting as a one mare artillery team, lobbing blast after blast from her Party Cannon (the Mark VI, I believe) into the oncoming enemy's path. Troopers were slipping and sliding in mounds of cake, cake batter, confetti, and party favors. While her cannon refreshed itself, the Pink Party Paradox Pony lobbed pastry shaped hand grenades of frosting, maple syrup, and honey. If you can imagine what would be like to get these very sticky concoctions thrown on you at high velocity, then you can also imagine the sort of trouble Pinkie's Party Bombs gave the enemy. To this day, I still don't know where she got them from.

Twilight, on the other hand, constituted a whole army unto herself! With just her magic alone, she was beating back entire companies of opposition from ever crossing the gorge. She taken flight as soon as we exited the castle and was now wreaking havoc on the enemy troops. Her horn was causing fires to crop up in the regimental camps and occasionally causing high tech gear to go completely haywire. She was deliberately avoiding striking any human with a spell, lest there be a repeat of what happened at The Riot of Ponyville. Still, she was doing the work of an entire division of soldiers just on her own. It was enough that many of the soldiers that hadn't crossed the ravine started to fall back into the Everfree. Whether to regroup or what, I was never certain.

Those that did make it were facing not just the ponies defending the keep but myself as well. I like to think that I didn't too bad. Mind you, Ambrose was giving me a crash course in the fine art of martial combat, but the old mage was well practiced for it, even if my body was less than fit. Still, I was kicking some ass and taking some names, that was sure. Whenever I got flanked, I whipped out a little magical assistance, paralyzing or causing fugue states in soldier dumb enough to try to pincer me With the combined spells of Atlas' Strength and Atlas' Grace, I was more nimble than anytime in my life, performing perfect bicycle kicks and capoeira style roundhouses with ease. I was beginning to feel a little Jet Lee with all the acrobatic stunts I was pulling off, although I was sure I'd be sore and worn out come tomorrow morning.

Now, I can't lay claim to any measure of clairvoyance, but I did feel a single surge of terror as I was fighting off the Proletariat soldiers. Although I was using every style of martial combat known to man, from Capoeira to Wushu, I couldn't but feel that the fisticuffs were all a show for something bigger and nastier. That foreboding sense kept getting stronger and soon I couldn't even block out it completely. I then heard a keening whistle blow; all the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. In a motion I could only call as fluid panic, I turned to the sound of the noise to confront the biggest turret I had ever seen. In my mind, I thought it was a minimum of 150 millimeters, if not larger. Manned by at least a dozen men, the turret was humming, a live wire of lightning and fire. I gave it no time to launch its payload.

"IMMOLATA!" I shouted, aiming a hand at the artillery piece. No sooner was the word said did a flash of flame, bluebell and hot, lash at the weapon system; I could see troopers pull hand away fr0m consoles and cranks as the weapon heated to steel melting temperatures. In the time it took for a body to blink, the whole apparatus was molten slag, the metal white hot as it turned to sludge. Many of the Proletariat who saw that happened turned on heel and ran back to the safety amongst the trees, although a few remained at the edge of the gorge; those few that remained glared death at my friends and I. With the enemy retreating, we all regrouped in front of the Castle's front door, holding ourselves in a Delta Phalanx formation in case anyone decided to chance an attack within the Castle.

"FALLEN ARCHMAGE," came an electronically enhanced shout, "FALLEN ARCHMAGE, DO YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yeah, I can hear you," I shouted back, feeling very much like Howard Wolowitz, "so can everyone from here straight to NEW JERSEY!"

Again, the amplified voice rang out, "I AM CAPTAIN NELSON NORRIS OF PROJECT: REPATRIATION. I AM HEREBY ORDERING YOU TO STAND DOWN AND COMPLY WITH PROLETARIAT COMMAND ORDERS TO TAKE YOU INTO CUSTODY."

"AND WHAT IF I DON'T WANT TO BE IN 'YOUR CUSTODY,' YOU FLANK SNIFFER?!" I shout back.

Silence for a moment, then, "YOU MUST COMPLY WITH PROLETARIAT COMMAND ORDERS OR WE WILL TAKE YOU BY FORCE. NONCOMPLIANCE IS NOT AN OPTION; RESISTANCE WILL BE MET WITH LETHAL FORCE. WE WILL GRANT YOU A REPRIEVE OF ONE HALF HOUR TO DECIDE, PROPERLY. IF YOU CONTINUE TO DISOBEY, YOUR LIFE MAY BE FORFEIT."

There was a whine, following by a ringing noise, then all fell into silence once more. None of my companions were gravely injured, though I did see Whispers sporting a black eye where one human trooper punched her and Rainbow Dash was missing a few feathers when one human grabbed at her wing. Rarity was just exhausted from pushing so much magic; Pinkie was in dire need of bath after the all the soot from her party cannon settled on her. My Apple Blossom faired pretty well even if she was mighty tired from bucking humans all afternoon. Still, if could have been a lot worse. I don't think these troops were given a green light to fire their weapons. If they come again just as hard, I doubt there will be any compunctions to let loose those dogs of war.

"Everypony, let's fall back into the castle," Twilight ordered, "we'll regroup and plan from in there."

Nopony argued that, and we all trooped back into the ruins confines. We didn't stop at the battlements like I thought we would, but instead flew back deeper into the castle. I didn't know where we were going until I saw a the remains of once lavish tapestries hanging from the walls. I then knew exactly where we were heading: the Royal Hall. With Twilight leading the way, we made our trek into the hall, where Flutters was ready and waiting; she had heard the brouhaha from in here and was trembling with anxiety over her friends and lovers conditions. Upon seeing Applejack and myself virtually unharmed, she rushed us in a flurry of golden feathers, wrapping us both in a rib crushing hug.

"Oh, thank Celestia," My Butterfly breathed, "you're still alive!"

"Why chucks, Flutters," Jackie replied, "I didn't know ya cared."

Tears filled the Pegasus eyes, "Of course I do, Applejack! I love you both. If any of you were to-"

"I'm not going out like that," I assure her, "Jackie nor myself are going to be taken down that easily."

Sniffling back more tears, Fluttershy nods, "Okay. I just don't think I could live with myself if any harm happened to any of you."

I wrapped my arms around both y mares, drawing them into a deep hug, "I know, I know. I don't think I could stand myself knowing I let you gals get hurt. It's nnot going to come to that, I swear to you both."

"Good," AJ sniffled, some emotion creeping through her tough exterior, "we'll hold ya t' that."

"H-how is everypony else?" Flutters asked, "nopony was- injured, were they?"

"We have some minor injuries," Twilight reports, "but nothing life threatening. You should see to Quiet Whispers, Fluttershy. That eye of hers is looking really bad."

With an epp and a resounding opening of her wings, Fluttershy set to attend Whispers injury.

"Land sakes," Applejack moaned, "those fellers mean bus'ness! Ah ain't ever seen such ornery stallions in mah life! And Ah'd seen Big Mac in his teen years..."

"Those colts were not nice," Pinkie announced, combing the soot out of her mane with a brush, "what gives them the right to mess up such a beautiful fun day?"

"To answer your question, Ms. Pie," Hand retorted, "is that the Proletariat have never given any thought to others wellbeing save their own. They are a selfish, infinitely childish group of men."

"Agreed," Rarity said, "these colts could do with some lessons in manners. They nearly pulled out my mane, for Celestia's sake! What sort of ruffians muss with a mare's mane?!"

"Only the lamest kind," Rainbow shouted, "it's not your mane that's the ruffle! Look at my wing!! It's good thing they didn't rip out any primaries... Oh, I would be knocking some heads if they did that-!"

"Whatever the case may be, these hoomans could do a lot of damage if we don't stop them here," Twilight said, "even though they appear heavily armed, they haven't actually used their weapons. Am I right in assuming those are hooman armaments, Archmage?"

I'm taken aback a little by the show of respect Twilight shows me, but I answer as swiftly as my rational mind will allow, "Your assumptions are correct. I don't know what half those weapons are, but they are most definitely human ordnance."

"And if they were to leave from here with all that firepower?" Whispers asked.

"I honestly don't think ponykind would have the power to stop such an assault," I answer, "the ancient Equestrians defeated the Terran Empire because the antediluvian humans used directed energy weapons, which unicorn magic disrupted. These guys are using ballistic weapons; even an alacorn like Twilight wouldn't be able to withstand the force of thousands of bullets pelting their magical shields for long. If they manage to march out of the Everfree, I expect them to go unopposed throughout Equestria, likely killing every stallion, mare, colt, and filly, even down to the last foal."

"Then we have to stop them!" Twilight stated, "For the sake of Equestria and all our friends and family!"

Everypony gave a general assent, if not in word then in a nod of the head. I for one shouted a "HUA!" I was of the mind that the ponies I cared about were of more value than my own life, so I was certain that I didn't want this crew to go Jack Stepping across Equestria. The fact that I cared more for this nation than i did the country I was born in never crossed my mind. It was an intuitive thing, like the very notion of not defending my new home. I knew where loyalties lay; they were the gorgeous Pegasus and the beautiful Earth pony mares that wanted me as their husband. I could no sooner relinquish them to those fascists than I could rip out my own heart. (No, I am not going to revisit that scene from "Temple of Doom." That bit has been played to death, no pun intended.)

"It is good that you all feel that way," Zecora said, "but I feel much darkness will come before the end of this day."

"Agreed," said another, more imperious voice, and I didn't need Twilight surprised shouting to know who this was.

"Princess Luna!"

The dark alacorn sidled into the Royal Hall, nodding to Twilight (who as a princess herself did not need to bow in the Moon Goddess' presence), and acknowledging the other Element Bearers and assorted other ponies in the room. She accepted their bows of reverence until she reached me. Then she rose up on her hind legs and wrapped her forehooves around my neck. I could see through the gap in Luna's mane that most everypony was some measure of shocked. Given how friendly we had been over the last little while, I was a little nonplussed myself.

Soon, Luna pulled away and considered me with a thorough gaze. She was not only looking at me, but seemingly through me. After a few moments of consideration, she smiled. I saw a twinkling in her eye, a brief flash of either recognition or mischief (with the younger diarch, it was likely both) and then she began to giggle. Like a little school filly, she started giggling.

"I see that you decided to update your wardrobe, Sir Steven," Luna chuckled, "or is that downgrade?"

I shook my head. Only Luna could find this situation laughable.

"I'll have you know," I warned, "that these are the vestments of the Office of the Imperial Archmage. I don't give a rat's tuchus if you find them funny looking. As strange as they seem, I find them rather fitting. Although I wouldn’t mind some more variety. Hopefully there’s something with a hoodie in it."

"They are quite remarkable," Rarity adds, "if I may say so, you do look rather dashing in that outfit. Wherever did you get it?"

"It's mine," I reply, "these clothes are part of the Imperial Collection and are only divested when a new Archmage comes about."

"Oh," Rarity says, "well, I must find some way to duplicate them. I bet a stallion like Big Mac would like just dalhing in them!"

"Heh-heh, yeah, I can totally see mah brother dressed in them duds," Applejack says, "he'd be the talk o' th' town. Hay, even Cheerilee would look twice in his d'rection."

When AJ said that, noticed both Luna and RD blush faintly. Well, on Luna it was faint, given that her coat is dark; Rainbow Dash on the other hand has a light colored coat, even the scantest blush shows through a bright scarlet. At the moment, she's looking like a cooked lobster.

"What are you doing here, Luna?" Twilight asks, "I didn't know you had gotten word of this incursion."

"I had not," Luna replies, "but my sister had. She is currently in negotiations with the Yaks about further treaties. We have not had a cordial relationship with Yakyakistan in ages. My sister could not be pulled away for this, so she sent me in her stead. It seems I have arrived too late..."

"Not even" I correct her, "the enemy has given us thirty minutes to bring out our dead and collect ourselves. If I don't turn myself over to their forces when that time is up, I suspect they'll bring the hammer down on us all."

"If that is the case," Luna starts, "why have you not surrendered to them? Is there some amount of pride you do not want to bend?"

"Negative," I say, "I surrender to the Proletariat, and they must just 'disappear' me. They may just eliminate me away from prying eyes. And if they had a means to reach this world, I have no doubt that once I'm out of the way, they'll march on down here in greater numbers and-"

"And what?" Luna asked, a little disturbed.

"Ever heard of a "scorched earth policy," Lady Luna?"

The Night Princess shakes her head negative.

"Let's just say," I explain, "that the Proletariat would think nothing of burning every city, town, and village in Equestria as they march within, conquering all in their wake. They may not even stop in Equestria; I have a feeling they want to reclaim this world as their own. I don't think they'll care much for anything that takes up space on their 'home world.'"

"Ah, I see," Luna pondered, "then that is that. My friend, Sir Steven, I could not afford to lose you as I have lost so many good friends already. If you would allow it, I would gladly fight alongside you, to insure that my little ponies are not threatened by this scum!"

I give a little bow and say, "Far be it from me to dictate what the Princess of the Night can do of her own volition. If you wish to join me and mine in this battle, so be it. A word of warning, though. Would I be right in assuming that Twilight has shown you all the evidence of the Ponyville Riot?"

"Indeed, she has," Luna answers, "I have even seen these 'firearms' of which had been spoken of the last that I was in Ponyville. These pistols that your people made have made for many disturbing nights in my little ponies dreams. How in the name of all that is holy did such armaments make their way here?"

"I'm thinking the passengers on the plane carried them onboard," I say, "although they shouldn't have been able to. Transportation Safety Administration rules clearly state that only a sky marshal can carry a firearm in an airport as well as on board any aircraft. Unless I’m wrong, but given everything happening back home, I don’t think I could be. So where they got those is beyond me."

"Do you think these brigands are carrying more of the same?" Luna asks.

"I don't know if you've seen them yet," Twilight says, "but I don't think they're carrying any 'pistols' on them"

"More like submachine guns and assault rifles," I add, getting stares from everypony in the room.

Luna queries of me, "What are these 'submachine guns and assault rifles' of which you speak, Sir Steven?"

"I'm not sure I can adequately explain," I say, "might be better if I show you."

Bidding Luna to follow, I return to the battlements. Luna stays close behind me, a worried look on her face. Mounting a winding staircase to the top of the battlements, I advise Luna to get as low as she can. She does so, dropping on her elbows (do horses, and likewise ponies, have elbows?) I crouch down on my knees and proceed up the stairs. Once on top of the battlements, I make my way to a crenelation, poking my head out just enough to see the troopers ringing the gorge around the castle. Once I was sure of my sight line, I gestured for Luna to follow suite. She did, lengthening her neck above the lip of the crenelation. It should have been humorous to see the princess' jaw drop like that; in such a stressful situation, I saw no comedy in such an exaggerated expression.

"So many..." Luna commented, "and those weapons... We hath never seen the like in all our years..."

"Nor have I," I whispered, "but even if I don't recognize half of the ordnance they're wielding, I know for certain that they have some serious hardware down there."

Luna nods and suggests we should return to our friends. I agree and we skulk back down the battlements stairs. Upon returning to the others, we find that Twilight has organized a battle plan for further engagements with our foes outside. Despite her obvious distaste for physical confrontation, little Twilight is quite the adept little general when she needs to be. I managed a quick peek at the map she had conjured with her magic. I felt Archmage Ambrose raise an appreciative eye for the detailed plotting and tactics used for this operation. The former Primus Legate was mighty impressed with the little alacorn's strategic plotting.

“Young Twilight has quite the tactical mind, does she not?” Luna comments.

“She is the one making all those lists,” I respond, “It wouldn’t surprise me, with her brother being former military, that she didn’t pick up a trick or two from him. I bet planning war games is something that she could do well, maybe even enjoy, if it didn’t keep her away from her studies or get boring after a while.”

“Boring?!” demands an outraged voice, “how could all this chaos be ‘boring?!’ If anything this is the most exciting thing that’s happened around here since I was reformed!”

Luna and I both growled out “Discord!” like a malediction.

Appearing ex nihilo, the reformed god of chaos hovers in front of the two of us, a broad grin on his face. He can’t hide the malice burning in his eyes, but I don’t think he wants to. The clash and bangs of battle wouldn’t be that hard to hear unless one was deaf. I hardly think Discord is one who would feign deafness unless if proved humorous in some way. Still, his presence here is not entirely without merit. If he is even a tenth of the being he was before the Harmony Elements encased him in stone, then any effort he can bring to this battle would be appreciated, by one side or the other. I’m hoping it will be for us.

“So,” I venture towards the spirit of dissension, “I take you’ve heard the fighting?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Discord asks, then he spreads his mismatched limbs wide and says, “half of New Jersey could hear this!”

“What is this- ‘New Jersey’?” Luna ponders.

“Oh, it’s nowhere you’ve ever been,” Discord proffers, “in any case, this looks like the kind of fun I can get behind.”

“You mind yourself, Discord,” Luna warns, “my sister may be quite forgiving of your past indiscretions, but I am not.”

“Oh, Luna, don’t you worry about little ole me,” Discord coos, “if anything I’d watch out for him.”

The chimera’s claw is pointing towards me, leaving me a bit mystified.

“I’m sorry but what?” I question, “Aren’t you the spirit of chaos and disharmony?”

Naturally, a halo appears over Discord’s head; he blinks his eyes in a coquettish manner, and I’m sure he’s priming his voice to sound wholesome and innocent. I half expected him to break out into a Gollum routine. It wouldn’t be the first time the draconequus had pulled something from my pop culture past to torment me/amuse himself/confuse everypony.

The next words out of his mouth are, “Why does it hate Discord?” in that perfect Andy Serkis voice and I’m visited by the mad, even savage, desire to throttle the chimera within an inch of his forsaken life. Sensing I was about to commit homicide or wanting to limit the draconequus ravings, Luna steps up to Discord, plants her muzzle against his own and growls. The look on his face is equal parts frightened and frustrated.

“We have no time for thine foolishness, Harlequin,” Luna seethes, “we are at war, with an invader of such vitriol against ponykind that even We fear them. So, we ask of you, just this once, wilt thou stand with Us or against Us?”

Discord takes a few moments to respond, during which time, he pulls a baseball cap from out of the aether (I can see his magic ripping open the fabric of reality and pulling the item from some one-off dimension.) The whole thing is a navy in color, with lettering on the front of that read, “Thinking Cap,” in block capitals. More worrying was the pull chain toilet and the placard reading, “Discord’s Thinkin’ Spot.” I had to hand it the creature; when he went all in, only Roger Rabbit himself could come close and even then, the animated lagomorph would still be left in the dust.

“All right, all right,” Discord said, a hint of disappointment in his voice, “I’ll help you guys out,” then before Luna could thank him, the chimera stated, “only for her sake, though.”

I didn’t need to ask of whom he was speaking; given all that Fluttershy has told me of her friendship with the draconequus, I had to imagine that he wouldn’t risk his friendship with her, or the wrath of the golden Pegasus. If he failed in even the slightest, Flutters would let him know in no uncertain terms. If ever there was an insurance policy against Discord’s mania, this was it.

“We’ll take it,” I say, earning a sharp look from Luna, “What? It’s not like we’re going to get a better offer here. Also, if I may be so bold, two alacorns, a fire team of unicorns and Pegasi alike, a cohort of Earth ponies and a myself stand a very slim chance of beating these guys! Any added help that can be rendered to us should be received openly. Right?”

A sigh escaped the Lunar Goddess’ muzzle, “Yea, verily. We suppose you are right, Sir Steven,” then to Discord, “even so, this does not mean you are given carte blanche . Your chaos only extends to the enemies encircling us. Agreed?”

“Of course, Princess Luna,” Discord answers, “I shall be on my best but most unpredictable behavior.”

“Fair enough,” Luna grumbles, “come, then. There is much work to be done.”

The three of us rejoined Twilight and her friends around the table she conjured up from another room. All of the first response team was here, save for the green Pegasus whose name I hadn’t gotten yet. Then there was AJ, Flutters, RD, Rarity, Pinkie, Lady Twilight, and- Spike? When did I Spike get here?

“Ah, good, you’re back,” Twilight said, “and you brought company.”

“You know me, Princess,” Discord cooed, “I’m always up for a party.”

“But this isn’t a party,” Pinkie replied, “this is a fight! If it were a party, I’d have cake, and presents, and streamers, and balloons, and ice cream but no oatmeal. Seriously, who brings oatmeal to a party? That’s like hoofing out rocks on Nightmare Night. I mean, who could be the mean? Do they want ponies to hate the-”

“Ah think we get it, Pinkie Pie,” AJ said, cutting across the pink party paradox pony with a hoof to the mouth, “let’s just assume ev’rypony knows we’re in a brouhaha and leave at that.”

Pinkie nodded, AJ’s right forehoof still stuffed in her mouth.

“Well, now that that is settled…” Discord started, only for Luna to finish, “Twilight, are your preparations completed? Do we have a plan in place to defend the kingdom against these invaders?”

“We do,” Purple Smart replied, “though some of the options we have you’re not going to like.”

“What options-” Luna began only for Fluttershy to barge in, “We are NOT going to hand in Stevie to those- those- ruffians! If we have to fight, then- then I will fight. I care too much for him to allow these brigands to take my Stevie-kins.”

“Oh, Fluttershy-!” I groan.

“Ah’m with Flutters,” AJ remarks, “them fellars ain’t nothin’ but trouble! Who’s t’say they ain’t just gonna turn their weapons on th’ rest o’ Equestria! Ah know you an’ Steve ain’t the best of friends, and maybe ya find my relationship with ‘im a -”

“Unorthodox?” Twilight opines.

“Untraditional,” AJ answers, “but Ah’ve gotten to love ‘em just the same as Flutters has and Ah ain’t lettin’ ‘im get taken by some ponyfeatherin’, low-down, no-account varmints from draggin’ ‘im off Celestia knows where.”

“I would concur with Miss Apple, Twilight,” Luna said, “as easy it may be to simply ‘hand over’ Sir Steven, I would be remiss to allow such a thing to happen when he has lovers,” Flutters and AJ blush at the mention, “and friends,” Spike smiles widely, as do Lyra and Bonnie but to my surprise, Luna’s cheeks redden as well, “who would no doubt be heartbroken should anything happen to him in enemy hands. Now, is there any option you have available that does not require the sacrifice of Sir Steven? Or should I draw up my own plans?”

“Uh, no- No, Luna!” Twilight quickly backpedals, “I have plans- contingencies, really, in case we need to do that, but most of my current strategies include a vibrant defense of the Castle. In fact, I had just asked Longbow to give me a situational report of the enemy’s condition.”

“Indeed, she did,” speaks a new voice I hadn’t heard before. I look towards the place where I can hear the voice coming from and there, standing in the lee of a stairway, is the green Pegasus from previous, a long, wooden bow strapped to her back and between her wings. It’s a wonder anyone could hear her; she could could give Fluttershy lessons in having a quiet voice.

“What did you find out, Longbow?” Twilight asks.

“It is not good,” Longbow answers, “the enemy has taken on reinforcements. I estimate their numbers at roughly an additional fifteen thousand.”

Twilight and Luna both start at this revelation. Hell, even I’m surprised by the number. I knew for sure there were more than a few hundred of Proletariat troopers, but they must have had a whole troop waiting in the wings. Now how in all the infernal Hells did they manage to pull that off?!

“But- but that’s-” Twilight stuttered.

“Oh, boy, this is going to be such fun!” Discord delighted, earning him a sharp look not only from Lady Luna but from Fluttershy as well; he promptly ignored them both.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say, “in numbers that large, all we need to do is break their lines, take out their commanders, and the troops will fall into disarray.”

I have no idea if this is true or not, but it sounds right to me. Even Archmage Ambrose sees fit to agree with my statement.

“Arrows, let flown each to each/Meet midway and slice/The void in aimless flight/Thus I return to the source.”

I hear that chant, something both strange and familiar, and turn on the spot. The source of the chant is Lyra, the surprise combatant in this fracas. She is sitting along the back wall of the “war room” in what I can only assume is the Equestrian version of the Lotus Position. It looks rather painful to me; I don’t think I could get myself seated like that and the human body is far better suited for the Lotus Position than a pony. Still, Lyra looks comfortable, and shows no sign of discomfort.

I walk over to Lyra; Bon Bon has joined her marefriend at this side of the chamber and is seated on her haunches like most ponies do. Lyra seems oblivious to the universe, but Bonnie Lass is chewing on a cupcake Pinkie provided. She sees me coming, gives me a wan smile and offers her signature sweet to me. I nod, take from her outstretched hoof, being careful not to press too deep in the frog of her hoof, and unwrap the sweet. When I pop it in my mouth, I get an veritable explosion of sweet flavors in my mouth. This is the sort of confection I wish I could sample back- home. It’s like- The best I can describe it is a Wether’s Original™ caramel wrapped in a SweetTart™, and deep fried in Hershey’s chocolate. It also has a gooey, Nerds™filled center. My brain just could not process how delicious this is.

“Sugar coma…imminent…” I jest, “flavor…too…sweet!”

“Stop it, you,” Bon Bon chides, “besides, you can’t tell me you didn’t like that.”

“You’re right,” I reply, “I loved that! What do you call it?”

“Trade secret,” Bonnie Lass replies, “no lie. I’m calling it ‘Trade Secret.’ Lyra thinks it’s a cute- what did you call it, Ly-Ly?”

“Nomenclature,” Lyra answers.

“By the by, Lyra, just what in the name of Mike are you doing?” I ask.

“I am mediating,” the minty unicorn says, “if the battle is going to recommence soon, I need to be in balance.”

“That’s my lovely Still Way Grandmaster!” Bonnie gushes.

“Still Way?” I muse, “what is that?”

“It is the ancient art of unicorn martial combat,” Lyra tells me, “it is the art of being still and in motion all at once. It is the mastery of one’s internal harmony to surmount the inherent chaos of The Universe.”

“Sounds like Taoism,” I reply, “Ying, Yang, always circling each other, Cosmic Balance in perpetual equilibrium. Or something…”

“That’s one way to view it,” Lyra replied calmly, “The Still Way is a unicorn martial art that focuses on turning an opponent's attack back upon them. It is a practice of both martial skill and arcane talent.”

“And my Ly-Ly is a master of it, the youngest in several generations,” Bonbon added, “I think you’ve seen the effects of her prowess.”

“I have,” I answer back, “not even Lady Twilight has the skill to engage as many hostiles as Lyra here.I am thoroughly impressed, Minty.”

“While I appreciate your comment,” Lyra said, “I haven't mastered the Still Way for adoration or fame. I mastered it to protect others.”

“Then you’re doing your job well,” I add, “I may need to learn more about his Still Way. I think I could incorporate it into my own skill set; it would add some much needed defensive skill into my repertoire.”

Lyra nods, saying, “Should we survive this, I would gladly teach you. Although, I don’t know how you would function in the Still Way without a horn. It is the basis of a great many magical techniques in the Still Way.”

I ask, “Would you believe me if I told you that human magic doesn’t require a singular focus of power? That we could use our hands, feet, even our eyes to cast magic?”

“You know,” Bonbon says, “I think I’ve seen some of the stuff you do, Mr. Handy and I don’t recall any instance where I saw any magical aura. I know what a unicorn’s aura looks like, thanks to living so long in Ponyville.”

“True, true,” I say, “well, human magic is drawn from the world around them, pulled out of the aether, if you will. I guess it could be said that humans pull magic toward them, not from within themselves.”

“Fascinating,” Lyra breathed, “humans have no internal mana reserve?”

“Nope,” I reply, “we draw from the world around us,” then I add, “I really wish you could listen in to the voices of my predecessors. The insight they can provide into Arcanus Sapiens…”

“Sir Steven?”

Luna has walked up to us, a look of concern etched upon her face.

“Your highness,” Bonbon says, effecting a low bow, “is there something you need? I have plenty of sweets to help on hoof, if you would want one.”

“We are not our sister,” Luna says, returning to her most imperious voice, “but we are not adverse to the occasional sweet.”

Bonbon, who at first was frowning deeply, now beams as she goes into her saddlebag and pulls out a toffee wrapped in golden foil.

“These are Princess Celestia’s favorites,” the confectionaire explains, “but everypony I know loves them.”

Luna grabs in her aura, a sparkly, cerulean thing (or something that looks cerulean to me, and unwraps the sweet. After plopping it in her mouth, the Lunar Goddess chews on it a while, murmuring with enjoyment. (Hey Mikey, I think she likes it!) She lingers on the treat for a while before swallowing it, smacking her lips in appreciation.

“My stars,” Luna gasps, “that was most tasty! Praytell, what was the flavor of that delectable foodstuff?”

“I call them Sundrops,” Bonbon explains, “they’re a special recipe made with caramel and sunflower seed oil.”

Luna is still in post-candy bliss, but she does manage to say, “So this is how Tia’s flank has swelled up so?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness?” Bonbon asks.

Snapping from her reverie, Luna responds, “My apologies, Lady Bonbon, my mind ‘twas wandering afield… Might ye have anything flavored with spearmint?”

“I- I d-don’t think I do,” Bonbon answers, “but I have been looking for a new challenge.”

“We thank ye, Lady Bonbon” Luna says, “now, if ye would excuse me, we did wish to speak privately with Sir Steven.”

“Excuse me, ladies,” I start, rising from less than comfortable seating position, “this lovely mare has need of me.”

Once I’m fully upright again, Princess Luna beckons me to another corner of the hall, near one of the hallways leading out of the hall but adjacent to the thrones. We’re still in sight of the others, but there’s enough shadow to obscure both our figures. That helps, when Luna suddenly hugs me. I cannot begin to tell you how surprised or awkward I felt when she threw her arms around me. (Yes, I would later learn that the upper part of a pony’s legs are called arms. Who knew?) I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the physical displays of affection these ponies are so fond of.

“It is so good to see you again, Sir Steven” Luna breathes as she releases from the rib cracking embrace, “though I do wish it were better circumstances.”

"It’s not as if there’s a more opportune time around, is it?” I ask, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown, yes?”

Luna nods in affirmation, “Indeed, Sir Steven, even as newly returned as I am, the mantle of responsibility weighs over me as it does my sister. When I am not attending court or marshalling my personal guard, I am usually with my personal ‘societal liaison,’ as I try to integrate myself with my little ponies, again. It is- hard work, much harder than I had ever anticipated.”

“‘Anything worth doing is worth doing right,’” I say, “Can’t be sure who said that, but it’s a good quote.”

“Agreed,” Luna says, “it helps, somewhat, that you and I write to each other as often as we do. I find your letters encouraging. Also, they are- stimulating. I have never had a lesson with Hard Luck that was informative or as amusing as your letters are.”

I chuckle at that, adding, “Well, I try.”

Luna let's loose a rather girlish giggle when I say that but afterwards, she’s goes silent. An awkward pallor settles between us and i have no way to break the awful quiet that permeates the air. Luna doesn’t help in my endeavor to get the conversation going; she has settled to looking at anywhere that isn’t in my general vicinity. I was about to walk away when Luna opens her mouth- to say nothing. She closes her muzzle with a nary a sound.

“Well, this has been fun,” I quip, “I’ll go and see how the other are doing-”

I only get a step when Luna’s hoof grabs my shoulder, “Wait…”

I turn back to Luna, “Yeah?”

The look in Luna’s eyes is- well, it’s pained and hesitant, as far as I can tell. She looks like she’s holding something back and badly wants to say what’s roaring in her mind. An internal war of conscious, with no clear winner. I was about to put a hand on her withers, as a way to comfort her when she asks, “What was it you said to me, back during the Grand Galloping Gala?”

I recite with little hesitation, “‘I’m bad, and that’s good; I’ll never be good, and that’s not bad…’”

Luna finishes the quote for me, well, she paraphrases it some, but she finishes it “‘There’s nopony I’d rather be than me.’”

“Luna, are you okay?” I ask.

“I wish I could say yes,” Luna answers, “but that would be a lie. The last few weeks have been rather bothersome. My subjects still act as though I am a monster, I am ostracized by the nobles and in the wake of Blueblood’s fall from grace, I have been accused of being derelict in my duties as a princess.”

“Those sons of bitches!” I growl, “what in the Hell do they know?! Do they have an entire kingdom that depends on them to weigh on issues and procure judgment on cases? Do they even work for a living?”

Luna titters some, upon hearing my rant, eliciting her sister’s mannerisms, “Good points. You see, this is why I find you such a good friend. You bring a different perspective. I speak with my sister about these things, but she sometimes is more obtuse about my trials and tribulations that I may as well be speaking to the pillows in my boudoir.”

“She at least tries,” I counter, “she wasn’t nearly as responsive when you became the Nightmare. Wasn’t she?”

Tittering again, Luna replies, “No, no she wasn’t. I should count myself lucky that I have two best friends to speak about these things.”

“More than two,” I retort, “have you written to the Elements, yet? I’m sure they’d be more than willing to lend you a fresh set of eyes on your problems. Or they may share some insight on how to navigate modern Equestria. Methinks you, Rarity, and Twilight would get along all right.”

“I-” Luna starts, “I have have availed myself of their council. I have been hesitant to do so lest I drive them away with all my troubles.”

“I don’t think they would see of you as dumping your issues on them,” I reply, “that’s what good friends would do, share their burdens.”

Slowly, a smile graces Luna’s muzzle. It’s the singular most beautiful thing to see here in the castle besides My Butterfly.

“You are right, Sir Steven,” Luna says, “I let myself be isolated from my little ponies and that cost me dearly. I shall- Sorry. I will do as you suggest. If I were to- ‘reach out and touch somepony,’ as you have stated before, maybe I could adjust more thoroughly, more quickly.”

“Perhaps,” I muse, “and who knows? Maybe you’ll able to teach Twilight a thing or three about being royalty?”

Luna titters again, replying thusly: “She is stall rather green with her duties.”

“Also, think of how nice it would be to have friends away from Canterlot,” I beam, “friends that can know you outside of your official duties, even.”

“You’re right!” Luna exclaims, well away from her Royal Canterlot Voice, “it would be a nice change of pace to speak with ponies on a more casual basis.”

I nod enthusiastically, then say, “Anything else to get off your chest, or barrel, as the case may be?”

“No, methinks,” Luna answers, “I think I have burdened your ears with my follies long enough.”

“Excellent,” I say, before I hear the sound of ponies rising as one and marching away from the Royal Hall.

“So,” I begin, “is today a good day to die or what?”

“Aye, ‘tis is,” Luna agrees, “although I would prefer not to. This is my second chance at life, and I’d rather it not end here before I can do some good in this world.”

“Same here,” I say, ”I’m only in the second act of my life, so I am not ready to buy a farm today. But If I’m going down, I’m going to take a number of my enemies with me. I just pray that somebody upstairs is rooting for me…”

Luna nods, smiling a little nervously but still holding it together, as she shakes her mane; her horn lights up as a powerful cantrip spreads over her frame. It’s an awesome sight to behold as the spell spreads over Luna’s frame, spooling intricately scrolled metal from the aether. In seconds, her entire body is covered in armor. In color palette, it matches what her bat ponies wear, but in design, it looks more- modern. From barrel to haunch and covering her thighs to her fetlocks, Luna's armor makes her a formidable presence, and that's not counting the large scythe she wields in her magical field. Or, for that matter, the razor sharp wing tips covering the arms of her wings. It's a spectacular if frightening sight.

"I am ready," Luna announces.

"Alright then," I say, “let’s go join the others.”

We emerge from our hiding place to be met by an expectant Pinkie Pie. My inner monologue makes a horrible Pokémon joke. It takes everything I can muster not to groan, especially when my predecessors ask me what that thought meant. “A wild Pinkie Pie appears,” might too much for them right now and I am hard pressed for time as is.

“Whatcha doin’?” the pink party paradox pony asks.

“We were talking,” I answer honestly, “Luna was feeling a little down and I offered some advice.”

“Great advice,” Luna quips, “more sage than anything I have heard in sometime.”

“If the next words out of your muzzle are anything that sounds even remotely like ‘Starswirl the Bearded,’ I will shunt you to a plane of misery and torment so terrible that will make the moon feel like a resort spa,” I threaten.

All that does to Luna is cause her to roll her eyes.

“Aww,” Pinkie coos, “you two make such a cute couple!”

Pinkie then bounces away, humming to herself. Luna’s face, underneath the helmet of her armor, is blazing beetroot red. I’m flustered, really, totally speechless. What in the Hell was Pinkie talking about? There is no way Princess Luna likes me in that way. Right? Ugh, can’t be thinking about this right now.

“Stevie, are you alright?” Fluttershy asks, which startles me a little. Okay, it startles me a lot.

“Ah, “Fluttershy,” I breath, “kinda got lost in my head for a minute there.”

“It felt like more than a minute,” Luna quips.

Fluttershy looks between myself and Luna and a nervous smile spreads across her muzzle.

“Is there something going on that I should know about?” Fluttershy asks.

I make to reply but Luna beats me to it, “No, there isn’t, Fairest Fluttershy. You may rest easy. Your fiancee and I were discussing some of the troubles I am having in acclimating to modern life. I- realize that my presence unnerves you, Ms. Shywing, but if you will, I must ask you of a favor.”

“A-a favor?” Flutters queries.

“Yes,” Luna confirms, “Sir Steven has made certain allusions to me about branching out from my Canterlot comrades and begin some correspondence with others away from the Palace. If- if I could be so bold, and you don’t have to accept right away or accept at all, I would understand-”

“Get on with it, Blue,” I murmur, “daylight, it’s burning.”

“Yes, right,” Luna says, giving me a stern glare before softening her tone once more and speaking again to Fluttershy, “I would like, very much, if could write to you. I already write oft enough with your betrothed, but I would very much like to think of you as a- pen pal. Would-would that be- alright?”

Fluttershy is quiet for a little bit before saying, “Mhmm, I would be glad to!”

Luna let's out a girlish squee, practically dancing on the tips of her hooves before she restrains herself again. I’m pretty sure there’s a part of the Lunar Princess that wants to hug Fluttershy, but she refrains.Fluttershy told me about the first time Luna returned to Ponyville after being released from the Nightmare. She described Luna’s hug as “rib crushing and life threatening.” Although, by Flutters account, she was already frightened out of her mind by Nightmare Night and Luna’s presence during that particular evening hadn’t done her any favors.The smile she has, though, hasn’t left her face. She is very much effulgent with joy. When she speaks again, I can tell she is just barely containing her excitement.

“Thank you, thank you, Lady Fluttershy! I will endeavor to write as often as I can. I will even include my letter to you in Sir Steven’s correspondence. Will that be acceptable?”

Fluttershy and I both nod, Flutters with a nervous grin, me with a more genuine smile. I can hear the distant shuffle of anxious ponies from the courtyard, where I’m certain that the others have gathered to prepare for combat. I’ve been a bit neglectful of my own preparations, but I do have the advantage of nearly a million years of experience in all things arcane and plenitudes of battle tested tactics. Although, I’m thinking I should have had something more to eat, stretched out a little, and gotten some water in me. I hope neither my bladder nor my colon decide to leak while we engage with the enemy; that would be embarrassing. I can’t stay lost in musings though. I come back to present tense, with Luna still in her “excitable little filly state” and Fluttershy looking very cautious and fearful about what’s about to happen.

“Oooo,” Luna squeals, “I cannot wait to inform Tia!”

“Pending we get out of this in one piece, that is,” I remark.

“Stevie,” Flutters calls to me, and bring myself eye level with her.

“Yes, Butterfly?”

The golden Pegasus wraps her arms around my neck, tears streaming from her closed eyes and whispers in my ear, “Please, please, don’t die!”

“I’ll avoid it as much as I can,” I say, even as trumpets ring out a new rallying cry, then, to the rest of defenders of The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, I cry "eyes on, everypony! Here comes the second wave!"

The Toy Soldiers are off to War…

40 Let's Start a Riot, Part 2

View Online

-Ancient Ruins of The Castle of The Royal Pony Sisters,

Everfree Forest-

And there we were, two Alacorns, three Pegasi, four Earth ponies, a drake, a draconequus chimera and myself, rushing off to fight a horde of 25,000. The Spartans at Hell’s Gate would love the poeticism and gravity of the situation. And in this assault, I saw that the Proletariat troopers were given a greenlight to engage with lethal force. Every soldier I laid eyes on was charging their weapons, ready to fire. Even amongst this sea of red and black (Goddess, what a fashion statement!) I could tell who was Cptn. Norris. He was the only one in the riot who wore jackboots and whose entire uniform looked pressed and cleaned. He was brandishing a bullhorn, and what looked like an M-4, and brought the device to his lips when we emerged from the castle.

“MR. AMBROSE,” his amplified voice bellowed, “HAVE YOU MADE THE RIGHT DECISION?”

“You make it sound as if I had no other choices,” I roar, “but I did come to a decision.”

Looking at that smug face, I was sure Cptn. Norris was certain I was going to surrender myself to his hands. Looking around at the resupplied army sitting around the canyon that protected the castle, it seem a logical if not foregone conclusion. The additional reinforcements were meant to intimidate any opposition into compliance. Boy, was Norris’ disappointment was going to be the highlight to my day.

“I SEE,” the Captain said, “IN THAT CASE, IF YOU WERE RELINQUISH YOUR ARMAMENTS AND COME OUT TO US WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD-”

“I don’t think you understand, Captain,” I yelled, cutting of the officious officer, “I’m not going anywhere. That was my decision.”

“IS THAT YOUR FINAL ANSWER?” Norris asked.

And I answered, “‘Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, into the valley of death, rode the six hundred.’”

I saw the Captain shake his head, and as one, the soldiers under his command raised their weapons.

“Okay, ponies, this our situation,” I called, allowing some time for the others to group around me.

“We are surrounded,” Luna stated, “our enemies are heavily armed and it appears that they are heavily armored, as well.”

“We’re outnumbered by an h’dr’d an’ one,” Applejack stated, “an’ Ah don’ think we’re gonna git any help from town.”

“Actually,” Twilight corrected, “we’re outnumbered- by a lot worse than that, Applejack.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rainbow Dash said, and when Twilight tried to get a word in, Dash shut her up with a defiant glare, seething, “It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

After a few moments of silence, we all nodded our heads and set about our grim business.

--Terran Empire Primary Ecumene Core--

=Ancilla# Heart That Weeps=

=Ancilla# Heart that Weeps>>permission/access/emergency/emergency_medical_ancillary_unit.app

=Ecumene_protocol>>passphrase?

=Ancilla# Heart That Weeps>> passphrase: **** **** *******

=Ecumene_protocol>>passphrase accepted!

=Ecumene_protocol >>Ancilla# Heart That Weeps/permission/access/emergency/emergency_medical_ancillary_unit.app>>permission_granted

>: protocol /initiate/emergency__first_aid.app

>: protocol/initiate/emergency__first_aid.app/activate

>:

>: protocol/initiate/emergency__combat_surgery.app

>: protocol/initiate/emergency__combat_surgery.app/activate

>:

>: protocol/initiate/psychiatric_services__post_trauma_initiative.app

>: protocol/initiate/psychiatric_services__post_trauma_initiative.app/activate

>:

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# pathology>>standby

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# pathos>>activate

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# logos>>activate

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# id>>activate

>: routine/initiate/artificially_intelligent_ancillary _unit//subroutine# ego>>activate

>:

>: standby

>: routine/generate/physical_assets__equipment.med

>: routine/generate/physical_assets__equipment.med/replicate

>:

>: command/protocol/initiate/trajectory//artificially_intelligent_ancillary_unit# unknown?

>: command/protocol/initiate/trajectory//artificially_intelligent_ancillary_unit# unknown?>>generating…

=Ecumene_protocol>>estimated_time_of_ancillary_unit_construction: T- 71.45.99, appx.

“Um, Miss Hand,” Fluttershy eeks out, “Are- are you there?”

After a brief pause, a voice calls out softly, “Yes, Ms Shywing, I am here.”

The butter yellow Pegasus startles slightly, before calming herself. A hoof goes over her heart, which is hammering as hard as the pistons of the Friendship Express.

“Um, if it’s not too much trouble,” Fluttershy squeaks, “could- could you tell me what’s going on, uh, outside?”

“Gladly,” Hand replies, “it well be no trouble for me. Please standby…”

Fluttershy only has to wait a heartbeat before Hand That Mourns appears, in a raised dais of her own, for a report of the battle raging without the dilapidated castle’s walls. Around the holographic emitter, there emerge more holograms, this time of the area surrounding the Castle and the woods beyond. Fluttershy could see small dots littering the landscape. Even if the system used was more complicated than anything she had seen before, she understood that the red dots pouring their way to the Castle were the enemy, the green dots were allies and friends, and the blue dot in the middle of it all was her beloved Steve.

She began to shudder as she watched the battle break out in real time. There were so many hostile soldiers and so few defenders that she began to wonder if any would survive the day. She and her friends had fought against some powerful foes before, but never in this number or ferocity. Even through the castle’s walls, she could hear the screams, the battle cries, the thunder of the enemy’s weapons- It was like watching her great grandfather standing at the head of the Thundering Fusilade, raining Princess Celestia’s wrath upon Equestria’s foes.

As fearful and anxious as she was for her friends and lovers sakes, she wanted desperately to assist in the defense of the castle. Sure, it was creepy, dark, scary and full of traps and secrets passages, but it was an important landmark. This is where she and her friends acquired the Elements of Harmony. This is where the foundations of Equestria were struck and solidified. And for any enemy, pony or not, to lay siege to the place, was not only uncouth (as Rarity would state) but it was also decidedly abhorrent of them to do so.

The fury that was both gift and curse to The Shywing clan rose up in Fluttershy, through, as she reflected on it, it wasn’t as prominent or as large as it had been these last few months. She was now starting to feel sorry for the filly she threatened some time ago. In her defense, Fluttershy was standing for her stallion, as was societally acceptable for a mare of breeding age and stabled with a stallion. And while Steven didn’t conform to the natural definition of a stallion, he was hers and she was his. Anypony that threatened him threatened her by proxy. Very few opponents to the Shywing Clan ever stood against them for long or without suffering humiliating defeat. As much an outlier in the Clan as anypony was, Fluttershy was still possessed of that old Pegasi imperative to protect her herd.

“Ms. Hand?” She called out, drawing the pnuema ex machina back to the surface.

“Yes, Ms. Shywing?” Hand That Mourns asked, “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Are there- there any, uh, wounded, out on the ba-battlefield?”

Hand’s distinct holographic visage paled for a moment, but she replied, “Nay, there have been no casualties as of late.” The ancilla paused for a moment before inquiring, “Why do you ask?”

The question was posited too late; Fluttershy had already gone.

No sooner had we broken from our group huddle did shots ring out. The first line of troopers through the veil I created were staggering, firing blind. Many of the shots went wild, pinging off the masonry or burrowing into the ground. A select few managed to keep in the air, but none were able to hit initially. I felt one buzz by my head, just a few scant inches away from my left ear. It was all the impetus I needed to engage my foes.

By the same impetus, Applejack and Rainbow Dash rushed into a crowd of staggering troops, who by some fit of genius or intuition, had decided not to fire their weapons until after they’re vertigo subsided. Several of those self same soldiers has already gotten themselves reorientated and pointed their weapons at the mares; Applejack let loose her opinion on the matter by bucking the two troopers nearest her. Rainbow replied in kind by streaking high into the crow with a flying punch that could make Chuck Norris envious, sending a squad of soldiers back through the veil.

Rarity was back at making caltrops of ribbon and thread; in this instance, she used her ingenious designs to grab enemy weapons and throw them back through the veil. Unarmed soldiers were then left to the mercy of Princesses Luna and Twilight, who used their magic to enchant boulders, rubble, and tree branches to sweep foes away. (Directly attacking them with magic would have adverse effects on the humans, which I am sure neither royal wanted to have the death of humans attributed to them.)

As for myself, I like to believe I acquitted myself well in handling my nemeses. Several troopers had come through the veil with little loss of perception. They did hesitate for a moment and that was all the opening I need. Buffed up with Titan’s Boon and Mercury’s Gift, I boosted towards them, throwing a haymaker that knocked many of them down and more than a few back through the veil. Spike and Discord covered my flank, the former spraying sunflower fire at approaching forces, the latter raining chocolate milk and drifting in a fog of cotton candy to trip up foes. It was kinda funny, seeing grown men freak out over getting barbecued, only to slip in chocolate milk and fall splat into a haze of sticky, spun sugar.

Another boost, another wild haymaker, and a platoon of troopers went flying back through the veil, though I think I may have busted a jaw or two. I’m unsure of where the power boost I was getting for my spells was coming at the time. It was only later that I understood it completely and even then, it was still rather bewildering. In that moment though, I didn’t question it much, I just relished in it. It proved necessary, too, when the enemy rolled in an armored personnel carrier. How they got one here was beyond me, but a flash of magical fire (mine, not Spike’s) melted the side panels enough to pop the tires and send the troops inside scrambling back across the veil.

“Praytell, Sir Steven,” Princess Luna asks, “but what manner of chariot is that?”

“An APC,” I answer back, yelling to heard over the battle cries and crackling flames, “think of it as a large, armored chariot, big enough to handle twenty human sized troops within.”

“Understood,” The Moon Goddess replies, “my little ponies, push back these behemoths when ye see them! Do not let them make a hoofhold on this plane!”

There were general sounds of agreement over the combat cacophony.

It wouldn’t be the only APC to roll in, though. Captain Norris’ new stratagem, it appeared, was to use the APCs to get past the veil and flames, then unload fresh troops in waves. Princess Luna was the the first to rumble onto it, calling out the vehicles as they rolled in. She used her magic to blast the vehicles as the emerged from the flame wall, disabling some, fusing the plating of others. One particular strident APC was hit with a powerful blast of arcane energy; it was pushed back as the driver of the vehicle attempted to ram on through. Luna was successful in repelling the carrier and from what I saw, it tumbled it's way down the ravine to hit the ground below. No Hollywood style explosion, though, for which I was thankful.

I can hardly imagine what an unconstrained fire this deep in the forest would do. I did not want to think of the contamination possible with the diesel spilling from the fuel tank, the acid in the battery, the various heavy metals of the vehicle itself, would do to this environment. I was hoping to minimize any environmental damage to the point of being negligible; busting APCs is going to affect that objective negatively. I thought ruefully that Capt. Norris didn’t think upon the impact of polluting human artifice on such a pristine ecosystem. I wanted him dead even more now than I ever did!

More APCs blundered in, some with the big machine guns on top spitting out death at all angles. It was a trial to avoid the rounds as they punctuated the air. My pony companions were equally troubled with the guns, their quadrupedal forms tripping over themselves as the bullets flew. In any other context, this would be hilarious. Seeing as this was a life-and-death scenario, I could find no humor in dodging hot lead as my friends and lovers bounced and skipped around likewise.

Summoning magic into myself, I took a leap to avoid a new volley of flying lead but instead of landing a few feet away, I was propelled meters above the combat theater. My descent and landing were amplified magically, allowing me slam into the earth with the power of a bunk buster. The resultant shock wave, which all the ponies avoided with the simple expedience of a well timed jump, lifted the APCs and the troops pouring out of the them. Several pairs of the armored vehicles crashed into each other; many flew backwards past the veil and back into array of soldiers beyond. I heard the panicked screaming as the dodged the multi-ton metal monsters.

“Everypony okay?” I called out.

“I am fine,” Twilight said, “anypony else?”

“We’re good, Sugarcube,” AJ yelled, “cain’t say the same fer our foes.”

“I’m five-by-five,” Pinkie saluted.

“Present and accounted for, dahling,” Rarity said, “although I never knew you could do that!”

“It’s a little new to me, too,” I replied, “but let’s not knock it. Lyra, Bonnie?”

“We’re good,” Bon-Bon cried, “Lyra could be better…”

“I’m fine,” Lyra said, with little inflection in her voice, “somepony tried to grab my horn.”

“And you were brilliant,” Bonnie beamed, “what was that spell you used?”

“It’s-” Lyra began, some emotion now creeping in her voice, “it doesn’t matter.”

“Ly-” Bonnie began but her marefriend gave her a baleful look, so she stopped.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“We are here,” Princess Luna said, “Miss Longbow and Miss Whispers are fine.”

The two mares in question trotted out of Luna’s shadow, none the worse for wear.

“Oh, good,” I exhaled, “with all those bullets flying-”

“Let not down your guard, Sir Steven,” Luna cried, “the enemy comes to assail us again!”

“What?!”

My exclamation was punctuated by an APC, larger than the rest, plunging through the flames and veil. Or at least it looked like an APC-

“TANK!” I cried, though my bellow was washed out by the main cannon firing. My companions saw the round launching, long as a wagon wheel and about as round. Luna, Twilight, Rainbow, and Longbow took flight; Rarity was caught in Lyra’s teleport spell, which encapsulated Bonbon. Pinkie Pie, Applejack and myself dodged the blast, though I swear I saw Pinkie rolling a dodecahedron for initiative. Disord phased in and out of reality, the shell passing through his incorporeal form.

The tank rumbled on, it’s treads easily parting the flames and piercing the veil. A coaxial gun sitting aside the main gun let loose with a barrage of rounds. Again, my companions and I scrambled to evade the onslaught. I performed the shockwave jump again; it had little effect. The tank, as heavy as it was, was shifted back a foot or two, but the main gun trained itself on me, as did the co-ax, and both reported on my general location. I was not there; Mercury’s Alacrity had me running underneath the fire line of both weapons. Titan’s Boon gave me strength enough to smash into the forward armor of the beast. I put a dent in it, and managed to break a few bones in my hand, which was enough to cause some mild panic in the tank’s operators. One such soldier popped up from the top hatch and I met him with a water assisted kick. He ascended from the tank, over the veil and flaming barrier, and back into his fellows on the other side. A blast of magic struck the tank, and when I turned back to look, Twilight’s horn was smoking.

She followed up with a subsequent blast, aided in part by Luna’s arcane power and the tank was pushed back. Applejack, seeing the monstrous weapons platform stopped and being pushed back, ran up to the vehicle. I saw her and knew what she had planned. I outstretched my non-broken hand, gripped a forehoof when she proffered it, and swung her up onto the tank’s body, just under the cannon. She startled a little, as the beast lurched forward under the sustained attack of the two alacorns, reared back when her balance was reacquired, and bucked the main cannon. It bent with a screech, at an acute angle that prevented the weapon from firing. One of the troopers within saw this, exited the tank from the hatch, and aimed an automatic rifle at her.

To my surprise, Jackie didn’t so much as flinch, as she jumped up to the soldier, punched him with a forehoof, and then bucked him in the face. The sickening crack of his jaw reverberated throughout the arena; his weapon fell as he clutched his now broken mandible with both hands. Following suite, I joined Jackie on the top of the tank and threw a nasty left cross at him. He crumpled from the impact and fell back into the tank to swears and loud shouts. Using the last of Titans Boon’s power, I further bent the main cannon, and stomped on the coaxial gun, thus rendering the tank impotent. A final push, that required Jackie and I to evacuate the machine, and the alacorn’s arcane might pushed it past the veil once more.

“I’ll doubt they’ll try that again-” I started, before my words caught in my throat; another tank had roared in from behind. It’s coaxial gun roared, causing both ponies and myself to scramble once more. In my panicked evasion, I saw a butter yellow streak fly past. I had nary enough time to warn Fluttershy of the tank before the main gun fired. The explosion of the shell on the ground deafened me; I lost sight of much everything, my sight darkened. I was told later that I had fainted for a moment or two; I have no reason to disbelieve, for what I saw next is permanently etched onto my mind: Princess Luna and Fluttershy, lying atop one another, coats sooted and trickles of blood oozing from numerous lacerations along their bodies and from their ears.

And I was seized with fury…

I’m- not sure where the sword came from. I’m not sure where the red, red rage emerged. Something primal, born of mystical power and steeped in the fury of countless generations, flowed into me. I had become death, Destroyer of Worlds; my wrath was both terrible and awesome in scope. I wish I could forget all that I had done… but my recollection of that battle is flawless from that point on. While my body had been weakened by continuous combat, I now felt as if every nerve and sinew in my body was thoroughly alight with such righteous indignation as to make the Devil himself quake.

I rushed the tank, sword in hand, bellowing in my vengeance. The sword cleaved the tank in two; it had hardly touched the outer ceramic armor with it's tip before the machine split in twain. Two soldiers within were equally as cleaved; I could see their entrails spilling and blood spewing upon their fellows. The other troops within tried desperately to crawl away from my seething visage; they were not lucky enough to do so. Magic imbued within my muscles, I threw the pieces of the tank aside, leaving the enemy forces within to slump into the halves, before I brought them back together in a telekinetic sling, smashing the pieces into a small ball. None survived.

Two more tanks and six more APCs drive in, the ponies still in shock at both the condition of the Lunar Goddess and their friend as well as my now rampant state. I strode to the nearest tank, holding the sword aloft. Three quick swings and the tanks was shredded, all within sliced and diced within. Several troops disgorged from the nearby APCs lay witness to the desolation. They stood stock still, hoping that I would not see them. My dash to their transport included bringing my blade to bear, lightning arcing along my frame, at a velocity impossible to perform by the average human. Those troops standing in my path were rent in twain; I left none standing as I approached the carrier.

Jumping under the auspices of Zephyr’s Gift, I slashed at the cabin of carrier; the driver, passenger, and drive train of the vehicle, split in two. A magma enhanced kick and punch later, the rest of the APC was naught but molten slag, the screams of the soldiers inside falling on deaf ears. I am vengeance, I chanted, I am Equilibrium!

A burst of plasma from my hand had rendered three other APCs into mighty explosions; a second plasma blast melted the other tank and set the last of the APCs ablaze. A trooper who evaed my onslaught staggered from a burning carrier, still in flames; I rewarded him for tenacity by disemboweling him. For an added measure, I tore his spine from his body and ran it though what was left of his ruined torso. I am vengeance; I am Equilibrium!

In my rampage, I saw Dischord carry Fluttershy and Luna away from the battlefield in a teleport flash and return in the same instance, his face filled with menace. I had nearly forgotten that My Butterfly was a dear friend of his. He joined me in combat, his Chaotic Magic aiding my assault. We ravaged those that managed to get past the veil over the husks of the vehicles sent in. There was much decapitation, disemboweling, and quartering to be had. I am Death; come unto me and face your judgement!

I’m not sure when the heavy artillery made it past the veil, but the explosions caught neither Discord or myself off guard. Instead, our focus bent toward those troopers bearing mortar launchers and rocket launchers. Discord sent a wave, a literal wave, of swords against a squad of them; I, however met the artillery with a casting of Immolata, reducing the troopers to dust and their weapons to white hot slag. One trooper managed to get off a bazooka round off but as it passed near Discord, the personification of chaos merely caught the round and spun it towards me. I vanished it back at the bazooka wielding soldier, who was still reloading his weapon, in time to see him explode in a shower of ichor.

More troops began to pour into the arena and I was glad to see my pony friends had evacuated the scene; the battle now was only for us killers. I had a feeling, even in my fury, that I would get some rather disturbed reactions following this day to my presence. Those were wiped away when I saw a platoon of troops hell bent for leather towards the castle. A new spell came to mind, Consumption, and I cast it not knowing its effects. The troopers were within meters of the portcullis but never made it there; the spell hit them with a darkened, buzzing cloud. In seconds, the flesh from their bodies was eaten away. I could hear Discord laughing, in triumph or in revelry, I neither knew nor cared.

Seeing some of their fellows cut down so easily, more platoons made their way towards me, weapons drawn and firing. I easily deflected their shots using a combination of an accuracy jinx and an interdiction cantrip. I then lit them up with Illuminaria, a lightning spell. I’ve never liked the smell of burnt flesh, for I have some knowledge of what it smells like, but the sizzling sound and roiling odor of the troopers deaths was the finest thing I had ever experienced at the moment. The more troops that arrayed against me, the more inventive attacks I used to stop or kill them, mostly killing them.

Flames, wind, water, ice, earthen tremblors, jagged metal spires, erupting fissures of lava, tottering granite golems, bolts of lightning, searing acid rain, shearing tornados and blistering desert heat I threw at them. And when the enemy came too close, the sword in my hand lashed out, cleaving and rending bodies into pieces. Later on, Discord would relate that I was laughing all the while, on a maniacal high of mayhem and murder. I had no cause to doubt him either for I remembered it all, in sickening detail. AT one point, I acquired a piece of their ordinance, a curious rifle which loaded magazines in the back of the weapon. I using that as both a ballistic weapon and as a cudgel for foes too close to shoot at.

The more foes that emerged, the more often my spells were loosed, felling large groups of them. Hand That Mourns earlier lesson, about humans in number being riots, came to mind. I also thought ruefully that I was a one man riot myself. I was feeling eighteen feet tall and bulletproof, with sparks of magic and other powers scorching my nemesis’ forces it was no wonder I was experiencing those sensations. Later recounts of the battle had me grinning ear to ear, cackling madly. Indeed, I was afraid I was going mad, allowing all that arcane energy to course through me and strike at those that opposed me.

After a time, the troops stopped coming in teams. I had made the assumption that they had planned a withdrawal, but that assumption was turned to ashes as another squadron of tanks and APCs punched thru the veil. The turret of the tanks fired at us, the explosions of the shells casting a haze of gunsmoke across the battlefield. The fusillade of shells was followed immediately by machine gun fire, the staccato bursts of the guns rendering all other sound mute.There was a part of me that was thrilled they had unleashed this last desperate salvo. I was looking forward to witnessing their shocked faces when I emerged with my chaotic compatriot from the barrage with nary a scratch between us.

Indeed, when the smoke finally cleared, I heard several surprised gasps when neither Discord or myself appeared as anything less than hale and hearty. Although, as I looked upon Discord, he was started to look a little haggard, for reason that escaped me at the moment. My attention to his well being was disrupted when one of the tanks fired it's turret again. I stopped the shell from reaching us in a grip of telekinetic mastery that geeks the world over would scream “TETSUO!” in unison.

I displaced the shell to the other end of the battlefield so it smashed into another tank. It subsequently bloomed into a fireball, filling the air with shrapnel. Discord and I once again engaged the enemy, through Discord was moving much slower than earlier before. I myself was moving like I hadn’t since I was an elementary school student, slashing at a nearby APC and shouting “CONSUMPTION!” to all in my way. Several of the vehicles affected rusted to nothing on the spot, their occupants decaying to dust in an instant. I blocked several shots fired my way and returned many more back to their point of discharge. Watching a coaxial gun explode in a spray of steel and fire was very satisfying.

Some of the APCs had turrets on them, though smaller than those of the tanks, and those started firing on me. I danced between the shells they fired and sent some back to their owners. I saw one of the returned shells fly up back to it's discharging turret, impact a shell ready to fire, and the whole APC detonate loudly. It was glorious! The enemy tried spacing their fire, but I was reacting to them much faster than they hope to cope with. I flipped over two tanks with ease and smashed another APC like a soda can. At the time, I had no idea where all this new found power was coming from, but I reveled in it.

At this point, and to my utter astonishment, I saw several machines emerge through the veil, like something out of Aliens (Like the cargo loader Ellen Ripley used to fight the Xenomorph Queen.) blended with the mechs seen in Avatar. I had no idea such a thing existed, even though I had seen and read reports of similar automatons in recent news. Things like Asimov the Robot, and such things like exoskeletal frames for use by invalid seniors and disabled people. These were similar constructions, but bearing heavy weaponry which were all trained on me.

The reports of their guns was deafening enough and no soundproofing charm had kept the sound out. I staggered as my interdiction held fast against the barrage but had to quickly dodge an attack from my flank as one of the automations drew near with a combat knife the size of a Lincoln Navigator. I escaped the slash that one made but was nearly caught by another as it jumped (JUMPED?!) at me. The next attack I caught, although my magical enhancements were starting to wear off. I held onto the blade wielded by the mech and as I did so, I caught a face glaring at me from the perspex of the machine’s canopy. It Captain Norris, of all people!

His face was alight in malice, made even more gruesome and garish by the fluorescent lamps under lighting his features. He screamed, through in the cacophony of the battle around me, I could hardly hear a word he said. It was my last stand, with the mechs closing in all around and my friends holed up in the castle listening in on the frightful assault. With every last ounce of my arcane power I could muster, I cast one last spell, Ultima. I could feel the heat of the curse as it unleashed, the light it produced washing out features from the scene around me. In my head, I heard the cries of my enemies as the spell roared, disassembling their armor, weapons, and even their bodies at the subatomic level.

When the curse had done it’s work, the light and sound subsided, revealing an empty arena. Oh, the castle still stood, and those assembled within trotted out to see the conclusion. I heard them screaming, clamoring towards me as they exited; I was in no shape to tell, though, if their cries were of panic, derision, admonishment, or joy. The power I was feeling before was fading, my mind was lagging terribly. I couldn’t keep upright for very long and when I finally succumbed to my weariness and injuries (And I was pretty badly injured, too.) it was to welcome darkness, my old friend…

I spent an inordinate amount of time between fitful alertness and blank unconsciousness. I heard muted conversation as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I may have lain asleep for hours or even minutes, but I couldn’t tell. Time as a relative aspect of life was a concept I could not grasp in the state I was in. When I finally did awake, I felt like I was 127; I tried to get up and regretted doing so, for I then felt more like 1,027.

“He’s awake?!” Came somepony. I heard the rumble of many horseshoes before a single set scrambled forward and declared, “Back off! He’s my patient!”

I heard grumbling, including AJ pointedly telling the pony from before, a mare I think, that she was his fiancee. The pony, who my narrow and limited vision told me was Nurse Redheart, didn’t seem too concerned about that. She proceeded to put a flashlight to my eyes, making me wince (I was in something of a coma, I guess) then she whacked my elbow and knee with a hammer, which hurt and caused me to spasm. After checking my heartrate and prodding my mouth open with a tongue depressor, she declared, “All clear. You may approach, but one at a time!”

Slowly, I saw AJ approach, a hoof removing her hat.

“How you doin’, Sugarcube?” She asked.

“I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck- or got bucked in the chest by Big Mac,” I replied, “What happened? Where’s Luna and Fluttershy?”

“Flutters is fine,” AJ answered, a smile on her face, “she and The Princess were scraped up somethin’ awful, but yer ghosty friend had some halp patchin’ ‘em up. Right as rain they are now, though if’n Ah don’ tell Flutters yet awake, she gonna tan my hide, bless her.”

“I don’t think she’d do anything of the sort,” I said, “wait, she isn’t here?”

“She had to step out a bit,” AJ answered, “she’s been comin’ in every so often between takin’ care of ya and her critters-”

She stopped short of telling me how long I was out for.

“AJ,” I ask, “how long was I out for?”

My Apple Blossom doesn’t answer, but a nearby pony does, “Eight days.”

I know the voice of Twilight anywhere, but her answer still astounds me.

“Eight days?!”

I see AJ step aside while Twilight comes into my field of vision, “Yes, eight days. We-we were really worried about you. You saved our lives… I know Fluttershy has been beside herself with worry.”

“I can imagine,” I utter, as I try to sit up but I am brought back down by Redheart’s hoof. The look she gives me says I’m not going anywhere.

“Was- was anypony else hurt? I didn’t see Lyra, Bonbon, Whispers or Longbow after that shell exploded…”

“They’re fine,” Twilight says, “they went back to town. Lyra and Bonbon will be delighted to hear you’re awake again. Whispers and Longbow have been scouring the Everfree for more signs of the hoomans. No luck, fortunately.”

“Unfortunately,” Hand That Mourns added, “that also means that no means of transit has been found, as well. The Proletariat had discovered a means of coming here and in force. It is imperative that such a transit system to be taken offline, permanently.”

“Exactly,” Twilight agreed, “before more of those hoomans arrive and cause more destruction.”

“What about their vehicles?” I query, “the tanks, the carriers? Were there any clues left in them?”

A new voice adds itself to the crowd, “Not that we found, although after your spell, there were very few left to investigate.”

“I’m sure you did all you could, Spike,” Twilight assured, “these Proletariat ponies were thorough in covering their tracks.”

“Spike?” I inquire and as Twilight pulls back, a new being emerges in my sight, larger than I ever remember him being.

“Dude, wah-?”

“I think,” the now grown Spike says, “it was your magic. You were throwing spells left, right, and center. One of them, I think it might have been something to bolster our retreat, caused me to grow. My mind hasn’t completely caught up yet, but it’s only been more than a week. I’ll be fine.”

“My Spikey-wikey will,” Rarity said, sidling up to the now physically matured drake, “through your transformation is a lot less- traumatic than the last time, I can’t say I can argue with the results.”

“Stop it, Rarity, you’re going to make me blush,” Spike says, leaning down to kiss the fawning unicorn mare on her crown. Her muzzle glows a deep crimson to his affections.

“Not that it matters much,” Rainbow adds, “but the rest of us are fine, too.”

“I kinda figured, Dash,” I muse, “you still have your wings, I hope.”

“Eeyup!” The speedster quips, “lost some feathers in the fight, but nothing that would affect performance.”

“Good to hear,” I reply, “I’d hate to see you miss out on Wonderbolt glory.”

Dash beamed, completely missing my sarcasm, though,and given my current state, I doubt I could get much inflection in. I was also hurting that My Butterfly wasn’t here. She had a valid excuse but the heart wants what it wants. And right now, it wanted that little ball of sunshine that was Fluttershy. Some more discussion took place as I lay there. At length, Redheart brought me a glass of water to sip on. Seeing as I was comatose for eight days, I wasn’t at all surprised by how thirsty I was.

An hour after I awoke, Fluttershy zooms in, wrapping me in a breath stealing hug. I see tears in her eyes, I can hear her thanking Celestia, Luna, and practically every deity known to ponykind for my life. It’s both endearing and heartbreaking; as I look upon her further, I see some bandages on top of her coat, on wing is wrapped up tightly, and there is stitches over one eye. Otherwise, she is fine. Oh, God, the smell of her! I could drink that in by the barrelfull.

“Oh, Stevie, you had me so worried!” She cries in my ear.

“You had me worried, too, Butterfly,” I tell her, “flying into the battle like that. Are you okay? You look like you got scraped up a bit.”

“I’m okay,” Fluttershy said, “I was hurt when that- thing exploded, but I have had worse when addressing the wounds of my animal friends.”

I stare at my fiancee and said, “Dang Flutters, you are hard core!”

Her blushing cheeks and awkward grin tell me plenty she’s taking my words as a compliment.

“She is not the only one who is ‘hard core,’ as you put it.”

Fluttershy moved aside, her tears slowing but still evident and who should move into my view but Princess Luna.

“You showed yourself a valiant knight, Sir Steven,” the Lunar Goddess said, “although your actions have some rather dire implications. You did manage to save my life and the lives of others. For that, you have my eternal gratitude.”

“You’re welcome, Blue,” I said, “I was- concerned when that shell blew. I almost thought you were dead. Just how close did it come to hitting you?”

“Too close,” Luna answers, “I had a shield up in time, but it was so quick and powerful, it nearly rendered my shield moot. I do not remember hoomans possessing weaponry of this kind.”

“The last time you saw them on this planet, they didn’t,” I reply, “they aren’t new, though. Back home, they’ve had ‘em for a few centuries. The Empire used to have ‘em, but they were discarded in favor of directed energy ordinance. Still, those tanks are dangerous. I hope to never see things like that again.”

“Indeed,” Blue said, “by the way, methinks this is yours.”

In her aura, Luna brings forth a black, lacquered scabbard. She brings it to me and the reaction of the other ponies is immediate. They are deathly afraid of what’s in this thing. I clutch when it comes close enough; I pull on the hilt of the sword to see a finely crafted katana. This is strange, because the last time I saw this sword, it was clearly a rapier of some kind. Did it change somehow while I was out? Did Luna do something to it?

“What gives?” I ask, “This was a rapier before…”

“We- I mean, I am uncertain,” Luna answers, “I have some- vague recollection of you wielding a rapier like weapon. When I recovered from my injuries, it was now in the form you see before you.”

“Huh,” I wonder, “hey, where’s Discord? He would would have seen the sword I used before.”

“He’s recovering,” Fluttershy said, “he was really wiped out from the fighting. He said he’s never been so drained before.”

“Drained?”

“Surely you would have seen it, dahling,” Rarity answered, “the poor dear… I may not be a fan of his antics, but when he pulled us from the field, he was so haggard. It was like his life force was- sucked right out of him!”

“He did look exhausted,” Spike added, “the longer he was fighting, the more and more it looked like he was expending himself. And this from a guy who turned Ponyville into his own personal playground.”

“Spike!” Fluttershy admonished.

“I know, I know,” the drake relented, “we don’t talk about past misdeeds. I was just saying.”

“You know,” I remarked, “I did notice that he was looking more and more exhausted after he brought Fluttershy and Blue to the castle. He was progressively getting more and more tired the longer he was fighting- along side me.”

“Sir Steven?” Luna asked.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute- If what Hand told me is true,” I began, “then- You see, humans, we don’t have a mana reserve…”

“Which is strange,” Twilight added, “because you’ve been using a lot of magic before and yet I’ve never seen you exhaust your mana supply before.”

“Would help if I had one,” I say, “something else Hand said, or at least theorized, was that human mages siphoned their mana from their environment. So, if I was slinging magic all during the battle-?”

“Then-” Fluttershy began, “you- you should had a source for it, right?”

I nod, “Now this begs the question of why I was in a coma for the last eight days.”

“I believe I can answer that,” Hand That Mourns calls out, “I have managed to ‘pierce the veil,’ as it were and discovered some rather interesting things about the workings of House Endymion.”

“Hand?” I ask, “Did you just acquire some mad hacking skills?”

“I am uncertain of what you mean,” Hand answered, “but, during my researches, I had uncovered some hidden protocols that would allow me to remove any redaction of files. Mind you, there are several googleplexes worth of data I have yet to mine, but some of the things I have uncovered are concerning your- rehabilitation.”

“Well, Hand, don’t leave me in suspense,” I state, “lay it on me.”

“Of course, Archmage,” Hand says, “according to what data I was able to recover, the vast sum of which is still in the recovery process, I have determined that what you suffered from a condition known as ‘magic poisoning.’”

“Magic poisoning?” I query, “That- doesn’t sound fun. Can you explain further?”

“Indeed,” Hand continues, “according to notes published by Archmage Soledad, magic poisoning is the result of a mage leaning too heavily on side of the arcane scale. In her example, she had fostered an ever increasing dependence on harmonious energy and thus, her body was unable to keep itself in proper equilibrium.”

“And equilibrium is necessary,” I reply, “to being the Key Arcane. The Archmage is as much the keeper of magical lore as they are the fulcrum of all magical prowess in the Empire. Without it…”

Hand finishes that thought for me, “Equilibrium falters and as a result, the Empire begins to stagnate and fail.”

“So, no pressure,” I quip.

Hand gives me a look that suggests I should keep my mouth shut.

“So,” I follow, “how do I prevent another bout of magic poisoning? Is there a device or a wearable meter I need to have on me, pacemaker style?”

“Yes,” Hand replies, simply, “look to your shoulder.”

I do and sitting there is a curious emblem. The emblem takes the shape of a crescent moon, overlapped by a waning moon, on top of which there is a four point star. The star is goldenrod in color, the waning moon is white where it isn’t shaded, but the crescent moon is what grabs my attention. The memories of my predecessors tell me that the crescent moon should be white in color, like bright platinum, but what I see is the crescent partially colored in with pure gold.

“Is that- supposed to happen?” I ask.

“Curious,” Twilight says as she nears me, “I hadn’t really noticed that after you- went under, but now that I look at it, I swear I could have seen more gold in the crescent.”

“She’s right,” Flutters remarks, “when you were first brought in, that crescent was all gold. Now only a little remains.”

I take all this in while Archmage Soledad explains why she embedded the Sigil of House Endymion into the Archmage’s robes and what it means when the sigil changes colors.

“Okay, I think I understand now,” I say, “the sigil, not just the crescent moon, is an indication of my arane displacement; too much harmony or chaos and I can really make myself seriously sick. If I’m too chaotic or orderly, my equilibrium gets thrown off and it can disrupt my magic- And because I am now a being of almost absolute arcane energy, if my magic gets disrupted, I can- end.”

Several gasps fill the room, but the most heart wrenching are those of Applejack and Fluttershy. Even though I’m still in a haze and most of my cognitive functionality hasn’t quite returned to nominal, I find it rather curious that Luna’s expression is the most horrific of all my friends here. An inquiry for another day, for sure, although it astounds me that she would react this way. We are friends, granted, but, could she be harboring some other emotion? My emotional illiteracy is going to be the death of me yet…

Mind you, that doesn’t stop me from accepting a veritable wall of fur in the form of hugs. The warmth of this love and affection is- is very touching. On any other day, I wouldn’t know how to respond to this, especially since it’s such a physical display. Now, I just hug back with whomever I can reach. I- I don’t want to risk putting my friends though this sort of heartache again…

“AHEM!”

Nurse Redheart’s throat clearing broke up the fur pile, and sent those who weren’t biblically familiar with me to scatter. The good nurse set to taking my temperature, got a bead on my resting heart rate, checked my once shot reflexes (surprise, they have made an excellent comeback since landing here, even in the prosthetic leg,) check my retinal response, and have me perform a minor stress test to see if my body was recovering well from my ordeal. When it was all over, Nurse Redheart declared I was fit as a fiddle, with only some mild stress fractures in my hand which struck the tank. Apparently, my magic was healing those off as I was fighting, though that could have been the massive adrenal dump I took during the fight, too.

I was let go of my own recognizance, much to Jackie’s and Flutter’s delight. They lead my home as the rest of the group broke off her their homes, save for Princess Luna, who wanted to speak to me about something. As her dear friend, I guess this was to be expected. We had nearly died in the midst of that battle and yet, here we were, a medium set of lumps to show for all that effort. Not that I would ever get involved in a brouhaha like that again. I prefer having all of my precious lifeblood within me, not without. In any case, the Lunar regent followed us along as we returned to Sweet Apple Acres and The Wolf Den. I was really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.

“AH sure am glad yer all bet’r now,” Jackie explained, “Flutters and Ah were plum loco not knowin’ when you were gonna get up!”

Fluttershy added, “My critters were worried; they had never seen me that depressed before, well, except for that time I turned mean after that lecture form Iron Will.”

“Remind that I have to meet that guy,” I told My Butterfly, “I have to thank him for making you more assertive and beat the crap out of him for making you doubt yourself.”

Fluttershy grinned while shaking her head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Really, I don’t think I can right now,” I honestly answered, “I’m sore all over. It’s like a locomotive smashed into me at full speed, minus the lethal damage. Methinks that’ll be the last major fight I’ll be involved in.”

“Nev’r say nev’r,” Applejack quipped, “ya’ll ain’t seein’ inta the future none, so ya’ll cain’t say fer sure.”

“I guess you’re right, Jackie,” I replied, “ugh, not that I want to get mixed up in another fight; magic or no, combat takes a lot out of a body. Especially my body!”

“We could help with that, couldn’t we, Jackie?” Fluttershy opines.

“We sure could!” AJ exclaims with a devilish grin.

“I dunno girls,” I say, “after this whole ordeal, I’m mighty wrecked.”

“Oh, dontcha worry one,” Jackie replies, “we gonna take care of ya rightly.”

“I do believe that will be my cue to leave,” Princess Luna adds, “but first, if I may, would it be alright if I borrowed your fiancee for a moment?”

“Uh, sure,” Flutters says, to which Jackie adds, “so long as ya don’t break ‘im.”

“I shan’t” Luna replies, then she turns to me, “let us walk awhile.”

I nod and follow Luna. It’s a relatively short amble down a unused lane that runs parallel to Sweet Apple Acres, but it’s far enough off the more trafficked routes to where we’ll be unheard. It’s a perfect stretch of road for a private conversation or for an ambush. With Luna, I can never be sure if it’s one or the other. So I wait for her to start.

“My sister,” she begins, “she will have questions about what has happened.”

“No doubt,” I rejoinder, “a major assault made in her own realm while her co-ruler assists in driving back the unwashed hordes must a mighty big pill to swallow. I expect she has plenty to inquire of me and lot’s of blame to throw around, too.”

“Indeed,” Luna responds, “and I will do my best to deflect as much of the blame as possible.”

“Why?” I ask, “this was between me and the Proletariat. Those traitors were trying to disappear me and were more than willing to kill anyone or anypony that stood in their way. I did what I had to do to protect everypony. I didn’t like doing it but…”

“I understand,” Luna says, then she comes closer, “but I doubt my sister will. She does not trust you, even more so since the Grand Galloping Gala. She and humanity have- issues, as the common pony says nowadays.”

“Is that why every potential mention of humanity or the Terran Empire has been redacted through Equestrian Literature?”

Luna nods, “She has removed as much of humanity’s presence here in Equestria and beyond as she could. There was a time, as she explained it to me, that she would expel any student in her school for even asking about humans.”

“Damn,” I murmur, “did Sunset Shimmer get the same treatment?”

“Neigh, she did not,” Luna replies, “her- expulsion, as it were, was for an altogether more sinister reason.”

“What, she ate the last of Celestia’s cakes?” I joke.

Luna laughs very heartily; after the events of a week ago, a laugh was needed. When she finally brings herself to quiet tittering, she answers my question with all seriousness.

“Neigh, Sunset’s crime was far more dire. She usurped the power of the Alicorns and attempted to overthrow my sister from power.”

I’m shocked to hear such a thing…

“Whoa,” I blurt out, “you mean to tell me she ran an unsuccessful coup against Celestia?!”

Luna nods, “She did. Her penance has been partially served; she now is under the tutelage of young Twilight. My sister believes that that mare will prove an effective foil for Sunset’s ambitions.”

“One can only hope,” I say, then, “but Sunset knows an awful lot about The Terran Empire. She told me so herself. And I know she can saw ‘human’ properly but she mispronounces it on purpose to get dicks up.”

“You’re joking,” Luna states before seeing my ‘serious’d’ face, “you are not joking. Hmm. That is somewhat troubling… Lieutenant Heartstrings has always held a fascination for humanity but she has always been one on the fringe even if she has been right about the Crown suppressing about humanity. It took me forever to get Tia to condescend to allow any articles written about you to published.”

“It was bound to get out, anyway, right?”

Luna’s nod confirms my guess, “In any case, she works under the assumption that you are here to bring about disaster. Nothing her student, her friends, or even myself has said will convince her otherwise.”

“I see,” I murmur, “when do you think she’ll send for me?”

“I do not know,” Luna admits, “but I will delay her as best I can. Until then, do I have your word you will not seeking trouble?”

“You have it, yes,” I reply, “but if trouble happens to find me, I bear no responsibility for what happens.”

“Agreed,” Luna says, “given that your domicile is in Ponyville, trouble is bound to come up every once in awhile. I would not hold that against you; just do not seek out danger.”

“Given what I just went through,” I respond, “I have had enough risk and toil for one lifetime. I’m going to spend some downtime getting myself back to 100% and then after that, I’m going to treat my mares.”

Beaming, Luna replies, “That sounds like an excellent idea! I would join you, but alas, I have duties to fulfill in Canterlot and my sister would have my flank if I didn’t report in on time.”

I start a little from the way she says this, “You’d like to join in with us?”

A look of surprise crosses Luna’s face before she says, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t think that through- What I meant was, I would love to join you, Fluttershy, and Applejack on an outing. Just friends, having fun! How is it the commoners say it? ‘Decompressing?’”

I nod, “Yeah, that might be fun. Someday soon, when we don’t have world threatening events to worry about.”

“I shall consider that an open invitation,” Luna retorts with a broad smile, then, “well, I shall be off. I do hope your rest is very- invigorating.”

“Oh, I have high hopes for that, Blue,” I reply, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“At that, you shall,” Luna says before nuzzling me, “farewell, friend Steven.”

And with that, Luna takes to the sky. I watch for a few moments, as her beautiful coat and mane turn to coal black into the distance. She has halfway to Canterlot before I lose sight of her in the sun. When I do lose her, I turn back to the road and make my way towards Sweet Apple Acres; en route, I’m intercepted by Flutters and AJ, who were looking for me.

“Oh, there you are!” Fluttershy exclaims, “I told you he was okay.”

“Ah, shucks, Sugarcube,” AJ mutters, “here Ah was thinkin’ Princess Luna was givin’ ya a ear rakin’, headsplittin’ lecture.”

“No, it was nothing that bad,” I report, “Luna just wanted to discuss what she was going to tell her sister. Apparently, Celestia wants a full report about everything that has happened, including anything I have done, and from what I’ve gathered, Blue has been running interference until I was conscious again.”

“That- don’t sound like any princess Ah know,” Jackie replied, “why Princess Luna do that?”

“Search me,” I responded, “but she also informed me that Celestia is out for my hide. Apparently she has a mad on about humans and as such is watching like a hawk. I have an idea that some of Ponyville’s newest residents are here to keep tabs on me exclusively.”

“That don’t seem right,” AJ retorted, “but Ah have seen an influx in ponies here in town. DO you think?”

“I don’t know,” Fluttershy said, “we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“I agree.” I add, “until more concrete evidence comes to light, we’ll work under the assumption that Ponyville’s is because of it’s charm and and the friendly neighborhood ponies.”

“Ah’ll drink to that,” AJ comments, “so, what say we git on home and start gettin’ to relaxin’?”

“Tally ho!”

From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 111:

We didn’t get into sexy times as much as Flutters and AJ wanted to with me. After getting home, and grabbing a bath, I conked out while still laying in the tub. The mares had to drag me out, so I was told later, and put me to bed. They didn’t think to put me back into my clothes, so I woke up the next day cold and naked. It is not a state I prefer or recommend.
One of the many less than desirable aspects of magic poisoning I discovered is a weakened constitution. A day after returning home, I caught the nastiest cold. It’s probably best I don’t regale with my condition at that time. (And I sure as Hell am not going to recite for you.) IN any case, it was the most miserable and longest cold I’ve ever fought off.
Jackie and Fluttershy were by my side during that infection, being more solicitous than usual. I guess after the coma and now this cold, they wanted to be sure I was back in perfect health. Jackie would bring in her choicest pick of apples and bake me the tastiest of apple pies. I was like being back home with my mom all over again. The apple farmer would have warm apple cider for my every meal; she even designated herself as my physical therapist, working my limbs over while I recuperated. (And I thought my body was sore during workouts before!)
Fluttershy would tuck me in tight with thicken, woolen blankets, feed me soup (I don’t like soup much but whatever she made was pretty damn good, ) she would give me sponge baths, and groom me down, even though I was still strong enough to do so for myself. She would sing me to sleep every night and sing me awake every morning while I was sick. That ugly little part of my brain that was telling me I was hallucinating whilst in a coma was coming back in force; Fluttershy’s ministrations reminded me of times when my mom would tend to me while I was fraught with bronchitis or pneumonia.
Even creepier than that was this idea that I was undergoing some bizarre oedipus complex hallucination, where Flutters and Jackie were stand ins for my mother. The less said about that, the better. The very last thing I wanted was some pastel colored Total Recall event (the 1990 movie, not the superior 2012 version)to play out. Although, given how much local opposition I was facing, I had my doubts such a thing would ever happen. Never say never, though…
I did get over my cold eventually, but my magic was slow to return. This is what I discovered was the “burn out” phase of magic poisoning recovery. It came to my understanding that my body, up until now, was enhancing my nominal immunity response to pathogens and bacteria but now that I had overdid, arcane wise, I was now in a state of “normal.” What that meant was I was back to the way I was before coming here. I was powerless, weak, a highly susceptible to injury and illness. (The cold I got shortly afterward being evidence to that.)
Now I had to slowly rebuild my arcane equilibrium so that I could begin casting again. You may wonder why I had to do that. Well, as it turns out, Terran Imperial citizens are, well, they cannot exist without their inherent magic. From my observations, Imperial citizens life force runs exclusively on arcane energies and when such energies are disrupted or nullified, it can result in death. That was why I slipped into a coma; my body now doesn’t know how to function with a lack of magic prowess. That would be bad news if I ever have another bout of magic poisoning, which is why I intend to never get that far out of balance again.
Now, I don’t know if this explains the abundance of magical abilities of the Equestrians, but I am getting the distinct notion that is why the Proletariat had such disdain for them. That house may have had it's fair share of xenophobia and spite, but I also think they were jealous of the Equestrians natural inclination for thaumaturgy. If what I’ve read from the Imperial Ecumene is correct, especially the redacted parts Hand was able to recover, then House Proletariat lacked the sort of arcane abilities the rest of the Empire had. According to an ancient codex file hidden in the depths of The Ecumene, The Proletariat were exclusively, via their genetics, cursed with an inclination to Chaos. No other Imperial House had that.
This adds a new worry for me. If the Proletariat were as sufficiently proficient in technology as the other Houses, then they may seek to correct their arcane flaw through artificial means. And the ponies would be an excellent source material for such experiments! Once I had this realization, I wrote to Luna about it. I detailed all that I gathered concerning the Proletariat and some of my findings in regards to the earlier incursion of Proletariat troops. I hope this scenario never comes to pass, but I don’t believe my arch-nemeses will give up so easy.

The Canterlot Palace:

Fall had come to Canterlot with a brisk, chill wind. The Canterlot Weather Patrol had been busy with autumn preparations and were now implementing them throughout the city. Citizens of the mountainside city had already accustomed themselves to the autumnal winds and temperatures, as well as wearing seasonal accoutrements that defended against the cold. Being built into a mountain, Canterlot got colder much quicker than rest of Equestria, which is why their weather teams went last to gather snow clouds form the weather factory based in Cloudsdale.

Princess Luna didn’t mind this, though. She was perfectly suited to the cold air and chilly nights. And the lengthening of eventide meant she could play more with the stars and showcase her fabulous moon. She already had a schedule planned out for the various constellations in her night sky and had sent them for approval with the Equestrian Astronomical Society, the Royal Equestrian Navy, the Equestrian Merchant Marines, the Star Gazing Clubs of every major city and town in the kingdom and her own sister.

It had been nearly a month since the Battle of The Castle of The Royal Pony Sisters, or The Human Incident, as Tia would often call it, but even though the trauma of it all was still fresh, Luna could not help but feel playful as the Winter Equinox approached. The Lunar Regent had, as promised, did everything in considerable power to steer her sisters numerous inquiries away from that battle and the lone human’s performance during it. Luna knew it would not stop her sister form asking, but it was a delay tactic she was using until such time as she could properly process all that had happened.

Now, it seemed, that Luna’s stalling had come to an end. Celestia had commissioned an inquiry into the battle and while many of the staffers in the inquiry here able to provide varied and unique responses to Tia’s questions, they had not satisfactorily quelled her curiosity in the matter. So now, with a heavy heart and a yearning not to lie to her elder sister, Luna entered into the especially appointed inquiry chambers and faced down her sister and her quizzical panel.

As she stepped through the double doors of the chamber, she heard her sister speak.

“And now we will hear from an eyewitness to the events that unfolded on August 18th of this year which are the primary focus of this inquiry about the Human Incident: my sister, Princess Luna.”

The regal sisters exchanged a glance as the one in the judge’s seat watched the one who bore witness take her place at the podium. It was a position Luna was familiar with, albeit form the other perspective, but she was resigned to deal with this now instead of delaying the inevitable. She took to the lectern and faced the panel. An older stallion with a balding pate lead the inquiry and brought all others to attention. Luna had seen this stallion before; his name was Echoing Gavels and his reputation proceeded, even in his advanced age.

Echoing Gavels proclaimed, “For the purposes of this inquiry, and for the records of The Crown Princesses, would you state your name and titles, please?”

Luna nodded and said, “I am Princess Luna, younger sister of Princess Celestia, Co-Regent of Equestria, Bearer of the Moon, Daughter of Queen Astraeus and sired by King Eos.”

“Thank you very much,” Gavels stated, “for the panel’s records, where you or where you not involved in the events that this panel is currently investigating?”

“I was,” Luna answered.

“And for the record, were you witness to the alleged combat that place?”

“I did,” Luna replied, “though, if the panel will forgive me, there was no ‘allegedly’ about this- incident.”

“So forgiven,” Gavels stated, “I now open the panel for questioning.”

“Your Highness,” spoke a grizzled Royal Guard officer that Luna recognized as Lieutenant Bright Steel, “in the event in question, was the being known as Sir Steven Edwin Ambrose, of the Terran Empire involved?”

“Indeed he was,” Luna answered, “and I may say, he would requite himself will by your standards, Lieutenant.”

A noblemare with a dusty rose mane and wearing a sheath of lime green spoke next, “You Majesty, in your own words, was the being Steven Edwin Ambrose ever hostile to any of the ponies present during the incident.”

“Neigh, he was not,” Luna replied, “if anything, he was very protective of all those present with him. I dare say he was resigned to dutifully defend us all, even those of us here in Canterlot who were not involved in the fight at all.”

Another mare, this time with a seafoam mane and a heavy shawl of pearl spoke, “Now did or did not this hooman engage in violence the likes of which has not been seen since the days of The Old Wars? It is my understanding that he fought and terminated many of his own kind.”

“Yes that is true-” Luna began but the mare brought another question to bare, “So it is also true that, during the summer, he was involved in an earlier bout of violence that terminated some twenty of his fellow species? And that he displayed murderous tendencies which no sane pony would ever bear?”

“That- is also true,” Luna admitted.

“So, if all this is true,” a younger stallion in a turtleneck sweater asked, “then why is allowed to roam free in our lands?”

“Because there is nowhere else for him to go,” Luna stated angrily before regaining her self control, “I understand that he seems a rather contentious sort, but these bouts of violence are not against the ponies he has for neighbors. He is a taxpayer, and as far as the constables of Ponyville where he resides are concerned, he is a sane and law abiding citizen…”

“Who was, according a report by those same constables, involved in a brawl with a stallion wherein he deftly trounced said stallion in a street fight," declaimed a middle aged stallion.

“It is my understanding that Sir Steven was defending a local mare’s honor,” Luna retorted, “it is customary, form where he is from to do so.”

“How odd,” a mare in her late teens quipped, “and yet oddly romantic.”

“Dusky Quill, you have no need for your commentary, please,” Gavels stated, “excuse the personal statements, Your Highness.”

“There is no offense,” Luna replied, “I, too, share that sentiment.”

“Ahem,” Gavels cleared his throat, “back to our inquiry. Princess Luna, has there been any other instances where this hooman has given proof that he has belligerent tendencies?”

“As my understanding is concerned,” Luna states, “he is not.”

“Then maybe you can explain,” Gavels went on, “why Sir Steven has been involved in two, I repeat, two mass murder sprees?”

Luna moaned internally, shutting her eyes to the pressure of a migraine coming on and answered, “It is my understanding that Sir Steven suffers from an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. I have seen it first hand and reports from my sister's, that is Princess Celestia’s, Overwatch Squad, tell me he sees it as his duty to turn back those that would threaten those he considers his friends.”

There was a general murmur among the panelist, some expressing disbelief that a hooman would seek to protect beings that weren’t of their own species. There were others that were quizzical about the human’s actions, wondering openly why the Terran Imperial Archmage would think it had a duty to protect a pony village like Ponyville. Gavels, on the other hand, is showing no opinion whatsoever. Luna knew that the stallion was impartial in everything he did; it was one of the reasons Celestia chose him to lead this inquiry.

“That is rather surprising to hear,” Gavel spoke, instantly quieting the other panelists, “as we all know, the dragons care nothing for one another, the Diamond Dogs show only the smallest degree of loyalty to their packs. Otherwise, most Diamond Dogs simply wander the world alone. Changelings are hive species, so they know cooperation, if only to achieve a goal; rarely do those bugs gather to defend each other from threats unless their queen commands it.

“The zebra, ibex, buffalo, and cows will cooperate in mutual defense; of this we know from observation and written accounts. And yet, nearly every record that exists in the Equestrian Royal Archives shows there has never been any one species will defend another, nor is there any evidence that suggests that any hooman would willingly do so. My question to, Your Grace, is why would the archmage of a hooman nation defend beings that are not his own.”

Luna thought on this for a moment, answering, “I know not what stirred Sir Steven to rise against this threat from his own fellows although, as it was relayed to me by young Princess Twilight, Sir Steven is engaged to a pair of Ponyville’s residents.”

More murmuring broke out and this time, instead of Echoing Gave;s silencing the panel, it was a mare on the far end that Luna had not heard from yet. With a dusty grey mane and a dusky coat of orange, Luna was certain this was Madam Verdant Roan, a major player and matriarch of the influential House Roan in Cloudsdale. She in turn was flanked by a ledrfladder mare whose cutie mark she recognized at once. The mare, whose name she knew as Umbra, was from House Shywing and if she wasn’t the matron of that clan, then Luna herself was Mare Do Well.

“Engaged?” Madam Roan asked vehemently, “I know that is common in this day and age for ponies to mate with and marry non-ponies, but a hooman? And to whom is he engaged with?”

“I do believe,” Luna answered, “that Sir Steven is engaged to a Miss Jacqueline Apple and the Apple Family…”

“How suitable,” Madam Roan tittered, “an ape settling with a clop hopper-”

“Madam Roan,” Gavels spoke, “it is wise not to bring tribalism to this panel. I was assured you would remain objective and keep your- atavistic tendencies to yourself.”

Madam Roan looked to argue, but was stayed Umbra Shywing, who was next to speak.

“It is my understanding, Dear Lady, that he is also engaged to a Pegasus mare as well?”

“‘Tis true, Colonel Shywing,” Luna stated, using the Elder Shywing’s proper title, “and I believe you may be acquainted with this young mare. A Fluttering Shywing?”

“Wha-” The Colonel stammered, “You can’t mean- Fluttershy?”

Luna nodded, “She was the first to court him.”

Madam Roan stifles her tittering behind a wing, but the look she gets from the Colonel is enough to stop her mirth. The glare Umbra levels is the kind that sends shivers through the spine; she believes this is this the same technique her granddaughter uses on animals, albeit with much different effect. Madam Roan still looks like she’s on the verge of erupting into peals of laughter but a slap on her flank by a leathery wing changes her attitude for her.

“My darling Flutters,” Colonel Shywing begins, “does- To you knowledge, Great Lady, does he treat her well?”

“Colonel Shywing, may I remind you that this panel is the investigation of the so called ‘hooman incident,’” Gavels rebukes, “it is not a gossip circle.”

“Gavels, you twit,” the Colonel started before Luna cut in, “You need not worry, Colonel. Your granddaughter is in excellent hooves, so to speak. Methinks that, should you feel inclined, a visit is in order to your granddaughter.”

Colonel Shywing nodded, the hint of tears forming in her eyes.

“If I may add to my previous statement?” Luna asked.

“In regards to what?” Gavel questioned.

“In regards as to why Sir Steven defended those who were to his species against those that were,” Luna answered.

“You may proceed,” Gavels replied.

“Thank you,” Luna begins, "Sir Steven’s people are rather sociable race, from what I have gathered and as such need as much social interaction as we ponies do. They may not be as comfortable with physical displays of camaraderie or share the common body language of your average Equestrian, yet they do have an innate desire for companionship. This may be conjecture on my part, but I do believe that Sir Steven was acting in part to protect his friends. Isn’t that what has founded this kingdom, friendship?”

“Agreed,” Celestia finally spoke, to which Gavels stated, “the panel recognizes Her Excellency-” that phrase caused Luna to wince, “Regent of the Sun, Princess Celestia.”

“Thank you, Gavel,” Celestia pronounced, “and thank you, Sister, for coming here today.”

“You are welcome,” Luna said, trying to avoid sounding indignant, “‘twas important that I come today.”

“Indeed,” Celestia conceded, “even so, you have avoided this panel before.”

“I had need of certain assurances in regard to this inquiry,” Luna stated, “given the nature of the panel, I did want to be sure not to misrepresent those of whom I was sure such testimony was already provided or has yet to be provided.”

“A wise policy,” Celestia noted, “bearing that, I would ask you, not just as your sister but as your fellow regent, how do you reconcile Sir Steven’s violent actions in Ponyville and at our former keep with his being a good citizen? In reality, he is not an Equestrian or even an immigrant to Equestria; he is a foreign national who has shown a propensity for belligerence. Is this not enough evidence to warrant further investigation and/or a constant vigil put in place to keep him out of trouble?”

Luna mused over that for a few moments, making many in the panel quiver in anticipation at what the Lunar Goddess was about to say. In all honesty, Princess Luna had given that same question very many hours of scrutiny and thought. Sir Steven, seen in a certain light, could be misconstrued as a murderous sociopath who has played a part a means to get close to their subjects. He has a proven ability to cause massive damage and has access to very powerful technology and weapons, the likes of which Equestria has never seen in more than twenty-five millennium.

Yet, she felt a kindred spirit in the human, one born of hardship, fouled by grief. In ways she had chosen to ignore before, she and the human Archmage were very alike in that respect. Horrible reputations proceded them both, yet they powered through, standing tall in the face of adversity. She had much respect for his mind and well as his soul. And a deeper part of her thought he had a nice, supple flank. She had never seen a male with such a flank before, usually equating it to some of the noblemares and courtiers that haunted the castle (and her sister, too.) Sir Steven was something more than what he allowed most ponies to see. But how to address that to this panel… She thought.

“I will concede that Sir Steven has shown prowess in the art of combat,” Luna explained, “and his abilities could make him a liability to the peace of Our Subjects. Yet, what most ponies have never known of him, and I count myself as one of the few that do know, is that Steven is a very kindly soul. As a wise mare once said, ‘The loneliest hearts are the kindest souls.’ Even as much as Our former Element of Kindness, Sir Steven has little ill will to anypony he meets. There may be some that earn his ire and I will agree that he has a temper and is troubled with a lack of impulse control.

“That said, you will never find a more caring being than Sir Steven, in my honest opinion. He has helped around the village of Ponyville as often as he has the time to spare and he as is gregarious as any of the townsfolk are. And yes, he can be profane, ill-tempered, pessimistic, and sarcastic, but behind these facades is a soul who has sought desperately his entire life to belong in his society and such a desperate search has extended even to here. Because of such a forlorn yearning, he has gone out of his way to become as much a citizen of Equestria as he is a part of the Terran Empire. One could even say he and I are kindred in these respects.

“I know, from exhaustive census records that I have poured over as part of my ‘rehabilitation’ into modern society, that Equestria is now no longer a nation whose populace is purely Equine. We have Gryphons, Minotaurs, Cow, Buffalo, and even a few Zebras living in our nation as citizens of the realm. Yea, even so, none have demonstrated the sort of resolve or civic duty to serve their individual metropolitans, at least as far as current records have ascribed, as Sir Steven. I daresay, if he were to be present during an assassination attempt of either myself or mine sister, he would do everything in his formidable power to thwart it. It is how he thinks and it is how he acts. Praytell you find somepony as vigilant.”

“So, if I am hearing this correctly,” Madam Roan asked, “you are of the belief that Sir Steven will be a benefit to Equiniti?”

“Yea, verily,” Luna replied, “if I were to borrow from one of the earliest cults founded during Equestria’s infancy, one could say Sir Steven is a ‘test from Faust.’”

“Such blaspheme,” another mare on the panel said, but Luna saw Gavels and her sister nod in approval.

“Your Grace,” Colonel Umbra stated, “according to your report, these other hoomans were armed. With what were they armed, swords, spears, staves, maces?”

Luna shook her head, “Neigh, they were armed with rifles,” and when the general murmur of confusion began, “Luna lit her horn, opening a pathway to her personal pocket dimension and removed therein one of the weapons scavenged from the enemy humans, “one of these,” Luna said, while pointing a hoof at the weapon held in her magic, “Sir Steven referred to these as ‘assault rifles’ and assault they can. One pull of the trigger is enough to spit lead projectiles at a target. I had seen these in use during the battle and the devastation wrought form them is terrible. This is the only one to have survived combat, and only because Sir Steven was in use of it. The humans sent after him-”

“Wait,” Gavels interjected, “the other hoomans were after him?”

“Yes,” Luna acknowledged, “they had come seeking him. There 25,000 of them each equipped with weapons such as this. I believe my sister will attest that the means and manner of their infiltration have yet to be detected. And the artificial being working in conjunction with Sir Steven has yet to determine who they assailed us that day. ‘Tis a mystery most perplexing.”

A new murmur emerged from the panelists, one filled with alarm. Several of the mares on the panel looked frightened by this news. Powerful, highly advanced weapons, hordes of enemies, ingress/egress too difficult to detect or track, all for the sake of one being? And this same being being hunted thwarted their plans and rent them asunder? What strange and horrible tidings these are!

“Sister,” Celestia spoke, silencing the panel immediately, “is it possible that these same intruders can come again? Might they make another play on Sir Steven?”

“I do not know,” Luna admitted, “given that the first team sent is in the aether, so to speak, it is unknown if more will come or some new stratagem will be employed at a later date.”

“Most worrisome,” Celestia commented, “and sister? Could you put that away? I don’t know how you can be so comfortable with such a thing, given the present climate.”

The rifle slipped dimensions back into Luna's private stronghold. She would retrieve it later at Steven’s behest, so he could disarm it. It had already been analyzed and Hand That Mourns had devised a manufacturing facility to replicate another and more besides. Steven had taken an interest in meeting “force for force,” and as such, he had given his ancilla and Hand directives to divine some way to make these weapons usable for the unfingered.

“There aren’t any more them, are there?” Celestia asked after the weapon vanished.

“Neigh,” Luna lied, “that was the only one that remains.”

Celesta gave a her sister a quizzical look, as if she didn’t believe the Lunar Regent. It was a minute emotion, one that lasted nary a second and when it passed, she wore the same passive mask that had been her trademark for centuries on end. Neither judging nor in disbelief, just making an assessment over all that was said. Luna could have kicked her sister’s teeth in for the display, if only she wasn’t addressing this panel.

There were several more question about the humans that Luna was forced to answer, mainly on their force size (one report form a Cloudsdale observation post out the number at over a million, so Luna had refute that claim,) as well as their behavior, ingress and egress. The egress part was hard to explain, because she wasn’t physically present when that happened. She had been carted away from battle by Discord, ignoble as that was to not even finish the fight, so what she heard of Steven’s magical temper tantrum was all second and third hand accounts.

“There is much about the end of that battle that I cannot tell you,” Luna reported to the panel, “if you have not already called upon the lord of chaos to give ask of his testimony, then I would suggest you attempt to do so.”

“The entity known as Discord has already been notified of our request for his presence,” Gavel stated, “as of yet, we have not heard if he will grace this panel with his presence.”

“I understand,” Luna replied, “such a creature does what he does when he wants. Even under his current ‘reformed’ state, he is as unpredictable as anything found in the Everfree forest.”

Gavel nods, then says, “We thank you for time here, Your Majesty. Your answers have shed great light unto this situation. While I do believe you would like to be quit of us, we may have more questions of greater importance that will need responses later on.”

“I understand,” Luna notes, “I shan’t be going anywhere.”

That last statement gets a few chuckles from the panel, even Gavels. And although she is relieved that her time with this panel is done for the now, she knows her sister will want to interrogate her later…

-Zecora’s Hut, Everfree Forest-

After the attack at the ruins, the zebra shamaness, Zecora, had spent an inordinate amount of time with Royal Guard patrols deep into the forsaken wood in search of what artifice the hoomans had used to get into Equestria. The searches were long and grueling; thus far, they had turned up nothing. Either the hoomans had erased their tracks, or, as Zecora had noted in her rather idiosyncratic way, that The Archmage’s last spell had wiped out any evidence of their presence. Still, the Royal Guard was under orders to cover the entire forest if necessary for any and all evidence.

That is why he found so easy to sneak into her abode. From his source, the zebra was the last known pony to have the article he was seeking. Mind you, he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust said source. The mare was a troublemaker and make no mistake. Still, she had exhibited signs shortly after her possession of the article, so he thought that the information was worth the cost of acquiring it. He would likely never see the mare again, even if she was a good lay, but that had never stopped other mares from trying.

He would have opted for night incursion, but the EVerfree Forest was dark enough during Celestia’s day that doing such after nightfall would be riskier than a broad daylight attempt. Faust only knew what lurked in these woods during the night. Maybe Luna did, but he was in no position or humor to ask. Besides, he had been meaning to get some time away from Canterlot…

Nevertheless, his foray into the hick town that bordered the most dangerous and wild place in Equestria was a rather- vexing. There were- certain ponies in that town that would recognize him on the spot, and the last thing he needed was to be noticed. Especially by the prissy one, her studious friend, or the one that told him about the location of his quarry in the first place. Stealth was never a skill he relied on exclusively and even during his time training under Optio Whippoorwill, he was never quite as talented in the covert arts as the Ptio would have preferred. Fortunately for him, there was nopony around of note that would see him, so he was able to enter the premises with ease.

The door, as simple as it was proved his first barrier. With no visible lock or handle on, he assumed he could just push it in. But as the old adage goes, “assumption is the mother of all buck ups,” so too did the would be burglar prove his hubris. The door would not budge, no matter how much physical or magical force he applied. He didn’t see any keyhole that he could pick, so unless there was some trick or method to getting the door open, he was going to need an alternate route.

The windows, thankfully, were devoid of glass, so he slipped in with a small modicum of trouble. He regretted two things trying to wedge himself through the narrow portal: A.) gorging himself on all the rich Canterlot fare that he did, and B.) not hiring some flunky or ne’er-do-well to perform this task for him. After squeezing in, though, he reconsidered those regrets. No his task was to find the article, if he could given the seemingly disordered nature of the zebra’s living space.

The masks on the floor, near where he assumed (hopefully) were the corners of the place; the cauldron set in a fire pit under the chimney port in the roof; the collection of vials, flasks, jars, and bottles adorning the shelves, the lone bed, covered in the hide of a Zebrican manticore no less, peeking out from an alcove in one wall, these details made him very anxious to retire to his posh apartment. He couldn’t imagine spending a night in this hovel, let alone the rest of his life. His hooves were also killing him, walking on dirt floors like this. The marble in his apartment was no better; it was smoother but much more rigid and even with proper shoes on, it would hurt like the dickens. Thank Faust for carpets…

No such luxury here, especially since it seemed the only article of clothing the shamaness possessed was a travel worn and threadbare cloak of homespun wool. The rough texture would have killed him, given his fair coat and sensitive skin. How anypony could stand to wear it was beyond him; he thought ruefully that not everypony can wear silks, nor should anypony without station.

Now he faced a new quandary: where to look for the article? His source was uncertain where the zebra could have hidden it. She had taken flight shortly after it was removed from her (or did she remove it herself before it was confiscated?) so she she had no reasonable guess as to where it was hidden. The stallion had no qualms of turning this place upside to find what he was looking for but given that this operation was to be as covert as possible, he couldn’t risk ransacking the place. He would need to search carefully, methodically, into every nook and cranny of the building to find what he sought. He also didn’t want to use his magic; another assumption he had was that the zebra had warded this place to counteract unicorn spells. He was also within fair proximity of his target that any magecraft would alert his mark.

As calmly and as carefully as he could, he began to pursue that which he came here for. He started with the most obvious places, such as pots, vases, shelves. There plenty of crockery about but none of the pieces he investigated resulted in his quarry. Further researches into the shelving went about the same. (He did uncover a star spider hiding behind one of the flasks on a lower shelf. He damn near screamed for fright but the monstrous arachnid skittered off to darkened places, leaving the thief to his own devices.) There weren’t many vases that he could find and what ones that were present held nothing of any interest for him.

Next, he began a very thorough scouring of the bed and the space beneath it. There was nothing to be found there but some curios and knick knacks, including an odd rectangular piece of crystal with an attached metal strip. The stallion didn’t know what this was for, although it did pique his curiosity. He returned it to it’s place under the filthy straw pillow, hoping to see some equal to it's design elsewhere. Without any luck thus far, he decided to take his best bet would be with the cauldron and chancing a little magic. The hut was dark without the miniscule amount of sun the hut received from the cleared trees or the fire in the fire pit.

Lighting up his horn and planting his forehooves on the lip of the kettle, he peered into its blackened depths. His light, while strong, showed very little of the cauldron’s innards. Even so, he was certain his target was not in there. After stepping back onto all four hooves, he cursed himself the fool, for believing that stupid whorse and her lies. He had thought this was a wild goose chase and now he believed it to be honestly so. There was no way the zebra would keep such a powerful artifact in her abode…

Then he saw it, lying adjacent to the door. He couldn’t understand how he could have missed something so obviously out of place in this shack. The gold of the band was worth more than anything this zebra could afford and was nearly out of the price range of many Canterlot families. The bloodstone jewel that was the centerpiece of the item shone even in the dark of this dingy backwoods chanty. Either the shamaness was possessed of a wicked sense of humor or she had no thought of anypony breaching her humble- whatever this really was to steal an object of this import. In his haste, though, he nearly touched it. According to his source, this would folly of the highest order. Once touched, it would latch on, as the mare told him, which she seem to consider an advantage of sorts. The stallion didn’t of it that way, certainly not in light of his long term plans.

Fortunate favored him again, for his paramour had gifted him with the most keen satchel. He was carrying it on this operation for just this occasion. While it would not do to grasp the object with nothing but his magic, to do so in the open would invite disaster. So, calmly and carefully, the stallion lifted the necklace in his aura and the same time lifted his satchel of his withers to drop the necklace in it. Once he had both positioned perfectly, he ended the levitation spell on the amulet, letting it fall into his satchel. Closing the bag with a final flourish and replacing the bag along his back, he ran a thorough inspection of the hut to ensure he left nothing out of place. While not a cat burglar by any means, the less evidence of his time here, the better.

Ensured that both the most cursory of glances as well the most exhaustive examinations of the shack would show nothing out of the ordinary, he left he same way he came in. First, he needed to be certain that none were lying in wait for him outside. A brief revealing jinx showed nopony or zebra within the immediately vicinity. Double checking showed that he was free and clear to commence egress, so he made the wise decision to exit. This time, he tossed his bag out first, thinking that was what may have hindered his earlier progress. Even without the satchel’s girth or weight, he still had trouble getting through the window. Once freed of his temporary prison, he made all haste down a seldom used path back to the local train station. His prize jostled considerably in his bag, which bumped his sides, but he could care less. His primary goal in his vengeance had been achieved. Onward to stage two.

When he emerged from the forest and back into town proper, he did as Option Whippoorwill had drilled him to do so often. He dove from cover to cover, avoiding the main roads and keeping to back alleys and side streets to escape detection. The only place where he would be thoroughly vulnerable in his flight would be the train station but by then, he would have removed all suspicion about his foray there. Sure enough, as he approached the station, making to veer away from the studious one’s residence/work place, the stallion soon found himself amidst an early luncheon crowd and very few ponies noticing his personage.

That suited him just fine; the fewer dolts of this hillbilly mudhole knew he was here, the better. He was still exposed, but his disguise (such as it was,) and the crowd kept his visage obscured from the commonpony. Arriving at the broad veranda that devised the train station's main building and platform, he showed the ticket salesmare his roundtrip fare; she allowed him to board the train already on the platform bound for Canterlot. Without any luggage, which was something he was unaccustomed to, besides his satchel, he didn’t need to wait for a porter. Instead, he boarded the train’s first class carriage and found a waiting seat.

He didn’t relax until the rolled out of the station some fifteen minutes later and he was well outside the Ponyville’s outskirts. He desperately wanted to inspect his prize, but doing so openly would compromise carefully laid plans and schemes, so opted not to, at least until he was sure he would not be seen. And besides, his rather perilous sojourn deserved a reward. As soon as the serving cart came down the aisle, he ordered a stiff brandy, a plate of caviar, some spruced greens in garlic butter, and a the finest baguette of Prench bread available. The kitchen staff on board did not fail to appease his palette. The greens were fresh and crispy, the bread was utter perfection, the caviar was divine and his brandy was chilled and brisk, just the way he liked it. He ordered a second snifter while he polished off a sorbet and it arrived while he was getting his mane shampooed and conditioned.

The train ride wouldn’t be very long, but he would bucked if he turned up in Canterlot looking disheveled. Given the degree of athleticism and sweat he poured searching for his trinket, he needed a desperate washing of his mane. He would get his coat and tail done later, likely at that quaint little Neighponese bath house he so loved to frequent. The fillies there were so exotic and cute, not that he would ever associate with them normally. They may be good at arousing his libido but he preferred a more- refined companionship. Arayne maybe many things, but she was one of the few mares in town who held his beliefs, even if she were somewhat crass about it. Feigning interest in here, and bedding her also, were all in part of his much grander scheme.

With his second snifter of brandy down and his mane thoroughly cleansed, the stallion opted to make a quick trip to the lavatory. He was in need to relieve himself but he also wanted to inspect his treasure away from prying eyes, as well. Hefting his satchel making his way toward the back of the car, he slid effortlessly into the lavatory stall and locked the door behind him. He made a show of reliving his filled bladder and washing his hooves, but all the while he held his booty aloft. The gold, the gem, all of it was priceless and perfectly pristine. Not a smudge of grease nor spot of dirt could be seen upon its surface. It didn’t even smell the mare who last wore it. This pleased him greatly.

“At least,” he whispered, “my plans can go forward. After rebuilding my wealth and restoring my standing with my fellow nobles, I now have the means by which to exact my revenge! Now that I have the Alicorn Amulet, I can move on to the second phase of my operation. The mongrels I have contacted will give me word soon if they are willing or not to join my cause. And with the members of my secret society, Pax Equina, ready to bolster me to the position so rightly mine, I begin making Equestria the jewel Celestia hasn’t never allowed to become. And, this all comes at the expense of that Orangutan, who humiliated me at my own game! I’ll show him once I have marshalled my forces and we take Canterlot for our own. It shall be so or my name is not Prince Blueblood, heir to Princess Platinum, Lord of All Unicorns!”

A knock came at the door as Blueblood finished his monologue. There was the tapping of hooves as another pony outside the door trotting in place.

“Excuse me,” said a feminine voice, “but if you’re done in there, could you let somebody else in there, please?”

Grumbling, Prince Blueblood gathered up his things, turned around in the stall, and unlocked the door. Upon opening the stall, he received quite a shock. Standing there in the corridor, wearing an ill-fitting maid outfit, was a hooman. The hemline for the female was so short, he could see well up it from his position. This gave him a clear view of the sodden underclothes beneath, as well as the petticoats bolstering the skirt. Her barrel was the strangest thing he had ever seen, with what appeared to be teats threatening to tear the fabric of the uniform, stretched so tautly it was.

Her face reminded him of the Orangutan, but where his face was ruddy and his hair was an orange hue, this one had blonde hair and green eyes with a fair complexion. She was smaller than the Orangutan by half a pony length and she looked young. She was certainly younger than the Orangutan and much slimmer. If Blueblood were honest with himself, he might think of her as mildly attractive. As it was, he was annoyed such a beast could disrupt his alone time.

“Hrmph,” he grunted and as he made his for the female hooman, he hip checked her, nearly causing her to fall. She teetered on her hooves or whatever hoomans have at the bottom of their hind legs, before righting herself. He never saw the angry look cross her features or the rude gesture she displayed as he left.

“Gah, how rude!” She called back, to which she received silence.

It didn’t occur to Blueblood until after he returned to Canterlot proper that he had encountered another hooman. The realization struck him funny because, as far as his Aunt Celestia was concerned, there was only one hooman in Equestria. Yet, he found another and from all he saw, she was under the employ of another pony. What did this mean?

Relieving herself in the tiny lavatory had been a chore. Meghan was always kind of tall for her age, but given that she had spent the last three years living in a land of technicolor ponies, she found it uncomfortable to use equine restroom facilities. She doubted that she could find anything remotely human here, but she would never give up hope that she would. These days, though, she just hoped her latest “employer” didn’t treat like some pet.

Given that most ponies didn’t believe humans existed, let alone ever saw one, she held out little hope for that. Exhibit A: the demeaning “dress” that was part of her work attire. She would have loved to get back the overalls she was in when she found herself here, but those had been burned a long time ago. Some careless pony had set them ablaze, probably because they didn't understand what they were. Those few weeks where she was running around practically naked were some of the worst in her sixteen years of life.

Not that the uniform she presently wore was any better. The huffy unicorn colt she met had a a good view of the pantaloons that served as underwear for this getup. She was glad the colt was either uninterested, too distracted, or plain gay enough not to get a stiffy. She had seen that happen plenty of times when she and Molly had worked that factory job… Don’t think about Molly, don’t think about Molly. The more I dwell on that, the more likely it is I’ll break down in hysterics

Now that her bladder was empty, Meghan used what passed for pony toilet tissue and cleaned herself up. She snatched up that pantaloons to put them back on, then smoothed out the uniform she wore. She washed her hands in the tiny lavatory sink. A second look at her work clothes confirmed that she couldn’t stall in this miniscule cubicle any longer.

“Time to face the music,” Meghan sighed.

Leaving the cubicle was the second hardest thing she had to do; she didn’t want to think about the hardest. Another sigh, and Meghan was back in the corridor for the lavatories. No sign of Prissy McFussbucket, thankfully. She lurche a little as the train took a bend at speed, but righted herself quick enough. She then walked back into the commercial class car where her “mistress” was waiting.

“Ah, there you are, Meelan,” a chubby, middle aged mare with an indigo mane streaked with gray sat in the middle of the cabin, “I almost thought you fell in!”

“Mrs. Carousel,” Meghan replied, “It’s Meghan. I’ve explained this time and time again, Meg-an. Not Meela, or Meelan, Meemaw, Meghan.”

“Oh, sorry dearie,” Mrs. Carousel said, “I can be so terrible with names sometimes. My daughters are the lone exception.”

The sound of the clicking and clacking of the train on the tracks filled the cars. As it was Meghan tried to relax. Her mind was full, but as far as ponies went Mrs. Carousel wasn’t bad. She was fair, ensured that Meghan was treated about as well as any other pony, and for the most part didn’t try to treat her like an oversized doll, well most of the time. Her current state of dress was an obvious exception, but she was willing to forget about it, continue on, and forge ahead. After all, it wasn’t like things could get much worse.

“Next Stop, Colt’on - Outer Canterlot and directly after Inner Canterlot,” the Conductor said as he passed by.

“Mrs. Carousel, which part of Canterlot are we heading for?” Meghan asked.

“Oh, inner Canterlot dear. Magnum and I have put off visiting for far too long, and even though I don’t like it, well, one of us has to ensure that the taxes are paid, and of course that the house still has everything it needs. I’ll never understand why we just couldn’t sell that blasted place and be done with it. It’s not like either of us really want to live there. I suppose keeping it for our daughters, but then again, I don’t really see either of them wanting to live here,” she replied.

Meghan had to admit that Mrs Carousel was certainly more down to Earth, and friendlier, than Big Top had been. She shivered as she thought of the Circus owner. Cruel didn’t even begin to describe him. She’d managed to get away, but not before he’d used the whip. Sveti, the gryphoness that had been in captivity along with her, had covered her, and let Meghan escape. She had stopped, finding a mallet, and used it on Big Top.

The Stallion had been knocked out cold, and from there Meghan had went on her own way. Her back still had the scar, the awful scar that Top’s whip had left. In truth, she hated to be without a shirt because of it. It was deep, red, and for a very long time it hurt like the Devil himself had took a meat hook and raked it right across her back. She’d escaped, unsure if she even wanted to deal with ponies again. Slowly, but surely, hunger won out, and she ended up meeting Cherries Jubilee Ms. Jubilee was a practical mare, and practicality meant doing a day’s work for a day’s pay.

Unfortunately clothes really didn’t fit into that, despite her argument. So standing, practically naked, picking cherries, sorting cherries, and fetching cherries wasn’t a whole lot of fun. Especially when a few stallions seemed more than a little curious about her ‘teats’ and where they were located. She knew that they were harmless, and they were just asking because they honestly were curious, but it bothered her.

“Meghan, did I say that right? Dear, we’re here,” Mrs Carousel said as the train stopped.

She followed her mistress, the pony she went to work for after she left Ms Jubilee’s farm. At least she got to wear clothes, although the French Maid getup was getting old. She walked toward a row of houses that made every place here, and back home, look poor in comparison. Mrs. Carousel seemed to be trotting along, greeting every pony that passed by her whether or not they returned the greeting.

She noticed another Unicorn wearing a monocle, dressed in an expensive looking Tuxedo, well the jacket, shirt, and bowtie, nearing them. His blue mane was a contrast to his white coat, and she noticed that his mustache looked freshly waxed, as if he took great pains to ensure that every hair was perfectly kept in place. He saw her trotting toward him, and he smiled graciously toward her.

“Mrs. Carousel! How Marvelous to see you! Tell me, has your dear husband Magnum joined you this time? I’d love to take a few moments to discuss a potential business venture with the both of you. Well, not so much a venture as it would be discussing the possibility of having you both perform for my sister’s birthday party. After all, a mare only turns eighteen once, or in Fleur's case five times,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, that sounds marvelous, but it will have to wait. Magnum is currently in Baltimare tying up a few loose ends on the escrow of our old home, but I’ll be glad to talk to him about it. Oh, where are my manners, Fancy, this is my new maid, Meghan. I am saying the name right dear?” she asked looking at Meghan who nodded, “Good, anyway, I wanted to introduce you to her. She’s mighty handy to have around, and she’s a decent cook too. I might have her teach Sweetie Belle some of the things she can cook. I mean, I know I taught her some fancy cookin..”

Fancy’s smile seemed to become a bit more pressed at the mention of Mrs. Carousel’s cooking, and Meghan knew why. The first day on the job the mare had insisted on her joining them for breakfast. She wasn’t sure how, but it seemed like she had ended up burning everything, including the juice. After that, Meghan took it upon herself to cook for them. Every meal, which Magnum seemed more than happy to let her. She’d once heard that love was eating a burnt meal, smiling, and asking for seconds. If that was true then Magnum loved Mrs. Carousel a whole bunch, like a whole, whole, whole bunch.

“Yes, well, one would be hard pressed to find a cook who was able to prepare… more interesting dishes than yourself my dear, but I’m afraid I must press on. I’m running a bit late to check in on my store, and I do so want to make sure that it is running correctly. Please, don’t be a stranger, and have a lovely day!” he said as he trotted off.

“Such a nice stallion, you know, he’d be the kind that would make a mare a good husband. You may want to think about that dear,” she said as she lead the way toward another house.

This one wasn’t nearly as big as the others; oh, it was certainly beautiful and spacious, but compared to some of the other houses it looked a little plain. They walked up to it, and Mrs. Carousel knocked on the front door. A blue unicorn with a blue and white mane stuck her head out.

“Mrs. Carousel! Welcome back! I totally made sure that your house was still standing. Oh, my friend Lyra is visiting, she’s training to be a reservist guard, and she came over with me to check things, is that okay?”

“Minuette, we need to get them some more peanut butt… HUMAN!”

A green blur streaked across the room, and tackled Meghan with the force of a hurricane. She rode it to the ground as best she could as a mint green unicorn smiled a little too widely at her.

“ANOTHER HUMAN!” The mint colored unicorn shouted, “Sweet Celestia, I found another one!”

The unicorn looked positively excited, thrilled, and well overjoyed at Meghan’s appearance. Meghan looked at Mrs Carousel who was desperately trying not to laugh, but the older mare moved toward them. She gently ushered Lyra down from Meghan, but the younger mare was still smiling like a complete loon.

“A real HUMAN! Wow, So where did you come from? Oh, oh, did you come from the badlands? Most of the ancient history I’ve found said that your kind lived out there! Oh! Is it true that you eat almost anything? Are there more of you? Do you like games? Oh, is that the kind of clothes that your kind wear all of the time? Did you know that you’re kind of cute as a maid? Do you think that I could talk my marefriend into dressing like a maid? Oh Wow HANDS! You’ve got the most awesome set of hands! Minuette look!”

Minuette looked toward Meghan and gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry, she really doesn’t have much of a filter. We try to get her to think about things before she talks, but it doesn’t always happen.”

Meghan gave a smile back, “It’s okay, I’ve known several others with the same problem “

“Lyra, didn’t you say you met a human in Ponyville?”

Meghan’s eyes widened and she looked at the mint green unicorn.

“Uh huh, Steve, he’s a nice colt, but Bon Bon was telling me that he wasn’t a human, but she insists he’s called The Archmage.”

Lyra leaned toward Meghan, “She’s not a believer, Bon Bon I mean.”

Knowing there was another human here made her a little happy, and it also saddened her. She hoped that he hadn’t been discovered by anyone like Big Top. That was the last thing she’d want was for someone to get hurt like she had been. Sure, it had happened a long time ago, but the memory of what Big Top had one was still fresh, and every time she took her top off she had that unsightly scar to remind her that there was cruelty here.

When she first saw the ponies, she never would have guessed that any of them would have the ability to be cruel. For the most part they were almost all so pleasant, but the more she considered it the more likely it was that some of them would indeed have the ability. After all they were very human in action, in thought, and for that reason alone it meant that they had the capacity for good and evil.

The ponies she was around now, even the little green one that looked like she had realized the greatest moment of her life, weren’t bad ponies. They were actually quite nice, and she knew for a fact that Mrs. Carousel was kind. Not a good cook, and had a terrible taste in fashion, but still very kind.

“It’s Lyra, right?” Meghan asked of the minty unicorn.

“Uh huh,” Lyra said, cantered to show the human her emblazoned flank, “Lyra Heartstrings, Still Way Grandmaster, player of the lyre, hooman enthusiast, at your service!”

“Okay,” Meghan mused, “this other human, his name was Steven, right?”

Lyra nodded, “Yup, he lives in Ponyville, down in Canter Valley. He’s a good friend of mine and Bonnie’s. And, oh boy, does that brony know how to scratch behind the ears. It’s the fingers, ya see…”

“No doubt,” Meghan cut the mare off, “and he’s alive? He’s not, hurt, or scarred, or anything?”

“Uh,” Lyra began, “well, when he first came in last spring, he was pretty badly hurt. Lost a leg, think; he told me it got sheared in an air plain accident, whatever those are. He tried to explain to me, but I couldn’t follow with how he described it.”

“An airplane accident,” Meghan musd, “that- doesn’t make sense… He didn’t say anything about a whirlpool in the air or anything?”

“You know, I think he did,” Lyra answers, “but I can’t be sure. Twilight Sparkle might now more. She’s been chronicling his time here in Equestria. She did a very exhaustive interview with him after his recovery.”

“You’re talking about Steve, right?” Minuette asked, “I know him, too. He’s my best client.”

That got Cookie Crumbles and Meghan to share a look.

“You know him, too?” Cookie asked, “how strange.”

“Eh, it’s not that strange,” Minuette replied, “he comes in every month, like clockwork. I inspect his teeth and gums. I don’t really need to do that much; he seems rather meticulous about cleaning his teeth. Ah, that is one set of teeth-”

“He’s known,” Meghan inquired, “to every pony in town?”

“-those cuspids are so exotic looking for how sharp they are… What? Oh, yes, he knows everypony in town, even Cranky Doodle Donkey. Now there’s a client from Tartarus if there ever was one…”

“Miss Minuette, if I could ask you to focus,” Meghan started, and when the unicorn finally topped raving. She continued, “Did this Steven ever mention where he came from?”

“Uh huh,” Minute answered, beaming, “he said he was Texas, someplace called La-ray-do. Never heard of it before; doesn’t sound like any pony town.”

“Laredo, Texas,” Meghan repeated, “maybe he’s Mexican-?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Minute said, and Lyra offered the following, “I don’t think Steve ever mentioned any place like ‘Mexico.’ Although, it does sound a lot like Mexicolt.”

Shaking her head, Meghan interjected, “sorry, sorry, I was diverging. You said, Minuette, you said he lives in- Ponyville, right?”

“Ponyville,?” Cookie puzzled, “my oldest daughter, Rarity lives in Ponyville. We have a house there. Such a quaint little place and friendly, too!”

“No doubt,” Meghan quipped, “so, he’s fine there, Steven?”

“Steve?” Lyra began, “oh, yeah, he’s great! Got a new leg and everything. EVen as something like a Parasprite or Breezy that hovers nearby all the time. I think he calls it Esmer or something.”

“Huh,” Meghan stated, “I’ve seen parasprites. Remember, Mrs. Carousel? That infestation back in Baltimare?”

“Oh, yes, who could forget!” Cookie exclaimed, “Ate up all the food, the wee things. If Princess Celestia hadn’t turned up, I have no doubt all of Baltimare would have starved as those things ate everything edible.”

“So he’s alive?” Meghan mused.

“And engaged!” Lyra shouted, “he has two mares that are his fiancees. Oh, what I would give to be mounted by a hooman.”

“That does sound nice,” Meghan said dreamily, then she shouted, “Wait, what?!”

WARNING! WARNING! LOCALIZED BREACH OF FOURTH WALL IN PROGRESS! INSTABILITY OF REALITY AT ZETA 0, YOTTA 0, CHI 0! PLEASE REMAIN CALM; THIS BREACH WILL SEALED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!

*Tink, Tink, Tink!*

“Hi, there, Pinkie Pie here! Didn’t think you;’d rid of me that easily, huh? Didja, didja, didja? Anyhay, I bet you didn't see that coming, huh? Prince Blueblood with the Alicorn Amulet! Another human in Equestria! Princess Luna getting the hots for Stevie! Wowie zowie!”

“I mean, Princess Luna getting all lovey dovey for Steve is kind of understandable. I mean, he does have a nice flank. He’s mane is all kinds of soft, too, even softer than Fluttershy’s. And those lips? Cheese Sandwich has some nice lips, but Stevie’s just invite to you kiss and bite them all day long…”

“Oops! Don’t want to give away any ♫spoilers!♪ So, how about that Blueblood? What do you think he plans on doing with the Alicorn Amulet? Something sounds fishy to me… Which reminds me, how is Stevie getting all his protein? I mean, we ponies can get from legumes like peanuts, almonds, dates (which isn’t even a legume, I think,) macadamia nuts, stallion seed… Oh, listen to me! Prattling on about stallion spunk like some filly during her first estrus!”

“A pony does have to wonder where all those Proletariat humans came from? I mean, they had to come from somewh-”

We apologize for this tackless breach of of the fourth wall. The management team that replaced the previous incompetents has been sacked and a new team is being trained as we speak. We thank for your patience and hope you return for the next thrilling chapter!

41 Domestication

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Phase Three: Bones of An Ancient Age

From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 116:

My magic is back! Ugh, I was feeling incomplete without it at hand. Now mind you, it isn’t as potent as it was before the Battle of The Castle of The Royal Pony Sisters, but it is back. Hand That Mourns and my Predecessors assure me I should be back at full strength is short order. I sure hope so; I was only just getting into telekinetic effects. Levitation requires massive amounts of mana and resources to use it effectively, which is kinda funny if you ask me. Lifting a feather requiring the sort of power I’d normally reserve for spells like Consumption. There is no way that isn’t Conservation Of Badass…
The other thing that’s been happening as of late is the preparation for shifting the Wolf Den to a new part of Sweet Apple Acres. This will allow Fluttershy to move her cottage and attach it to my house, thus, she can stay near me and Jackie and not have to worry about her woodland friends. Our previous arrangement as a herd was rather precarious, as Jackie was the closest mare to me, given my proximity to her apple orchard, and Flutters was essentially on a timeshare plan with me. We quickly discovered this approach was entirely untenable. This new arrangement should make it far easier for each of us and put less strain on the relationship.
I think the only thing that is worth mentioning is that the fusing of The Menagerie and The Wolf Den is going to effectively double two things: the square living space of our respective homes and my proximity to Angel Bunny. I’m looking forward to the former and rather resenting the latter. My Butterfly assures me that Angel won’t cause me any major problems; that’s not what worries me. I have a feeling Angel sees me as competition for his Mistress’ affections. In a way, he’s right, but other than companionship and a surly attitude, Angel can’t love Fluttershy as I do, or satisfy her more carnal needs. I think Jackie is preparing some humane traps to keep Angel out of her cabbage patch and other vulnerable crops that she grows. If I had one, I would let her borrow my shotgun. Wouldn’t even need to load it with honest buckshot; just fill the shells with rock salt.
Time will tell if this is monumentally bad idea or an excellent idea to improve the intimacy of the herd…

“Come on there, Mister Handy” Jackie yells, “whatchya’ll doin’ hangin’ back there, fer?”

I stomp up the path, burdened by two bushels worth of apples stuffed into burlap sacks upon my shoulders. I had spent a few summers working for an oil field construction company, digging ditches as well as post holes, and pretty much every degree of general labor drudgery that could have been concocted for a unskilled fool like myself. It was back breaking labor and the lowest point I thought I could ever reach as an adult. Hubris, thy name is Steven.

“Well, golly gee, Applejack,” I wheeze as I approach, “these sacks are filled with lead and I only just recovered from magic poisoning. Did you expect me to come roaring back like a manticore with a mad on?”

Jackie chuckles, saying, “Nah, I expected ya to complain all the way up the hill. Ya done better than I hoped, but we got a ways to go ‘fore ya’ll can rest.”

“Oh, be still, my beating heart,” I quip.

“Ya’ll keep that sass up and Ah won’t tell ya what Ah got planned for when we’re done,” Applejack teases with a wink, “Ah promise, it’s gonna be fun.”

With a heave and a grunt, I carry on with my load, following Jackie’s swinging tail and ample rump. Every little bit, she’ll swish her tail from side to side and I’ll catch a glimpse of her marehood. Such sights are sure motivation to keep up as best I can. Before the poisoning, I would boost myself with Titan’s Boon and Mercury’s Gift, maybe augment it all with some Atlas’ Burden. My magic is still weak right now, so those booster spells are nowhere near as strong as they once were. And to think, I once took my arcane prowess for granted.

So onward we go, from steady slope to steep incline, marching through the orchard at not quite a full gallop but something faster than a trot. I’m not sure what the name of it is; for all I know, it might be a run. I’m not sure what it’s called but I’m certain it doesn’t really matter all that much. I’m sweating profusely, the muscles in my legs and back are screaming in protest, and my arms aren’t far that behind in open revolt. My asthma, which had improved dramatically after my acclimation, had reared it's head again and threatened to close up my larynx once more with mucus.

“Almost there,” Applejack called back, “should be seein’ daylight soon, just ya wait.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I gasp, “coming up behind you.”

A smug grin appeared on her face as Applejack turned her head to speak to me, “Ya’ll enjoying the view back there?”

“Very much so,” I answer, “best view in town, in my honest opinion.”

“Ya’ll and yer flattery,” Jackie murmurs, “ya’ll gonna have plenty of time fer that.”

I would retort, but just then I saw one of the most beautiful sights in my short life: Fluttershy, laid out on a picnic blanket, a daisy chain woven into her mane and a breakfast spread that be would be envy of King Louis XVI. I damn near dropped the sacks on my shoulders for looking and then Jackie adds to the scene by sweeping off her Stetson and plopping down right next to Flutters. Both mares have their tails arranged so their plots are showing; it’s a wonder I hadn’t blow my load into my shorts by this point. In spite of the Autumn air settling into the valley, the glade where I was lead to was sunny and warm. My mares really went all out to make this a special breakfast. I’m really glad I woke up this morning.

Noticing a spot on the picnic blanket between my girls, I ask, “Is this spot taken?”

Fluttershy, using her most coquettish expression, replies, “We were saving it for you.”

“Are ya waitin’ on an engraved inv’tation?” Applejack asks.

“No sir,” I quip and sidle into the space my mares have left of me.

Flutters and Jackie began stroking my chest with their forelegs; it is the most regal treatment I have ever had and I’m loving every minute of it. It only gets more royal when Flutters starts pulling food out of the picnic basket and starts feeding me, Caligula style. Jackie, meanwhile is massaging my muscles in my back and shoulders, using her hooves like- well, I don’t have a comparison, but it is rather relaxing. Jackie is one of the hardest working beings I know and yet the frogs of her hooves are velvet soft. Before long, my belly is full of honey maple sandwiches and Granny Smith apple slices. I’m sporting the biggest erection I’ve had in awhile.

“Well, ‘Shy, it looks like I owe ya five bits,” Jackie titters, watching the tent growing in my pants, “he is as spry as ever.”

“I told you so,” Flutters confirms with a nod, “My Stevie is a proud stallion. He can get it up for his mares when he wants to.”

“Were you gals worried about me?” I ask, “I’m flattered.”

“Well, after all that fightin’ and scrappin’ at The Pony Sisters’ Castle, Ah was wound up pretty tight,” Applejack answers, “Ah was- well, ‘Shy and Ah were kinda wonderin’ if’n you’d be up fer a roll in the hay. Then ya turned up sick and well, that kinda put paid enny plans we had.”

“I’m sorry, girls,” I apologize, “I hadn’t known having my magic restricted like that would make me so damn weak. Trust me, I was willing, more than willing, to satisfy you both.”

“We know, Stevie,” Fluttershy said, “we thought you needed some time to recover. While we were disappointed, we wouldn’t ask you to do something you hadn’t had the energy for.”

“Thanks Fluttershy, thanks Applejack,” I say, nuzzling the two most beautiful mares in Equestria, “I can make it up to you two, I swear I will.”

“That’s wha’ we like to hear,” AJ exclaimed, “now how ‘bout ya’ll scoot on in here. There’s plenty o’ food and plenty o’ mare to go ‘round, ya hear?”

“I think I’ll do just that,” I reply and scootch on in between them.

The rest of the morning is spent dining on the fine feast my mares have cobbled together. And making love for the first time since the Royal Pony Sisters Castle incident. I was still feeling a little weak and I was certain I would be inadequate to please them, but they were very happy they got their stallion back. When we were done, we just lay there on the picnic blanket, letting Celestia’s sun warm us up and dry off the sweat. I was assured that whatever sexual tension had built over the last little while was now thoroughly sated.

While I would have liked to laze around that day, my recuperation had left me with a feeling of cabin fever. So, after convincing Shy and Jackie into a (non-sensual) shower, we trotted our way into town. As far as I knew, no news had propagated about the battle in The Everfree. As far as anypony knew, there was emergency that Princesses Luna and Twilight had to handle out that way, but details were slim. In all honesty, I felt that less ponies knew of that event, the better and it appeared that Princess Celestia was of the same mind. Although, I have to think her reasons for doing so are vastly differently than mine.

In any case, AJ, Fluttershy, and myself wandered aimlessly through town. I didn’t feel like anything was out of place, but I did see a lot more Solar Guards than usual. The town constabulary was usually on patrol, but for every constable I did see, there was a pair of Royal Guards trailing behind her, spears at the ready. More than once, I felt their eyes fall upon me; I don’t think I’ve ever been so unnerved before as by the stares I got than when it came from those guards.

Now, I’m unsure if our route led us there or if it was our aim to get there in the first, but we eventually turned up at Twilight’s place. The Golden Oak was doing some fair trade that day and while I was still rather lackluster in written Equestrian, I’m pretty sure the sign over the door was about some book sale. I didn’t know that sort of thing happened in Equestria, but Flutters was curious about it, so we ventured within. There were a few ponies milling about, some were actively perusing the titles on hoof, and some were there to partake of the refreshments recently laid out. The mare of the hour was behind her circulation counter, where an antique, scrolltop cashier’s register was planted.

“Hey Twilight,” I called out, “what in wide world of Equestria is going on in here?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Twilight beamed, “just a little book sale. Some of the volumes I have here are older editions and I need to make some room for newer editions. Also, I was hoping to give Sunset a little lesson in friendship!”

“A lesson in friendship?” Fluttershy asked, “And, uh, how would that work in with a book sale, Twilight?”

“I was kinda wonderin’ that meself,” AJ said, “what is yer apprentice gonna learn from a book sale?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Twilight said coyly, “ah, there she is!”

Twilight pointed a hoof to her right, we looked and we saw. Parading around the floor of the library was Sunset Shimmer, clad in a business mare’s suit, holding a tray of treats for the patrons and wearing the most plastic smile I had ever seen. I would laugh, but the throbbing vein on her forehead was threatening to burst. I didn’t want to be accused to making bursting a pony’s aneurysm. And given how uncomfortable Sunset looked, it wouldn’t take much for her dam to burst, either. It was a little harder for Shy and Jackie to hold back their mirth, though.

“Laugh it up, fillies,” Sunset growled, “she has three more of these things in back.”

And that shut them up right quick…

“Actually, I’m surprised you three are here,” Twilight said, “I would imagine you would be spending as much with each other as possible.”

“Eh, I was getting cabin fever,” I replied, “anymore time spent at home and I was going to lose it. No offense, Sunset.”

“None taken,” the fiery mare said, “though I’m certain you do have some barbs you’d like to trade with me.”

“I had thought about it,” I responded, “but given how much of an effort you’re making to be pleasant this afternoon, I didn’t want to ruin the illusion.”

“Actually,” Applejack added, “I kinda had a few question fer ya, filly.”

“Oh?” Sunset asked, placing her tray down, “And what would those be?”

“Where were ya during the- thing?” AJ inquired, “Ah woulda figured ya be there with yer princess, helpin’ us fight.”

“Uh,” Sunset began, “well, I would have, really, I just, uh, I just-”

The poor mare was sweating bullets.

“Sunset,” Fluttershy started, “were you- afraid to go into the Everfree?”

“No, no!” Sunset exclaimed, “Why would I be afraid of a the scariest and wildest forest in all of Equestria? It’s not like it isn’t teeming with predatory wildlife and is treacherous underhoof or anything!”

“Ah smell a scaredypony,” Applejack announced.

“Applejack!” Twilight admonished, “That’s totally unfair! Aren’t you a little too old to be name calling anypony?”

“I have to agree with twilight on this one, Jackie,” I add, “I know Sunny and I harass each other all the time and whether that’s good natured ribbing or not, I honestly don’t know. Yet, I would never only berate Sunset about anything like that. So what if the Everfree frightens her? It frightens most ponies! From what I understand, you were practically terrified of it the first time you went in!”

“Wha-what?!” AJ sputtered, “Now who done tole ya that?!”

“A little birdie did,” I reply with a wink, “now I think you owe Sunny an apology.”

“Consarn it,” AJ muttered, then turning to Sunset, “I’m sorry, Sunset. Tweren’t right of mah to mock yer fears and all.”

“A-apology accepted,” Sunset replied, “wow.”

“What is it?” Twilight asked.

“I think that is the first time I’ve ever accepted a pony’s apology before,” Sunset said, “I’m still upset, but not as much as before.”

Twilight smiled, then said, “I think you’re making progress, Sunset! Hopefully soon, you can return to Canterlot and face your demons without any shame!”

“Yeah, fat chance of that happening,” Sunset snarked, “so, are you all here to gawk at the loser or did you have business you wanted to conduct?”

“Well, I think I saw an interesting recipe book, Dining With Minotaurs? I’m hoping nopony has made off with that one yet,” Fluttershy said.

“And I’m thinking of getting that there rodeo book, Buck Wild,” Applejack said, “Ah have the first three in th’ series.”

“There’s an entire series of rodeo books?” I asked, “Are they nonfiction, fiction, or historical fiction?”

“Nonfiction, Ah think,” AJ answered, “well, bless my stars! The whole series, in paperback! Ah think Ah got enough bits for this…”

I had to smile as my mares went a small shopping spree in The Golden Oak. I know Jackie is no slouch when it comes to brains, foregoing her lack of mathematical prowess, but she does tend to favor most anything related to farming or ranching. Flutters interest in that minotaur cookbook does have me quite curious. I have to wonder what it is she thinks might be in there that might be delectable. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.

“So, Steven,” Twilight begins, “how are you feeling? Has your magic come back?”

“Now that you ask,” I reply, “I am feeling better and my magic has returned. It isn’t as strong as it was before, but I have it under certain authority that should rectify itself shortly.”

“Ah, that reminds me,” Twilight said excitedly, then she ducked under the circulation desk and scrutinized the shelves underneath for a time. When she came back up, she held a tome as thick as the Oxford English Dictionary, but antiquated, with a faded and peeling leather cover.

“Princess Luna sent this,” Twilight said, “it supposed to be for you, but I couldn’t help but get a glance at it. I have no idea what it’s about because the glyphs inside are of no language I’ve ever read. The construction of the volume is a curiosity in and of itself, as well. Most books made in Equestria are string bound to heavy cardboard. The material of this cover feels strangely- fleshy and the pages are not bound at all. It looks like they were fused together.”

“Curiouser and curiouser…” I mused, “that sounds like the sort of build the books back home have, but this thing appears ancient. Was there any explanation from the Lunar Princess as to why she sent this?”

“Not really,” Twilight answered, placing the book on the counter with a slight thud, “just to give it to you at my first opportunity.”

“Then you can tell Blue it was well received,” I reply, picking the book up, “huh, lighter than what I was expecting.”

“Lighter?” Sunset asked, “When I picked it up it weighed a ton!”

“It was no sack of feather for me, either,” Twilight added, “just what is up with that book?”

I shook my head, bemused at all this trouble over a single tome, then opened it the first page. Upon doing so, The Aether opened wide for and the text on the pages quite literally came alive. Illustrations inked on the inside cover and in the margins of the pages began to dance; I was starting to have a very Harry Potter reaction to all this and I hoped to God I was holding a horcrux. As it turned out, I wasn’t and what I was seeing was an enchantment built into the book itself.

“It’s a spellbook,” I chimed, “not just any spellbook, though, but one written for The Archmages!”

Twilight and Sunset both gasped, “What?!”

“There’s a reason you couldn’t read it, Sparklebutt,” I added, “it’s written in Olde Imperian.”

“Old Imperian, huh?” Sunset wondered, “Yes, yes, that would make sense. Olde Imperian predates The Founding of Equestria, well before the Discordian Era! Nopony alive, except for maybe the Princesses, could read it.”

“And why not?” Twilight said, affronted, “I was Princess Celestia’s protege! She taught me everything she knew!”

“Or everything she wanted you to know,” Sunset snarked, “trust me, Twilight, she couldn’t possibly teach you everything she knew unless you became an alicorn, too. And even then, I’m pretty sure most of what you would need to know would come from experience.”

“But, I am an Alicorn…” Twilight murmured.

“Ladies,” I interrupted, “as fascinating as this conversation is, I think you have some customers awaiting you. As for myself, I think I’ll be perusing this tome later; there’s quite of lot information in here that I can learn from. Plenty of spells, some glamours, I even found some charms that might be useful later.”

“Aren’t you afraid of running out of mana?” Sunset asked, “I know from my education at Celestia’s School of Gifted Unicorns that every spell or cantrip has a cost; you’ll run out of mana eventually if you keep casting without a rest.”

“I don’t think Steven’s magic works that way,” Twilight said, “all the rules of Arcanus Equus don’t necessarily apply to Steven’s brand of magic.”

I nod, adding, “Human magic, or Arcanus Sapiens, has no need for a mana reservoir, unlike unicorns and alacorns. I pull mana from my environment and channel it in a way to craft spells. It looks more complicated than it actually is.”

“I- can’t imagine doing that,” Sunset admitted, “that sounds like a lot of busy work.”

“Had I any locus for my magic, I might understand,” I countered, then pointed to my forehead, “alas, no horn,” then I pointed to my back and feet, “no wings, no hooves. In a way, my entire body is a locus.”

“That is fascinating,” Twilight said, “you’re going to have my invite to one of your practice sessions.” Sunset nodded in agreement.

I smiled, saying, “We’ll just have to see what I can work out.”

Rainbow Dash had been resting on a cloud as it floated across Sweet Apple Acres. It was one of her favorite places to nap between weather duty jobs because the sound of the Apple Siblings working below was as much a sedative as anything Dash knew about. At the altitude she was at, hardly anything, save another Pegasus, could reach her. It also helped that another squad was assigned to the apple orchard, given it’s proximity to the Everfree Forest.

It was a surely relaxing perch and would have remained that way until an apple pierced her reclining cloud and knocked her upside her head.

“OW!” The cerulean Pegasus cried, “Hey, what gives?!”

When Rainbow Dash looks down, she sees nopony for a while. Then, sidling out from beneath a tree, came Big Mac. Even though the large, red Earth pony was as stoic as ever, Dash could see a hint of crimson on his muzzle. She had never seen the stallion so embarrassed; it actually piqued her interest before a more pressing matter disrupted her thoughts.

“Hey, Big Mac!” Dash shouted, “Were you the pony that pegged me with an apple?!”

“Eeyup,” the stallion admits.

Dash starts, then, “Why?!”

“Ah need ta talk with ya,” Big Mac replies, “if’n ya can come down here, please.”

“Dang it,” Dah moaned, “I was having a good nap…”

She sprung from her napping spot and flew down, landing softly in front of the massive stallion. She wore an expression that was equal parts pensive and annoyed. In normal circumstances, Applejack would be the one to buck apples up to Dash, only for the stunt flyer to pick them out of the air to devour them. It was a game they played as part of their friendly rivalry. Lately, with AJ sticking so close to Steve the Hooman, Dash hadn’t been able to play with her at their little diversion; she was also upset that one of her best friends had picked up her stallion.

“So,” Dash challenged, “what’s this about, anyway?”

Big Mac took a few calming breaths, for he looked like he was about to vomit, then opened and closed his mouth a few times; no words came out of his muzzle, though. He started to scratch at the ground with a forehoof, his eyes darting every which way but at Dash herself. Big Mac’s behavior was unnerving Dash but she couldn’t figure out why. After a whole minute of him staring at the ground and saying nothing, Dash had reached her limit and started to turn away. Then he spoke.

“Are ya doin’ anythin’ Friday night?”

Dash turned back around to face the stallion, her eyes bugged out in surprise.

“What?” Was her genius reply.

“Are ya doin’ anythin’ Friday night?” Mac asked again, “the harvest is near complete, and with Steve back on the mend an’ all, we should get all the apples harvested by late Thursday, early Friday. So, Ah was a-wonderin’ if’n ya wanted to grab some coffee at Sugarcube Corner, maybe catch that new film playin’ at Haystax? Ah hear it’s a real hootin’, hollerin’ comedy. Ah could use a few laughs, given all that’s happened round here as of late.”

“Are you,” Dash began to ask, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Big Mac nodded his head, adding, “Eeyup.”

Dash blushed a little; she had spent a significant amount of her time lately in pursuing Steven and she had never given any thought into a stallion stroking her affections. The fact that the nominally stoic Big Macintosh Apple had asked her out and was flustered to no end doing so, set off a warmth in her heart. While she still wished to seduce the hooman mage, she didn’t think she could do much worse when it came to stallions. Faust only knew that her selection in town was rather dismal.

“Okay, sure,” Dash answered, “but only if you can win against me in a hoof race!”

A sly smile formed on the larger stallion’s muzzle and he replied, “Let’s get it on!”

“This is fucking amazing!”

Okay, a little background for this moment here. After our little love making session, AJ, Shy, and myself returned to the Wolf Den to review the book Luna had sent me. This rather gargantuan tome was written in Olde Imperian, the language of the Empire before The Fall. I don’t believe many ponies now alive could read it and I hardly believe that even Hand That Mourns could. Some of the effects of my Reclamation was the new ability to read Olde Imperian, so when I saw the cover of the book, I instantly knew what the scribbles on the front meant. The title of the book was The Archmage’s Handbook and Arcane Library.

Now, it was exceedingly rare for any hard copy versions of Terran Imperial texts to exist after The Second Golden Age; every citizen of the Empire was given a Portable Holographic Adjunct Tablet (similar to one of those PDAs of the early XXIst century,) so most text documents and manuscripts were digitally converted and uploaded to The Ecumene. So this encyclopedia arcana was a rare treat indeed. After explaining what it was and what it contained to my partners, I began to read in earnest. That’s how I found the spell that loosely translates to “bounce house momentum.”

It wasn’t a true flying spell; apparently even Terran magic couldn’t break the laws of physics the way Equestrians can, but this spell would allow my bound for great stride and great length. I was originally going to call it “The Superman Spell” but knew none of my friends would get the reference and calling the “Pinkie Hop” jinx just wasn’t working for me. I eventually just declared it the Long Bounce Charm; that was how I found myself dashing from one end of Sweet Apple Acres to the other with little effort.

“Boy howdy,” AJ exclaimed, “ya sure figur’d that ole spell easy ‘nuff! Ya can dang near give Rainbow Dash a run for her bits!”

“It sure does look like fun,” Fluttershy declared, “I bet Pinkie would love to see you bound like that.”

“No kidding!” I said, coming in for a fast and dirty landing; I regret doing that because Shy and AJ got showered in dust when I did, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Shy said, “I was planning for a bath later today.”

“An’ Ah still got work ta do,” AJ added, “a little dust ain’t gonna hurt me none.”

I love my girls so much; they put up with so many of my eccentricities and never complain once! Well, they might still complain but usually when I’m out of earshot; that’s strictly my speculation on the matter, mind you. In any case, they have stuck with me through thick and thin, so I have to give them credit for being resilient.

“Okay,” I say, smiling, “I’m going to practice this cantrip a little more. It’s one of the more usual and fun spells in my repertoire. And then I’m going to try out that new technique Princess Luna wrote to me about.”

“I keep fergettin’ how cozy ya are with Princess Luna,” Applejack states, “how do that start out again?”

“I think it had something to do with he did during the Grand Galloping Gala,” Fluttershy answered, “he started getting letters from her after that.”

“And since the incident, I’ve been getting those more and more often,” I added, “one every other day, instead of one every other week.”

“Dang,” was all Applejack could say.

“Those letters have been forthcoming since The Incident,” Fluttershy said, “isn’t that right, Stevie.”

“Seems right,” I reply, “The Battle of The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters has stirred up some controversy. I would figure Blue would have plenty on her plate already, but she keeps sending my correspondence! I guess I made a good friend there.”

“I would say so!” Jackie beamed, “Ah think a thank ya letter is in order.”

“Halfway there, already,” quipped, “and if I can perfect this spell, I just might be able to deliver it myself!”

“But what about that trick Princess Luna told you about?” Flutters asked, “I wouldn’t mind seeing it.”

“Oh, right,” I said, “I almost forgot,” I readied myself than added, “I want you girls to close your eyes, please.”

They did as I asked, though I could see that Jackie was a bit hesitant.

“Okay, I want you to focus on my voice for a little bit, only on my voice, block out all other stimuli-”

“Stimuli?” Jackie asked.

“All other senses,” I explained, “just focus on my voice-” and all will be apparent soon enough.

“Stevie?” Flutters questioned, “What happened to your voice?”

Not much, I reply, but you can now open your eyes.

When they do open their eyes, they see nothing different.

“Okay, what’d ya’ll do?” AJ ponders.

Oh, nothing, I respond, then again, what I’m doing is not something that you can see.

Fluttershy gasps when she catches on.

“Stevie, are you- speaking in our thoughts?” She asks.

“What-?”

I am, is my answer, Luna taught me how to project my thoughts into your minds.

“I can hear ‘im talkin’,” AJ mutters, “but Ah ain’t seeing his lips move…”

“Because he doesn’t have to,” Fluttershy says, a bit mournfully, “Stevie can now ‘think’ to us.”

Why does that make you sad, Shy?

“Well, I always enjoy listening to you talk,” the Pegasus admits, “it makes me warm in my belly.”

“It’s also downright creepy,” AJ says with a shudder, “can ya’ll knock that off now?”

The incantation needed to produce the telepathic effect gets shut down and I say, “Sure thing, Jackie. I just wanted to demonstrate what I can do now.”

“Mighty proud of ya, darlin’” Jackie says, nuzzling me, “next time, though, a little warnin’.”

“Consider it done,” I assure, “now I need to try one last spell before I call it a day.”

“Oh, is it a fun little spell?” Shy asks me.

“Eh, not exactly,” I answer, “know where I can find a vacant valley with hardly anything in it?”

Note to self: Ultima, as a spell, requires a lot of room and a lot of mana to cast it. Star Valley is now pretty much a scorch mark and the explosion I rendered could likely be seen from orbit, or at least from Canterlot. I should expect a letter from either Blue or Princess Sunbutt asking what happened here. The good news? I discovered a treasure trove of gems for Rarity to play with. That should be make her very happy.

42 Reach Out And Touch Someone

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Alone at his post in the communications center of the Darjeeling Dyson Sphere, Chief Petty Officer Janal listens to the music of the stars. Well, to be more accurate, he is listening to the musical stars while his mind drifts deep into his subconscious. His recent promotion meant more pay, better accommodations, and more leeway for time off, but no one mentioned how boring Long Range Communications Relay was. He might have been daft to take the post without reading the fine print but some of the perks of it outweighed the mind numbing ennui. The best of those benefits, according to Janal, was the proximity he had to Governor General Latika, also known as the most stunning woman on all of Darjeeling.

The creak of wheels finally aroused Janal from his slumber. The squeaking could only come from the tea cart that his best friend, and member of House Genial, pushed on his nightly runs. Chai-walla Salim was a simple sort, on the surface, but if Janal was ever baffled by a maths problem or have issues recollecting some regulation or other, Salim was at his side with help. In a lot of ways, he was a better batman than Janal’s current adjunct, Petty Officer Aya. Aya was a competent NCO, using the loosest of definitions for “competent,” but she was more of a sycophant and was often too afraid to stand up for Janal or correct him when he was failing. He hated that woman with a passion.

“Good evening, Jana,” Salim said jovially, “I see you’re dreaming of the Governor General again.”

“What-?” Janal started, “I have no idea what you are talking about!”

“Tell that to the drool on your lapel,” Salim retorted, “so, a cuppa of something strong? LRCR can be pretty uneventful.”

Janal nods and gratefully takes the saucer and teacup of Salim hands him, “More so than usual, tonight. I don’t know why, on a still uncompleted Dyson Sphere, that we even have a Long Range Communications Relay. We haven’t heard anything from the Empire in millennia. Likely we never will.”

“I guess so,” Salim replied, pouring a cup for himself and setting back in one of the stations comfortable task chairs, “oh, Shiva, it’s no wonder you can fall asleep here! These seats are so comfy!”

“Yes, and if you stay in them long enough,” Janal began, “you get piles.”

“Oh, now that is lewd, even for you, Jana,” Salim cries, “why would you even say that?”

“My apologies, Sala,” Janal answers, “I am thoroughly filled with ennui and my mind has need to lash out.”

“Fair enough,” Salim says, then taking a sip of his drink, he adds, “this is some good chai.”

“You should know; you made it,” Janal says, then something appears on a monitor that hadn’t been there before, “‘special bulletin?’ Is the Governor General going to speak tonight?”

“That’s surprising,” Salim sneers, “a surprise announcement by the Governor General and you’re not prancing about like a silly cadet? The Universe must be in indigo shift…”

“Oh, shut it, Salim,” Janal shoots back before adjusting his position and looking at the monitor with the bulletin on it, “hmm? That is not a prefix codec I recognize…”

“What do you mean?” Salim asks.

“This,” Janal points to a string of alphanumeric characters on the screen, “this is not a Darjeeling prefix. It does not resemble any prefix I have ever seen.”

“It is not my place to tell you how to do your job,” Salim says with trepidation, “but do not answer that. There can be no good from an unknown prefix.”

“I’m answering it anyway…” Janal says, but before he can type in his ident, Salim has his arm clutched tightly.

“Janal, please…” the chai-wallah pleads.

“My friend,” Janal breathes, “if I don’t answer this, I might miss something important. Do you want another macro-arachnid incursion?”

“No,” Salim says, letting go of Janal, “I lost too many family members because of those creatures…”

“Then I must answer,” Janal states, “if only to cure my ennui and relieve the monotony…”

The chief petty officer enters in his ident. The screen shifts colors for a few moments, very slowly moving from through the red spectrum, then yellow, then finally to blue. As the screen reaches the end of the blue hues, a woman’s face, marked as an ancilla by the markings and translucent data flowing across her “skin,” appears.

The colonial capital of Lakshma is quiet and inactive at oh-four-thirty hours.

The streets are free of pedestrian and vehicular traffic, most especially in the vicinity of the Governor-General’s Palace. The only beings awake at this hour are the Palace retainers, specially handpicked Praetorian troops, walking rounds of the planet’s seat of power. Otherwise, the land is a whisper away from being loud. It is at this time that Governor-General Latima is wide awake.

The entertainment she had acquired earlier in the night was less than satisfactory. He had concluded his business with the austere woman many hours ago and was now sleeping of his orgasm. She, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves drawn taut. Even the droning hum of her *DIICCE, sliding from one page or another of official colonial documentation, could not drown out the constant anxiety she felt. On an otherwise hectic day, a full night’s rest was in order. The news that a recently established mountain outpost had gone dark caused a furor in an otherwise stable (or relatively thought of as so) colony. Yet…

Latima could find no rest. She found herself in a state of alertness that bordered on the obscene. There was little doubt that sleep would claim her this night; the prescribed sleeping draught she regularly consumed was of no help. As rest evaded her, she wondered if the Matron ever had nights like this. Not that she could ask, as the Empire had remained silent for the last twenty-five or so thousand years.

“There is not enough chai in all of Lakshmi to bring me to sleep tonight,” Latima confessed to the walls of her chambers, “I am awake and whole world is asleep, comfortable in the darkness that comes with the moons. It is indeed true that there shall be no rest for the wicked.”

A yawn stifled, belaying how exhausted the Governor-General truly was, escaped her lips. She would shake her head, in hope that the cogs associated with her sleep cycle would loosen enough to start turning, if not for the fact that her partner in bed was still slumbering. Neither was the option of leaving the bed, for her paramour of the night was nestled betwixt her legs and any shuffling my rouse him. (If she heard any more of the Proletariat man’s ramblings about his self-importance, she would find herself sorely tempted to summarily execute him. She might wring some sedition charges at a later, more convenient time.)

Latima was on the verge of giving up the farce of a good night’s sleep tonight when her P-HAT flashed a Priority Alpha message. The sender was someone in Long Range Communications Relay, an ill used station on the local Dyson Sphere. She had unsuccessfully tried to get the Colonial Congress to appropriate the necessary resources to complete the Sphere, so the Colony could properly begin launching expedition sorties into the local star system, but to no avail. And now, a message from The Sphere of great import. Tapping the message, she saw the face of the junior night watch commander, a young man she knew she had not attempted to bring in her bed chambers.

A moment hesitation followed the message prompt and then the young man spoke: “Governor-General, this is LRCR, Second Lieutenant Janal reporting. At approximately oh-three-thirty hours, a bulletin out of the Darjeeling prefix beamed in. The codec was unknown, but I answered, in the chance that it was another system’s Sphere reporting macro-arachnid activity. The bulletin was not a macro alert, but a relayed message from an ancilla- reportedly from Terra Firmé. I was given a passphrase to repeat to you: Phoenix Down. I am unsure what it means, but I was instructed to say thus by the ancilla The Hand That Mourns.”

The message could not have been clearer. “Phoenix Down” was a message from House Majestic, indicating that contact was requested immediately. Latima wasted no time, jumping from her bed, slipping into her battle dress uniform and sending a ping back to The Sphere. A moment later, The Sphere pinged back and handsome Lt. Janal was on the screen once more.

“G-Governor-Gen- General, good evening!”

“Not as good as I would prefer,” The Governor-General replied, “but this message you sent is utmost concern as of five minutes ago.”

“Understood, Governor-General,” Lt. Janal said, “I still have Hand That Mourns on the comm. Would you like me to patch you in?”

“Yes, Lieutenant, patch me in immediately,” Latika stated, “and give this communique the highest utmost encryption. There is not telling who might be listening in.”

“Aye, ma’am,” Janal replied, “encryption is already in progress with the stream, ma’am. Beta category, five-point-one-two terabyte encrypt. No latency currently detected.”

“Excellent, lieutenant, I’ll- wait, 5.12terabyte encrypt? Are you serious?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Janal answered, “straight from- hold on- straight from Solis Array.”

“That’s nearly four times our nominal encryption ratio…” Latika stated, “Ugh, I have not enough sleep for technical details. Patch me in, now.”

“You are live, Governor-General,” Janal said after a few moments and then visage of an ancilla filled Latika’s P-HAT screen.

“Good morn to you, Governor General,” the ancilla spoke, “I am The Hand That Mourns. Am I to assume you received the ‘Phoenix Down’ passphrase?”

“You are correct,” Latika said, “am I to assume that, after more than twenty-five millennia of silence, The Terran Empire is finally contacting the poor, old Darjeeling Colony?”

“You are partially correct,” Hand That Mourned answered, “more aptly, the sole current member of the Terran Provincial Commonwealth has tasked me with making contact with your people. There is much work to be done and a great deal of questions that must be answered.”

“A single member?” Latika asked, “That hardly seems enough to convene a Quorum or run the Empire.”

“It must stand for now,” Hand That Mourned replied, “For other members are otherwise- indisposed. As it is now, The Archmage of the Empire holds court.”

“The Archmage-?” Latika wondered, “There- there hasn’t been an Archmage in nearly a galaxy’s age…”

“Indeed,” Hand says, “House Endymion has been Returned, Acclimated, and Reclaimed. Soon, the follies of an older age shall naught but bones, to usher in a new Empire. A fresh start, if you will.”

“Understood, Mistress Hand. I stand waiting in position to receive orders,” Latika stated, “what is required of the colony under my command?”

“First off,” Hand That Mourns began, “how many of your colony are members of the tribe Proletariat?”

“If my recollection is correct, roughly 150,000 members of House Proletariat exist here on Lakshmi.”

“I see,” Hand replies, “well, your first orders are, to arouse all of your colony’s residents, save for those in Tribe Proletariat.”

“May I ask why?” Latima asks.

“The Proletariat Tribe has been expunged from The Ecumene,” Hands answers, “they must answer for their crimes.”

“Crimes?”

“Yes, Governor-General, Tribe Proletariat has committed felonies most egregious,” Hand explained, “the chief of these is Sedition Against The Empire.”

“These- these are serious charges,” Latika states, “wherein is the proof of their perfidy?”

“I shall show you,” Hand says, “but I regret to inform you that those charges will make for heavy reading, as their sins are most atrocious…”

At oh-eight-hundred hours, the entire populace of Colony Lakshmi had gathered in colonial center square. Half a billion souls, the majority of which were either House Hephaestus or House Praetorian, stood ready as they waited. A general assembly was called in the dead of night, awaking families from sound slumbers and barracked soldiers to ready state on only a few hours of sleep. The Governor-General and a young second lieutenant were standing at the assembly podium, neither looking especially alert. The Governor-General appeared as to have not slept in the last thirty-six hours, for she chugged down a mug nearly three times her size of her hand; the contents steamed, suggesting either a very strong tea or maybe a potent carafe of coffee.

Noticeably absent from the throng were the colony’s legislators and administrators. No one was sure why they were excluded from the proceedings. It was but one of the irregularities of this hastily called assembly. Thankfully, the crowd didn’t have to wait long for the Governor-General to speak. She rose from her seat, the only non-gilt chair on the podium, and stood front-center, as to address her people.

“Good morning, everyone,” Latika said, “I know that this is a rather unusual occurrence, so I don’t blame you for being less than alert at this hour. Although, given the weight of the information that thrust upon me much early in the morning, I dare report to you all is of paramount importance. So, I’ll try to brief and get to the heart of the matter:

“The Terran Empire we once knew is gone-” she said, then waited a few minutes to insure the murmuring of the throng subsided, “I know this comes as a shock to many of you. It was as unbelievable for me last night as it is to you this morning. Yet, I digress…

“At approximately oh-three-thirty hundred hours, The Colony of Lakshmi was contacted by a remnant of the Terran Empire. This remnant, a man who says he is of the long lost house of Endymion- yes, yes, I know, I hadn’t heard of it until last night, but if you’ll allow me to explain.

“This Imperial Remnant, who will be in contact with us shortly, has a message for all of us,” Latima explained, “the Empire as we know fell. This is why we have faced 25,000 years or so of isolation from our cradle world and government. The Empire was razed and it’s historical records purged from Terra Firmé; what remained of our nation fled from our cradle world and resettled on Terra Firma, a holding world. Since The Fall, the remaining citizens of the Empire have lived, and died, on Terra Firma, yet all records of their- our, great civilization were erased. They have thrived on Terra Firma but with no knowledge of the precursors and as such are as ignorant of our nation as the Plezio were of humanity. Now, one of the refugees, totally unlearned of his peoples heritage, has come back to Terra Firmé; he settled down on the planet of our birth and has made contact with an ancilla based off of an ancient House Apollo member.

“This ancilla has the entire written record of the Empire and has been teaching this Remnant about our society. It is also been discovered that he is last living descendant of the last Archmage of the Empire, Edwin Ambrose. For those who are confused, the Empire once boasted of a house of magic, that kept the Empire in equilibrium for almost all it’s million year existence. Then, sometime in the last 26,000 years, all of House Endymion died out- or so it is claimed. There is evidence that House- sorry, Tribe Proletariat is responsible for murdering every last member of House Endymion.

“If you were wondering why our brothers and sisters of that ‘house’ are not present with us, now you may begin to understand. The former house of Proletariat has been expunged from the Empire, for the high crimes of sedition, conspiracy against The Matron, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy against an Imperial House, extortion, bribery, coercion, embezzlement, multitudinous war crimes, and racketeering. Currently, all members of the Proletariat Tribe are being confined to quarters until further orders can be given.

“You may ask, ‘Why act against Proletariat now when their crimes have been in the past?’ I wish I could tell you that was true, but alas, the Proletariat have acted not just against The Empire, but against all of us here on Darjeeling. They have found ways of preventing us from completing the Dyson Sphere, have funneled resources and matérial to secret projects all across the colony, eliminated any who have ferreted out their deeds. This is but the beginning of their chicanery here. House Intelligentsia has been busy parsing through the record, discovering discrepancies hither and thither on the Colonial Register. Every inconsistency bears the mark of Ho- Tribe Proletariat.

“In the coming months, there shall be a significant shift of resources and personnel in effort to complete the construction of our Dyson Sphere. Shortly thereafter, we shall begin building shipyards and docking facilities for pangalactic travel-”

A swell of applause and joyous cries rang out from the assembled. So loud was the cacophony, that the Sect. General waited until the din died down enough for her voice to carry over it.

“I can understand your enthusiasm, truly, I do. And in the coming months, we will be restart our efforts to map this sector of the Galaxy, and in turn, begin a drive to reconnect with our Imperial home. That said, there is much work to be done between then and now. As the common axiom here so states, ‘the tiger never sleeps, when there is prey about.’ It is my hope that we all will endeavor to put forth our highest effort in achieving this goal. And now, it is my honor to introduce you to the guest of the hour. Please bring your ears and eyes to the holostage,” Latima motioned to the empty part of the dias that held dancing lights, reflective panels, and pylons of beam emitters behind her, “to The Archmage of the Terran Empire, Steven Edwin Ambrose.”

The crowd quieted immediately as the holostage began to generate the form of a young man, hardly thirty annuals old if the image was untampered with, wearing a set of robes like none on Darjeeling had seen before. The sigil of gibbous moon laid atop a larger crescent moon, with the star Polaris crowning the pair of satellites sat upon his left breast. No one living on Darjeeling had seen such sigil. The layered clothes hung loose in the younglings lanky frame, impressing on the populace of Darjeeling that his clothes were too large for him. Than he began to speak, and any doubt as to his age, bearing, or demeanor was laid to rest.

“Good morning, Darjeeling,” the young man said, “I- I am your brand spanking new Archmage… And I gotta tell you, it nice to finally see some human faces.

“No doubt, your Secretary-General has told you everything that’s been going on in the last few hours. The base treachery of your fellows must be a blow- I’m still having issues assessing just how much outrage I should feel given how badly Tribe Proletariat inflicted not just The Empire, but to humanity as a whole. I don’t know about you all, but as I started learning of our history, I began to feel resentful of the life that had been stolen from me… I would like to believe that was affront laid solely on me, but after making contact with your world, and others like it, I’m finding that the quill and coin crowd are equal opportunity bastards.

“Now, I’m not going to waste your precious time waxing bellicose on Tribe Proletariat. Especially when there’s more important matters to attend. So, I’ll cut to the chase. As of this moment, Darjeeling, and your lovely capitol city of Lakshma, have been an independent colony, well away from The Empire and any decrees issued from there. This of course means that your people are light years away and thus any news from Terra Firmé comes to you long after the fact. That flaw has been corrected, thanks to some new firmware and the reactivation of several Dyson Sphere relays in adjacent star systems.

“This is why I’m making the effort to place this call- broadcast- damn it, what in the Hell is this transmission called, anyway?”

A new voice, one only three people on Darjeeling have heard previously, answered.

“It is a holocasting, Archmage,” the voice said, “and you will need to be brief. Luna’s Moon is moving out of alignment in five minutes, eighteen seconds.”

“Gotcha, Hand,” the new Archmage says, then addressing the crowd, “right, brief it is. As a stand alone colony, you have managed to fare rather well without Imperial guidance. As it stands, there isn’t much of an Empire to guide you. That said, should your people choose to return to the bosom of your matronly nation, I will do my damnedest to allocate resources and material to do what you desperately need to do. Albeit, even if you decide against that, I will endeavor to send what I can while I can. So I am putting this to the people of Darjeeling: would you rather remain an independent colony or return to guidance of the Terran Empire, thus paying tribute to the Matron and the Twelve Houses?”

“We will need to make our decision with alacrity,” Latima said, “our window with you is now half over. So, lords and ladies of Lakshma, what say you? Stand alone among the stars or return to the bosom of Terra Firmé?”

The DIICCE units of nearly three million Lakshma citizens flashed on, as a tally was made. In seconds, the tally was completed, allowing the Secretary-General to record the results and codify them.

“The vote,” Latima stated, “is unanimously in favor of Rejoining The Empire. So say you all?”

In chorus, the citizens of Darjeeling replied, “SO SAY WE ALL.”

“So it written and so decided,” Latima said, “Archmage?”

“So shall it be done,” The Archmage replied, “I’ll be calling again soon. Until then, my Heart, Mind, and Soul are with you.”

He then performed a salute, touching the knuckles of his right fist to his forehead, then down to his heart, and then to his lips.

The populace repeated the gesture, saying, “AND OURS ARE WITH YOU, ALSO.”

43 The Melancholy of Sunset Shimmer

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From the Daily Journal of Steven Ambrose, Entry Number 118:

A quick note today. After taking a virtual tour of The Empire’s domain, I have a better understanding of just what is at stake if I fail to restore The Empire. There are billions of humans out there, spread out amongst the known cosmos, surviving, even thriving, on a hundred worlds spread out across the galaxy. Should The Empire not be be restored, these worlds may well fall into ruin; some already have. The planet of Caspian once held a vibrant society of Praetorian soldiers; now these same soldiers have waged steady and unyielding warfare against each other for the last ten millennia. They’ve eschewed their nominal equipment when they could no longer service it or repair for cruder, simpler gear. And don’t get me started on the castes they’ve devised amongst themselves… A planetoid of Intelligentsia survivors have developed a civilization of compulsive gamblers. I don’t even want to know how that came about…
Hand That Mourns has had me brief her on the people I’ve found through the holocasts, including detailed detailed analyses of their cultures, society, language, et cetera. It feels a lot like being back in Penn State, reciting results for my old Anthropology class. Granted, one of the many reasons for these contact sortees is to see how these individual colonies have fared. It’s also a means by which I can seek fellow members of House Endymion.
Historically speaking, House Endymion has been the smallest of the Imperial Houses since the founding of The Empire. We have always had the fewest members, but made up for that with our magical prowess. Strictly speaking, House Endymion is also the oldest House in The Empire. The Tribe of Wen’Ja was the first to organize itself long before the War of Ninety and Nine. Even given that Wen’Ja eventually became Endymion, the spirit of the tribe remains. Hand keeps reciting that fact to “help give me perspective,” whatever that means.
About the only thing of note happening thus far is Hand sending drones in search of pillars. I- Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck she’s looking for. She keeps harping on about eleven lost souls or something. I really haven’t a clue. The only thing that gets my attention about that is she thinks two of these “souls” have moved to Ponyville. Wonder what she means by that…

Meghan was in the middle of cleaning her clothes. The maid uniforms Mrs. Carousel had issued her, while ill fitting, were the only articles to her name that allowed the teenager to keep her modesty. She had lost her undergarments sometime back due to her nomadic tendencies since landing here and outgrowing them after so long. That training bra did manage to last her a long time, but three years is too long a stretch to keep her blossoming bust contained. She knew her active outdoor lifestyle on the ranch would leave her form rakish until teenage hormones kicked in; she never imagined being forced to be perpetually on the move during her teen years, so her current visage was less rakish, more womanly. (And that wasn’t because she kept indulging in her sweet tooth, though she was guilty of that, too.)

The rest of the town house was cleaned and dusted, the dishes from breakfast had been washed, bed linens changed, and the chimney swept clear of soot. All those chores left Meghan’s last remaining uniform completely dirty. The rest of her clothes were also in desperate need of washing, too, so she threw them all into the washbasin and scrubbed them down with the provided scrub board. The first few were already hung to dry but it would be hours before she was presentable to the world. Thankfully, the house Cookie Crumbles moved into at Ponyville was off the beaten path. She didn’t expect anyone or anypony to intrude on her solitude.

She didn’t expect Magnum and Cookie would be gone most of the afternoon. Something about an “acquisition” that they needed to pick up. Meghan hoped it wouldn’t be another of those gaudy vases that Cookie seemed so fond over. She was tempted on a weekly basis to break one of those things “on accident,” they were so hideous. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and think that the Carousels had bought her new clothes. As far as Meghan knew, human fashion and design styles hadn’t hit Equestria yet.

That was one of the many things she missed from back on Earth: clothes that fit, washing machines, dryers, television, her horse Buttercup… No, you stop right there, Meghan chided herself, you don’t know how long you’ve been away. Ma and Stepdad might have sold her, she could have died, any number of things could have happened to her. Just- don’t go there. The subject of her horse was but a small litany of things she didn’t want to think about, topped only by thoughts of her step-brother’s whereabouts and her half-sister’s current condition.

So when the rapping at the door of the Carousel townhouse came, it surprised Meghan, but not as much as one may expect. She knew that they were bound to return home eventually, she just never expected them this early. Wrapping a towel around her waist, and taking another for her bosom (Why are pony towels so dang small?!), Meghan left her laundry in the wash basin and strode to the door. She really wished she had a decent bathrobe to greet her employers in, but they didn’t think to get her one.

Upon opening of the door, Cookie and Magnum rushed inside, with an added party member in tow. Meghan barely got a fleeting glimpse of the figure before Magnum wrenches the door closed with his magic and quiet settles over the townhouse. Abashed, and wanting to avoid a scene with her employers, Meghan quickly dresses and grooms herself. After depositing the soiled towels, which she will inevitably have to wash later into the washroom hamper, Meghan steps out into the foyer where Magnum and Cookie over fussing over the figure she witnessed drag into the house.

“Oh, Meghan,” Magnum says, “you’re home! You won’t guess what- I should say, who, we got this afternoon!”

“Oh, Honey Dumplings, you’re spoiling the secret!” Cookie cooes, “but, since you’re already here and everything, we may as well.”

The two ponies nod to each other, then Cookie places her muzzle into the hood of the cowl wrapped around the other entity in the room. She whispers something, the entity at first shakes her head, but after further prompting from Cookie, the figure nods, and lifts two upper appendages to the edge of the cowl. Meghan stares in utter disbelief, watching as hands, human hands, draw the cowl away, and a mass of carroty hair in loose ringlets spill out. The figure then turns to face the older girl; recognition flashes across their visages.

The bright blue eyes, freckles across the bridge of the nose, the ladybug earrings that were her birthday present when last they were home. It- it just couldn’t be, but…

“Molly…!” Meghan whispers, before the two girls crash into each other in a heart rending embrace.

Sunset Shimmer was manning the circulation desk of the Golden Oak Library today. Twilight was out with her friends, doing whatever it was that The Elements of Harmony usually did, Spike was out on a play date with the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and Steven, her nominal verbal sparring partner, was doing- something. He mentioned doing some task or another for The Terran Commonwealth, leaving for the day; it was uncertain when he would return. That was probably for the best, all things considered.

Five years of magical, solitary confinement had left Sunset with a vague sense of loss of all the things that Equestria had been through. That also meant five years of birthdays, Hearth's Warming Days, Hearts and Hooves Days, and Summer Sun Celebrations that she missed. She was in dire need of a plan to catch up on all these events, and at present, this was what she was doing. The library was seeing negligible trade this day, so that left her plenty of time for her to contemplate on this. But, it also had the unfortunate side effect of leaving her open to half of decade of estruses that she had yet to experience. This driven distraction is why her notepad of ideas was mostly blank.

“Stupid heat,” Sunset grumbled, “has to come on a day when nopony is around. Can’t even ask Princess Sparkle if she has a cooler because she’s out gallivanting with The Elements. Faust, I hope a stallion doesn’t wonder in here or there’s going to be an ‘accident’ in the offing.”

The door to the library opened at that instant, the bell over the portal chiming, indicative of a patron visiting the repository. Sunset quickly stowed her notepad and quill, along with the lingering sense of arousal she was feeling, as a mare entered that she did not know. (Granted, this wasn’t saying much, because Sunset hadn’t availed herself of the town all that often, so she was unclear of all who resided in this hodunk town.) The mare appeared to be in middle age, with wide hips and some slight graying at her temples, but all in all, she was in fit shape for her day. A fellow unicorn, she had a chocolate chip cookie, bitten into at least once, as a cutie mark. The mare perused the shelves around the cooking section of the library with significant interest. Sunset watched the mare closely before speaking up.

“Hello,” she stated, “and welcome to the Golden Oak Library. How may I help you?”

“Oh!” The mystery mare exclaimed, “Are the librarian here?”

“No, ma’am,” Sunset answered, “I guess you could say I’m the- librarian’s assistant? I guess? But I know every book and shelf in this place, so if there’s something specific you were looking for but can’t find, I am definitely the pony to ask.”

“Oh, good!” The mare beamed, “I was looking for some sewing books and magazines. I need some help making some uniforms, you see?”

“Oh, I think I know what you mean,” Sunset replied, with a somewhat disingenuous grin, “like with the Filly Guide Scouts?”

“Oh, no, dearie,” the mare answered, “although, not that far off from the truth. Maybe it’s best I show you.”

“Show me?” Sunset asked.

“Yes, yes, might be better,” the mare said, before her face flared red with embarrassment, “oh, my, I am so terribly sorry, I don't even know your name, dearie!”

“I’m Sunset Shimmer.”

“Ah, I see. Good, good, now let me reciprocate. I am Cookie Crumbles. Well, Carousel Cookie Crumbles.”

“Are you from Canterlot?” Sunset inquired.

“Of late, yes,’ Cookie Crumbles stated, “born and raised there, but I’ve spent the majority of my life on the road, to be honest. Oh, but I’m getting off topic. I must show you why I need sewing material and such- Girls? Oh, girls! You can come in now!”

“Coming, Mrs. Carousel!” said a young voice from beyond the door.

Whatever Sunset was expecting crashed and burned upon the beings that entered into the library. Two humans, both females, one dressed in a Prench maid outfit that was so ill fitting the filly not only filled the thing but was nearly bursting out of it and the smaller one dressed in a similar manner, but the dress wore loose upon her tiny frame. The older of the pair wore her blonde mane in a plait, while the younger one had carrot colored ringlets that fell around her face, framing its heart shaped visage. Both seemed out of place in Ponyville.

“Now you see what I mean,” Cookie Crumbles said, “I need to see if I can mend one uniform and revise the other so my employees aren’t uncomfortable…”

“You really don’t have to go through this much trouble, Mrs. Carousel,” the older filly said.

“Nonsense!” Cookie Crumbles replied, “I know I’m not my oldest daughter but I can at least try to make those uniforms more presentable.”

“For any given definition of presentable,” the younger one quipped.

Mrs. Carousel smiled at the young one before turning her attention back to Sunset, “Might there be any such material here in this library?”

“I- do believe we have such references available,” Sunset said, then, “Wait. ‘Carousel?’ Do you have a daughter who’s light grey, with an indigo mane, a trio of blue diamonds as a cutie mark?”

Mrs. Carousel gasped, “Yes, yes I do! And she lives here in town! How did you know?”

“I’ve seen Ms. Carousel around before,” Sunset answered, “she comes in from time to time to check out the fashion magazines. And she’s friends with-” Sunset paused, not knowing if Princess Sparkle’s title was common knowledge yet, “she’s friends with the head librarian here. Good friends, I might add.”

“Oh, good!” Mrs. Carousel said, “I guess you can see where she gets her good looks.”

Sunset nodded, not willing to chance trying to vocalize an answer. Her eyes continued to stray to the two humans in her presence. As she started to beckon the older mare to the craft section of the library, the older of the humans spoke out.

“Excuse me, Miss Shimmer?”

“Um, yes, uh-?”

“Meghan, miss, Megan Williams.”

What an odd name.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Sunset asked.

“I was wondering,” Meghan began, “if you know of the human that supposedly lives around here? A man, possibly older than me?”

“I do know of a stal- I mean, man, yes,” Sunset replied, “he comes in from time to time.”

“Did- did he have reddish hair?” The younger one asked.

“Yes,” Sunset said, “very dark red hair, and green eyes.”

“Green eyes?” The younger one asked.

“That can’t be Danny,” Megan said to the younger filly, “but don’t give up hope yet, Molly. Danny has to be out there!”

“Danny?” Sunset asked. Danny?

“My step brother,” Megan answered, “and Molly’s half brother. They share the same father. He’s been- missing since we split up nearly a year ago.”

“I- I see,” Sunset said, “any particular reason why you’re asking for a- human male?”

“I was wondering-” Megan began, “I was wondering if he could help us. To find our brother.”

“Well, uh,” Sunset started, “Steven isn’t in town at the moment, but if you leave me your name and address-”

“They live with me,” Mrs. Carousel said, “and I’ll need a library card, so I guess you could lift my address from that.”

“Not- totally ethical but I can roll with that,” Sunset squeezed out, “well, let’s get you sorted, Mrs. Carousel Cookie Crumbles and, uh- if I hear anything from- from Steve. I’ll send word, I promise.”

The two sisters beamed at Sunset, the older one, Megan, adding, “Thank you, miss!”

The afternoon bore on, but still Sunset kept watch at her station. She hadn’t expected working as an adjunct to royalty meant taking on the position of bookstore clerk. Though, given the fact that Princess Sparkle was a die hard bibliophile, Sunset suspected that acting as an assistant librarian shouldn’t be too far a stretch. It did annoy her, though, that such a magical prodigy wasn’t solving the arcane mysteries of the universe or developing solutions to the trials of modern Equestrian existence.

Sunset’s downward spiral into ennui stopped when two beings entered the library: the very royal with whom she was slowly developing an intellectual quarrel with and- the human male named Steve. All thoughts about existential queries and various insults to her liege’s intellect were wiped away as the Terran Imperial Archmage swept into the building. He and The Princess were discussing something and in Sunset’s distracted state, she missed part of it. Forcing herself to concentrate, she was able to catch something of the discussion…

“…that’s preposterous!” Princess Sparkle stated, “No arcane spell work would require so little mana cost for such a significant expenditure of energy!”

“Hey, I don’t understand it myself, I just know that I can do it,” The Archmage argued, “also, case in point, arcanus sapiens operates under an entirely different set of principles than arcanus equus.”

“But how?” The Princess asked.

“The fundamental difference between how mana is regulated,” The Archmage answered, “unicorns, and by proxy alacorns, have an internal reservoir of mana that regenerates as they live; Equestrians are better adapted to absorbing ambient mana. Humans, on the other hand, have no internal reservoir and require an external source for mana generation. To wit: ponies draw from within, humans draw from without.”

“That still doesn’t explain anything!”

“I know it doesn’t, but I can’t cogently explain how my transformation enchantment works the way it does without the Equestrian need for- science. I'll endeavor to look within The Ecumene to see if there’s a better explanation, but that’s as good as you’re gonna get from me right now.”

“It still defies the Principles of Transfiguration,” Princess Sparkle said.

“The Schools of Discipline vary between our respective magical studies,” The Archmage said, “oh, hey, Sunny! How goes your war?”

“Oh, uh-” Sunset stumbled, uncertain how she got dragged into the conversation, “I guess I could be- better?”

“Are you feeling well, Sunset?” Princess Sparkle asked.

“Uh, well, this might not be the best time to tell you this, Princess, but-”

“Oh. Oh!”

“What’s going on?” The Archmage inquired, “and why do I smell lemons?”

“Uh, Steve, maybe you should head on home,” Princess Sparkle said, “Sunset and I- we have a- a research project? Yes, a research project we need to get completed before the end of the week. I may need to lockdown the library so we can focus on that. Yeah, so-”

“Oh, well,” The Archmage stated, “when you’re done with this ‘unnamed research project,’ we can continue to investigate what Lady Luna inquired of us. Though, I’m nonplussed as to why she wanted to know if I can accomplish a measure of transfiguration…”

“Yeah, that is a little weird-” The Princess mused.

“Well, I’m off,” The Archmage said, “I’ll catch you girls later.”

When the human left the library, Princess Sparkle turned to Sunset and asked, “How bad?”

“Really bad, but not quite Celestia Tier,” the wayward unicorn answered, “I have half a decade of estruses stored up; I’m lucky I didn’t throw myself against the human right then and there, it’s so strong.”

“Need a cooler?” Twilight asked, “Oh no! I think I left mine with Rarity!”

“Actually,” Sunset said, “you wouldn’t happen to have any heat medication? I thought I saw some when I was-” She paused, trying to find a way to figure out a way to say “rooting through” without sounding rude, “when I glanced at your medicine cabinet.”

The Princess gave her a look, almost as if she didn’t buy Sunset’s story, then said, “I think I may have some left. I'll get you some.”

“This way, Professor,” said the Royal Guard, of whom Nocturne had willfully neglected to learn their name, “just down this corridor.”

“I really don’t understand why the Princesses called me out a good sleep,” he murmured, “what good is a sleep deprived anthropologist, anyway?”

“I’m not sure, Professor,” the guard admitted, “all I know is that Princess Celestia and Luna specifically called upon you for an audience. Most ponies would give up all four of their hooves for such an event.”

“I don't know if you noticed,” Nocturn replied, adjusting his fedora with a wing tip, “but I am not most ponies.”

“That- that would be quite difficult to mistake, Professor,” the guard said, then he stopped upon a single, ornate door at the end of the corridor they had traversed. The guard raised a hoof to knock on the door. It was swiftly answered from within, though Nocturn didn’t hear it in his state. The guard pushed open the door with her magic.

“They’re ready for you now,” she said, “just go on inside.”

Nodding to the guard as he passed, Nocturne entered the spacious chamber. Tapestries of various ages of Equestria adorned the walls, a roaring fire set in a fireplace gave the room a source of light (and very little heat,) and the table that dominated the space was awash in fine linens and silver candelabras. Both princesses were reclining on poufs set aside for this occasion with an extra for the anthropology professor. A service tray in burnished silver with several steaming tea cups lay waiting.

“Ah, our guest has arrived,” Princess Celestia said, “please, Professor, won’t you sit down.”

“I had better,” Nocturne replied while taking a seat, “I’m liable to fall down at this point.”

“We apologize for waking you at this hour,” Princess Luna stated, “though you are not one of my ledrfladder, I do understand that khestrals have a regular sleep cycle that mimics it-”

“Close, Your Highness, close enough anyway,” Nocturne said brusquely, “I would be awake in a few hours, long before the moon rises, but yeah, a great many ponies confuse for a bat pony. It’s the wings, I think, as well as my general stealthy nature.”

“I did hear tale that Colonel Shywing attempted to recruit you,” Princess Celestia stated, “a pity, really. Your skill in the covert arts would make a fine specimen in the Coming Dawn.”

“I was never much of a military stallion,” Nocturne replied, “the rigidity and discipline are too much for me. I’m an intellectual, Zacherle damn it, not a toy soldier.”

“Ah, I see you’re familiar with the old gods,” Celestia cooes.

“It’s all part of my anthropology credentials,” Nocturne answered, “but you didn’t bring me out of a fine slumber to talk about hokey religions and ancient weapons now, did you?”

“We did not,” answers Princess Luna, “in fact, the subject of whom you will be studying is very much alive. Alive and residing in Equestria.”

“Well, how about that,” Nocturne stated, “no going out to some gryphon piss hole at theass end of the globe, huh? So, where am I going, who is my subject, and how much am I getting paid?”

“To the heart of the matter, then?” Celestia asked.

“Always, with politicians,” Nocturne replied, “if you don’t nip Blueblood’s posturing in the pastern, you’ll be there all day and some of the night while he bloviates.”

“I still don’t understand how Princess Platinum’s bloodline has sunk so low…” Luna muttered.

“Some other time, sister,” Celestia said, then to the professor, “as for your assignment, the subject of study is one Steven Edwin Ambrose-”

“Weird name for a pony,” Nocturne said.

“If he were a pony, yes,” Celestia continued, “now you get to use your expertise on humans to its utmost advantage.”

“Wait, I’m studying a human?!” Nocturne shouted, “Please tell me this is some sick joke…”

“It isn’t, Professor,” Luna corrected, “Sir Steven resides in Ponyville and while his manner is, to put it mildly, very abrasive, he has shown a propensity to protect the citizens there. Either from his own kind or from the creatures that emerge from the Everfree.”

Nocturne, having nothing to say about this, reached out for a tea cup and presently began to sip from it.

“I see from the way you’re taking your tea that you understand the gravity of the situation,” Celestia continued, “in essence, Mr. Ambrose is an unknown quantity amongst my- our ponies. We would like an assessment of his abilities, demeanor, and attitude. The Crowns of Equestria are authorized to offer you four times your yearly university salary for six months of investigation into the only known human of Equestria. You will also have a rather sizable budget for lab assistants, associate professors in your field, equipment, material, and supplies for the investigation. You can start as soon as you like but my sister and I urge you to begin as soon as you are able.”

Nearly choking on his tea, Nocturne coughed for a few moments while he digested all he was just told. A human, an honest to Zacherle and Faust human, living in Ponyville! While many in the Equestrian Royal Society of Science scoffed at his assertions of humans still in existence and chided his fellow colleagues about their work, the chance to actually observe one, almost in the wild, was an opportunity he was remiss to reject. And the setting for his investigation, Ponyville, was a rather hodunk town in a rural part of the Canterlot Demense along the Foal River. While cover would come at a premium, he could make do with what resided there. Besides, Ponyville was home to all kinds of madness, sitting so close to The Everfree Forest. A bat pony with over large wings, who would dismiss that as odd, in a town like that?

“I have some colleagues of mine who would champ at the bit for this,” Nocturne finally said after clearing his throat, “anything of consequence needed for field research we can acquire once we hit Ponyville. I understand Princess Twilight lives out that way, so the stores should have the necessary materials given her proclivities.”

“So, I take you accept?” Luna asked.

“I do,” Nocturne replied, “I’ll be on the next train.”

After being confined to a three decade (and a half) long existence without magic, it suffices to say that practicing arcane skills was something I had no real experience with. This in spite of the considerable casting i did during the Battle of The Royal Pony Sisters Castle. Don’t get me wrong here; I’m a proponent of practice making perfect. But I grew up with magic as illusions and escape artistry by David Blane, David Copperfield, as well as the acts of Penn & Teller, and Seigfried & Roy. SO actually casting spells, from a tome of magic spells, made by actual mages? Mind. Blown.

So, the purpose of my current practice session is to turn an apple into an orange. (I can practically here Jackie grinding her teeth.) Twilight has explained that this kind of magic is known as transformation. I looked up the definition of such in the tome I received from Princess Luna and the human definition is vastly different than how the Equestrian define it. For any pony with the arcane skill to cast a transformation spell, the caster turns a target into something else for a brief period of time. The spell has a specific casting cost not unlike Magic: The Gathering, but the mana has no alignment requirements. The human version varies in that, the mage doesn’t alter the target, the reality around the target is altered. For Twilight wants me to practice, I would need to commence with a transfiguration charm, which will alter the target.

“Well, here goes nothing,” I whisper, drawing upon the ambient mana of Equestria to build the charm’s matrices then cast it. I hear Twilight gasp as the casting completes (I had closed my eyes for focus,) and when I do peep a look at my red delicious mark, it is now a decidedly orange color. And shape. When Spike pokes a clawed finger into the flesh, orange juice bleeds out. He samples the liquid to confirm.

“Yup, that’s an orange,” Spike confirms for us.

“That was amazing,” Twilight breathes, “I know when you said that the mana requirements are different for hooman magic to function, but I didn’t realize just how efficient it is!”

“Why?” I ask, “Isn’t this spell sorta rote for you by now?”

“It is, but even with my new alicorn form, it still requires a lot of mana generation to make it work,” the book hoarse explains, “which reminds me, that wasn’t the kind of spell I was hoping to see. Why did it feel so different from what I used?”

“I think it might be the matrices to construct it?” I mused, “If I were to do a human mage version of transformation, you might have seen distortions around the apple, where reality had been warped to conform to what I wanted it to seem like. Transfiguration actually converts the target into what I want, but the charm is intricately woven and requires a new set of matrices for each new set of attributes I require for the change.”

“You just made that up, did you?” Spike asked.

“I might have, honestly,” I reply, “to be perfectly honest, I’m no Rhodes scholar or even a scholar of the arcane. Though, that would be cool becoming Stephen Strange. A surgeon and a master of mystic arts? Total badass. Uh, minor tangent aside, I’m mostly talking out of my ass about all of this. I guess it could be true, but I haven’t had the time to do a deep dive into it all.”

“Still, it is a rather masterful explanation,” Twilight added, “and a useful bit of adaptation. Are all hooman spells like this?”

“I think so?” I said, “There’s a lot less math and lot more instinct involved, from what you’ve told me Twilight. You Equestrians make magic sound like science and even have an entire field of study on it. I’m not sure that human magecraft works the same way, though with Kevin dropping in, I kinda have my hands full.”

“How is he, by the way?” Twilight asked.

“He’s- adapting,” I answer, “world of magic, check. Planet not unlike Earth, check. Magical, miniature, pastel equines with their own civilization? He’s still wrapping his head around that. Hand tells me he should be stable enough for Acclimation, but I want to get him a little healthier than he is now. I mean, he did spend three weeks roaming the White Tail woods with little food, no shelter, and the deer for company. He’s had worse but- there’s something off about him that I can’t quite place. Like, he’s older or something, then when I last saw or remember him. He’s been more lucid than we he turned up after Night Mare Night, but he’s still a ways from carrying on a lengthy conversation.”

“It’s kinda weird how he arrived here, ain’t it?” Spike said, “like, he just- teleported here or something.”

“That is striking me as rather ominous,” I add, “and he’s been talking in his sleep. Something about portals- and a lab? I can’t quite make heads or tails of it.”

“Well, I guess we should give him a little leeway in terms of explanations,” Twilight said, “he has been through a traumatic ordeal. I don’t want to break him or be the cause of a psychotic episode.”

“Greatly appreciated, Twilight,” I said, “now, let’s see what else I can do-” then add as Twilight and Spike shudder, “without causing massive amounts of destruction.”[br]

“Are you feeling relaxed, Stevie?”

“Any more relaxed and I might fall asleep.”

“Okay, good. Now, Hand That Mourns says you will need to get into this relaxed state for meditation. Treehugger once explained to me that in order to properly meditate, a pony must be in a state of almost trance like quality. Mind open, body calm, thoughts stilled.”

“I’d like to meet this Treehugger one day. She sounds like a nice mare but I don’t know if she’s ever had to quiet a mind like mine.”

“It’s okay, Stevie. Treehugger once told me it took her three whole weeks to get into the meditative state. The trick was to make the whole experience routine so you can reach it with little effort.”

“I guess I’ll be doing this a lot more often, then.”

“Mmhmm. Now, let’s try those breathing exercises. Breath deep through the snout… and out through your muzzle…”

“I have neither a snout or a muzzle, Shy.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Uh… Oh, yes! Let’s try this: breath in through your nose… and out through your mouth…”

“In through the nose- out through the mouth…”

“Exactly! Now keep that up. In through the sn- uh, nose. Out through the mu- mouth.”

“In through the nose… out through the mouth… getting myself calm, cool, collected…”

“Keep going, Stevie, you’re doing great! In through the nose and out through the mouth. Let our tension leave you as you exhale.”

“Solid copy. In through the nose- out through the mouth- In through the nose- out through the mou-”

Steven Edwin Ambrose, son of Clach Ethan Ambrose, long have I awaited your Return. Welcome![br]

I didn’t think I’d get into the meditative state so quickly, or during my first attempt. But it seems I achieved it. The figure in the mist of this plane is indistinct but certainly human. It’s not like when Luna sometimes visits my in sleep. The figure striding towards me is human in shape, but neither sex or human features are not resolving for me at the moment.

You are confused, but that is unavoidable. The rituals and rites of House Endymion have been lost in time and tide, no thanks to those of Tribe Proletariat. To have survived this long and still hold the mantle of Archmage is a feat I must congratulate you for. I had not known that any of my descendants had survived the Purge or the War. To see you here, with the Mantle upon you, is a feat I had not dared to dream about.

“That’s uh, that’s great and all, nice to know I had achieved something, but uh, I don’t know you from Adam.”

I would imagine not. My beloved Cornelia was able to evacuate… but i had not known she was with child. I am- more than a little surprised but I am also highly pleased. That my line should not die is a welcome boon, even within the hereafter.

“The hereafter? Seriously, this is confusing me to no end. You have the luxury of knowing my name, and that of my dad, but I don’t know yours. Just how are you, anyway?”

The figure finally emerges from the mist. Lo and behold, his face is one that is more than a little familiar to me.

“I am Edwin Ambrose, late of House Praetorian, the first Archmage in nearly an age until you were called, and, it seems, your paternal ancestor.”

“Wait, aren’t you the Ambrose I heard was assassinated?”

“I am. I had been called to serve as The Empire’s new Archmage, freshly vested and recently married when I was murdered. The Proletariat despised the idea of a renewed House Endymion; they would lose both power and prestige if such had come to pass. But, not that Empire has fallen low, Our House can be built up once again, not unlike the phoenixes that were the spirit animal of House Majesty.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll do my best at that. Already made contact with some of the far flung colonies the Empire once had. Quite a few are on board with linking up again, but here are a few hold outs.”

“If you seek my advice, I would say, ‘let them remain independent.’ Their autonomy may yield successful fruit- or not. Matron Gwendyln, my matron while Empire still lived, had seen her predecessor attempt to hold on to colonies that wanted nothing more from the Empire once they become fully self sustained. The results were- far less than optimal. A great many of Praetorian brethren perished in the fighting. Should you find the mMatron of your era, I would pass on such advice.”

“Duly noted.”

“Now that we have been introduced, is there anything you would want to know? I am certain that Valeria has answered as many questions about Our Empire but may not have the resources to uncover all the answers. As the former Primus Legate, I have had more than my fair share of knowledge pertaining to the Empire and it's holdings.”

“I can’t really think of many questions that I need answers for… Wiat, Valeria?”

“Yes. While I lived, she was a member of-”

“-House Anthro. Holy shit, Hand!”

“So, you have you encountered her?”

“In a fashion, I guess you could say. She’s now an ancilla called Hand That Mourns.”

“Ah, so fitting. I had not done so before I met Cornelia, but I knew Valeria was attracted to me. I can imagine she sees as much of me in you, seeing as you would so uncannily alike. Now, was there anything that piqued your interest about Our Empire?”

“Not really. But, I did have something in regards to the way Terra Firma operates. Why- why has there never been any mention of The Empire there? If the residents of Terra Firma are all descendants of Imperials, then why don’t they know about this?”

“I assume you know the old Imperial adage, ‘To the victors goes the spoils?’”

“I thought that was an ancient Roman proverb.”

“I know nothing of these ‘Romans,’ but the adage had been old when I was a lad, so it stands that it has been passed down through the ages. As for why the people of your cradle world know nothing of The Empire? I can only but speculate, albeit, I believe my speculation may have some kernels of truth to them. Namely, that The Proletariat got to Last Chance before the rest of the Exodus- yes, I know of those plans. I was there when they were drafted. I also know that House- no, Tribe, Proletariat had intended to relocate to Last Chance long before the Terran/Equestrian War. That they instigated the War was but a pretext for their evacuation, leaving the rest of the Empire to deal with the fallout. I can only assume they had plenty of time, centuries compared to the orbit that Best Chance has, to manipulate and coerce the simple residents Last Chance into believing that they represented some greater power- maybe some god or other that came close to fitting the Proletariat’s particular religious leanings, and used that to sour relations with the newly disaffected Imperials when they arrived. By assuming the class of priests or clerics, they affected the minds of the Last Chance denizens and thus caused persecution of the other houses as they transmitted onto Last Chance. That religious fervor, plus aeons of deception tactics and the rise of patriarchy, both of which are soundly against Imperial Principles, have caused your home world to be so chaotic and unruly. Granted, this is all grandiose speculation on my part.”

“Speculation or not, it makes a kind of wild sense. The religious nutjobs hold far more power than they should- Wait, are you telling me Christianity is a tool of the Proletariat?!”

“It may very well be. As a tool of control, programme, and propaganda, religion is such an excellent master of all three. It would not take much to work that into the civilization of the Terra Firma natives, allow that to grant The Proletariat such great control, and thus prevent any knowledge of The Arcane Empire of Terra to exist. It would also allow The Proletariat to create their own- fiefdom, I think is the best way to describe it. A system of government where they are the lords and masters of the world and all else serves them.”

“…son of a fucking BITCH!”

“Indeed. Should have any ties to any such organization that professes to have such leanings, I would suggest breaking away, poste haste.”

“Done and done. ARGGH! First, they deny my my birthright, then they fuck around with my people, now they created a bullshit cult in order to build and maintain control, politically and socially?! That- that- is bullshit! Complete and utter bullshit!!”

“As with most things the Proletariat are known for, yes, it is a confidence game of the highest order. Unfortunately, what time we have for such discussions is coming to an end. My descendant… Steven Edwin- you- you have earned my pride and admiration for becoming the new Archmage. Hells, you may even ascend to greater heights than I ever thought were possible… But that is neither here or no. Know this, though: you will need to defend your position from the machinations of Tribe Proletariat. No doubt that Valeria has done what she could to warna and prepare you for the coming Proletariat assault. What she may not have known, which was knowledge imparted unto to my by the last Imperial Matron, was that Trieb Proletariat cannot use magic. They are missing several key alleles and proteins in their genetic makeup that would allow them to coalesce, process, manipulate, and project mana in any way. The First Archmage of House Endymion tried everything she could to make them one with the Arcane, but to no avail. Thus, their quarrel with House Endymion and all aspects of Tribe Wen’Ja. All other members of The Empire possess these genetic markers and are thus able to use magic, to one degree or another. I would not surprised if The Proletariat try to murder you- convince to come to them willingly in order to perform the necessary experiments they need to finally become Mages. Do not allow them to sway you- that is how I was killed, going to a meeting with Supreme Chancellor of then House Proletariat.”

“They’ve already tried that. Didn’t end up as well for them as they would have liked. Seeing as I cast Ultima on them didn’t help all that much.”

“! You can cast Ultima?!”

“Yeah, I can. Why, you couldn’t?”

“It was- a spell beyond my comprehension. That is the kind of arcane skill on;ly possessed of- Grand Archmage… But, nobody has seen or heard from The Moochik in ages! He left The Empire shortly before the rising of House Proletariat, to spend time with his bride… To think that you have such skills…”

“This- sounds like a big deal.”

It is, Steven Edwin, it is. But we have not the time for that discourse. We will meet again, either in the realm of dreams or during another meditation session. Fare thee well, Archamge. Carry on, My Wayward Son…”

Kevin woke up in a cold sweat, which was a lot better than he had been waking up to for the last three weeks. Wrapped up in warm blankets with a soft pillow under his head, it the first time in his young life he could remember not waking up to dread or anxiety or a pain in his gulliver. The lack of a migraine was actually a rather pleasant surprise for him.

“Mama? Papa? Quien es?” He called out.

“Kevin?” cried out a voice nearby and when Kevin looked, he was met with dazzling green eyes, plenty of freckles, and cowboy hat- on a strangely shaped pony something.

“Huh?”

“Boy, howdy partner, Ah done thought you was gonna sleep all day. Glad to see ya making a rousin’ come back. Names Applejack by way.”

Kevin stares at the strange, orange colored creature for a moment, then says, “I think I would like to get off this train…”

44 Confessions: Princess Luna

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Celestia’s P.O.V.:

The morning had started out very well. The overnight intelligence briefing had proven rather enlightening, if a little stale. This morning’s breakfast was divine and the coffee was just the right amount of bracing. My retainer, Raven, had procured this morning’s Court Appointment List and it was blessedly short. It looked very much like an excellent morning. I could clear the docket with some expediency and then make for a long lunch, pending any disputes amongst petitioners. Considering the names on the list, I highly doubt that would be an occurrence.

Then I got hit with a surprise. A ledrfladder, one of Lulu’s retainers if my memory serves, approached my retinue. The bat pony was holding a scroll in his wings; upon seeing me, he stopped and bowed. I stopped as well, with the retinue following in turn. I looked upon the young retainer, my recall telling me his name was Waxing Crescent, noting his rather advanced rank of Captain. I began to wonder how my sister’s corps of ledrfladder were being trained and promoted when the young stallion spoke.

“Your Highness,” Capt. Crescent stated, “thine sister hast appointed thee to deliver this missive onto you.”

“Oh, thank you, Captain,” I said, taking the scroll from his wing in my magic.

“My Liege requests thou answer, poste haste,” Capt. Crescent said.

“Does she now?” I murmured, opening the scroll.

Unrolling the formal missive, I see that it’s an antiquated request for tea. It’s rather unorthodox of my sister to use this form, which she knows has been out of favor in The Court for more than six centuries. I must confess that I found myself nonplussed; Lulu has never been one for formality, which confused me about this request. Lulu has always been the more blunt and maladroit. It served us well during the formation of Equestria but was also the cause of a great number of diplomatic setbacks. So my warrior-proud sister was using Courtly Manners? Would wonders never cease?

“You may tell your liege that I shall be in attendance,” I told the young captain, “Day Court has a light docket today and I may just finish up before the noon repast.”

“I shall deliver this news at once,” Waxing Crescent said, bowing, “Your Highness.”

With that, he turned away and flew down the corridor, avoiding the sunlight pouring in from the stained glass windows. I felt sorry for the ledrfladder officer; most of his kind were not well adjusted to being awake during daylight hours. Maybe that is one reason Luna has them operating as her personal guard: the ledrfladder are better suited for nocturnal activity and have no fear of the dark with better night vision capabilities and their ability to project sonar screens to detect insects as well as avoid obstructions while in flight. And that poor dear doesn’t even have the protective filtration goggles on him. I hope Luna intends on giving that colt a raise…

I was prodded by Raven and then I realized that I have a court to attend. I turn back towards my retinue and smile. This is a silent acknowledgement that court is still to be held. The members of my court nod in response and we are underway again. It does take much longer to get to the throne room and see the line of some thirty ponies cued up for entry. Guards are in place to usher these nobles and Canterlot citizens into the grand chamber to see me. I nod to the doorstallion there, a unicorn, and he, along with his partner, marched onward to open the doors magically. The ponies in the cue bow in my presence as I stride past them. In turn, I give them a motherly smile.

Upon entering the throne room, Raven makes a beeline for the court stenographer. Type Ribbon has been a staple at court for the last thirty years. While the mare has gotten on in years, she still smiles and bows as I near. I smile in turn, craning my neck down to muzzle the old mare. I don’t recall my own granddame much, but if she was anything like Type Ribbon, I could consider myself most honored.

I turn away from Type Ribbon to ascend the dias to my throne. My sister’s throne, done in rich velvets of midnight blue and pale gold with gilded silver in the filigree, stands in stark contrast to mine. Though they are of similar heights, my throne appears larger because it is done up in bright golds and rich reds. I sweep a wing over my sister’s seat, a gesture I find myself doing more often since her return, then set down on my throne. Raven is there at my side, clipboard, quill, and an inkwell at the ready. I nod my head to my Sergeant-at-Arms to open the doors. It is time for The Day Court to begin…

For one thousand years, I have attended, and pronounced judgment, over The Day Court. From petty squabbles to land disputes, exploration charters and challenges to the law, I have presided over it all. With my sister returned to the land, I am now relegated to the morning session (with Lulu taking over the evening session,) it is a welcome break in the long tedium that I have come to endure.

Granted, addressing petitioners during Day Court has the potential for tedium. For example, this day: two nobles in contention over the zoning of a lot, The Royal Parliament debating an amendment to The Equestrian Royal Charter, a gift presented to me and my sister from the Ambassador of the Minotaurs (what in Equestria is a motorcycle?) and to round it all off, a formal request from The Equestrian Exploration Corps to chart the Undiscovered West, an area long since left to the imagination since- well, since Mother and Father died.

I should have denied the request, given the memories associated with that region and- humans, but I approved it. Even if The Archmage is the only human here in Equestria, he cannot very well give The Terran Empire a rebirth. Can he? A silly notion, though one I still struggle to answer. Besides, the foothills of Gloom Mountain, beyond Rockville, have some rather interesting geological features that may make for future Equestrian settlements. I may need to have some Royal Guard come along, with Coming Dawn troops interspersed within, to secure any potential human artifacts.

The Royal Archives are stuffed to bursting with all manner of human artifice, the more so to keep some over curious filly or colt from stumbling upon it. Many of these articles are inert, their power sources long since discharged or damaged beyond the capacity of Equestrian engineers to rebuild. As of late, due to what I believe to be the presence of our most recent ersatz citizen, some of these devices are beginning to stir. I wonder if they will detect a human in Equestria again? I highly doubt it. Previous tribes of humans have passed through my- our kingdom and these objects remained inert. That is a line of study for another time.

After dismissing a squabbling pair of nobles over mineral rights to a location already in the trust of the Family Pie (a clan I hope to never cross while their progeny live,) luncheon break is announced. I must see what has my sister in such a mood. And awake during daylight. After court and dreamwalking, Lulu never stays up longer than to have some fruity loops for breakfast along with a nice chamomile tea, then off to bed she goes. Already, my mind is alight with numerous scenarios, but I fear it is the one scenario above all others that is on my sister’s mind. And that worries me to no end.

Luncheon was already prepared by the time I reached the Royal Dining Room; so was Luna, in her regalia and beaming brightly. In front of her is a piece of parchment, a letter, actually. She pours over it, as if devouring every word on the page. A salad is set aside for her as part of her luncheon; she is eating heaping helpings of the dish on automatic pilot. I know of few of our subjects who would have the courage to write the princess of the night, so I am bemused to see Lulu so engrossed in the page’s contents. Then I see a small passage of the missive; the letters are not in Equus. They appear as some form of chained scrawl of a language that I am far from familiar with.

As much as I would not like to break the spell my sister is under, I do wish to eat. The discussion she has in mind has piqued my curiosity, also. So, walking in slowly, to mitigate the sound of my golden greaves striking the marble floors, I make my way to the dining table. My magic was able to slide my chair from the table soundlessly, and thus I sat down. Our porter, Maître De, showed up immediately. I placed an order for pancakes with whip cream, a fruit salad, and a small banana cake. Maître De ran off to give my order. In all that time, Lulu had not removed her face from the letter in front of her and continued to shovel food into her face. Occasionally, she would take a drink of either orange juice or coffee, but otherwise, did not let her concentration slip.

Maître De returns soon after with my lunch and a tea service. He fills my cup with a fine willow bark tea (the better to stave off migraines with,) serves the pancakes and fruit salad I asked for, then departs. I look towards my sister; she is still reading the letter, though she is no longer eating because she has no more food to eat. Her flagon is still regularly drawn to her muzzle. I take a moment to sip some tea, take a few bites of pancakes (ah, the joys of regency!) and then finally address the minotaur in the room.

“Good afternoon, Lulu,” I start, “it’s quite rare for you to be so chipper this early in your day.”

No response. I wait for a few minutes, taking bites of pancakes and fruit salad, but she doesn’t answer me.

“It is interesting that you are receiving correspondence,” I add, “I do not mean to pry, but I do have eyes and ears in the Royal Postal Service. They don’t report anything to me directly, nor do I get specific intelligence about what passes through Postal worker hooves. However, I do get the occasional brief concerning certain traffic that comes through. And yet, I was not made aware that you were in communication with anypony.”

“Anyone,” Luna corrects, “and of course you wouldn’t hear of my pen pal or our exchanges. I, too, have my agents in the Royal Post. Their letters come to me via - let us say, diplomatic channels.”

“Diplomatic channels?” I ask, “with whom, though? The Minotaur, the Yaks? Please don’t tell me you aren’t in contact with the Caribou…”

“No, no,” Luna replied, “and most certainly not. My pen pal is a relatively new ambassador who is a far more affable entity. And, thankfully, one that is not possessed of a giant sized ego.”

“A new ambassador?” I wondered, then it came to me, “you mean The Human.”

“Yes, Sir Steven,” Luna said, “and I really wish you wouldn’t hiss the term ‘human’ like unto an epithet. It is beneath your station to do so.”

“Forgive me, Lulu,” I responded, “even though Sir Steven has not shown the tendency for violence that I would expect from his fellow humans, yet I still have my misgivings.”

“Sir Steven did not give the order to kill Mother and Father,” Luna spoke tersely, “neither was he the one who planted the explosive that ended their lives. It has been twenty-five millennia since then and while I can understand your misgivings, Sir Steven should not be the target for them.”

“Is this what you wish to speak about?” I asked, “I have watched your mood improve ever since that performance in Ponyville during Nightmare Night. Does it have something to do with Sir Steven?”

Luna finally put down the letter and turned to me, “Indeed, it is. Especially after ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ play he put on. It was rather ingenious, with the use of props, magic, and technology to create such a fantastical world.”

“I would have gone with macabre,” I added, “but it was rather imaginative. To hear Sir Steven tell it, stories like that are very commonplace back in his Cradle World.”

“Indeed,” Luna replies, “as Sir Steven tells it, his people have an industry dedicated to the art of entertainment. Though, he does admit it feels more akin to, how did he say it? Ah, yes, ‘pan et circenses.’”

I swallowed a small draft of my tea before parsing what Lulu had told me, “‘Bread and circuses ?’”

”I believe so,” Lulu confirmed, “it is funny how often the phrases the humans use sound so similar to ancient Roaman terms. ‘Tis queer; methinks this could be a product of parallel development. But how…”

“Is this really a day for an etymology analysis?” I asked, “though I do have to admit there are some curious overlays.”

“Indeed, curious,” Lulu stated, “and I know from what communication passed onto me by the Elements and certain private citizens from Ponyville and the demesne beyond is very favorable to the performance. And, unlike most of the Canterlot nobles, I do not believe that Sir Steven is operating as an agent of chaos. Apparently, a significant number of the Old Guard are following the lead of Prince Blue Balls…”

“Blueblood,” I correct.

“That’s what I said,'' Lulu replied, “I am of the mind that he is someone in dire need of companionship; I can sympathize with his plight. From what he explained to me in our mail exchanges, he was never very sociable because of his mental disabilities. It appears that human civilization makes pariahs out of those who are not psychonormative. He was regarded as an undesirable and an ‘other.’ It harmed him in ways that we- I- am intimately familiar with.”

“Luna-”

“Even so, he and I are adjusting to a new era. And we are healing. You need not worry about my mental health.”

“Oh?” I asked, “and what are you doing to alleviate my worries?”

“I have taken the advice of Sir Steven and Lady Shywing; I have taken on a councilor of psychiatry and have regular meetings with them. If you have ever wondered where I go on Tuesday afternoons two hours before I hold court, you now know why. I have also taken to befriending members of the staff and even a few Canterlot denizens. Efforts are - well, to quote Sir Steven, ‘mileage may vary.’”

“Well, at least our resident human seems to be influencing you in a positive way,” I say, “and I am proud of you for seeking out help and friendship. Despite your prolonged absence from Equestrian society, it seems you are adjusting.”

“Maybe not quickly,” Luna admitted, “but Doctor Slip assures me that what I am doing is going along at a perfectly healthy pace.”

“Well, that is good to know,” I reply, “so, to what purpose did you request this unusual repast meeting?”

“Well,” Luna began, “Sir Steven and I have been coordinating our schedules.”

I was in the middle of sipping some tea when my sister said this, so I nearly choked on my tea.

“Co-coordinating your schedules? Whatever for?”

“Yes, and I’m hoping to have Sir Steven visit Canterlot on a less than official visit.”

“A date?!” I cry, “You. Are. Going. On. A Date?!”

Luna, who was busy reading another of the local human’s missives, stops, peering over the parchment in her arcane grip, and replies, “Hmm, I guess so.”

I shake my head in utter disbelief.

“And may I ask why? I have it on good authority that there are more than a few courtiers seeking your favor. So, why The Human?”

“The courtiers, dear sister, are gold diggers,” Luna explained, “courting me and becoming one of my consorts is but a stepping stone for their ambitions. Or their fortunes. And those few hoping to improve their fortunes are already fairly wealthy. Sir Steven has no such pretense and I do not believe he ever will need such pretense.”

“‘Gold diggers?’” I ask.

“Aye,” my sister answers, “ponies that seek bits without any effort, typically through a marriage of convience. There would be no love, no respect, and no respect. I have no desire to be engaged in such a way. Whilst I do not know if Sir Steven feels the same way, I do wish to pursue him in that way.”

“Sister…” I murmur.

“Tia,” Luna begins, “as co-regent of this nation, I ask that you respect my decisions, whether political, social, or personal. I have never, or I believe I have never, interfered with your life and the myriad of decisions you have made regarding our nation or yourself. I hope that you shall do the same, though history has shown that there is precedent for your interference.”

“Lulu…” I sighed, “I am- to be honest, I’m uncomfortable with your choice of paramour, but given how my- let’s call it poor reaction, to your previous courtship was one of the factors that resulted in your transformation into Night Mare Moon. I vowed, after banishing you to your moon, that I would not ignore your concerns but neither would I meddle in your affairs. I don’t think I’ll understand your choices, Faust only knows what you’re thinking, but I shan’t play plot punter against you. I- don’t think I’m ready to give my blessing to this union, but I will never interfere with your plans.”

“I thank you, sister,” Lulu said, “while your blessing would be welcome, I have not deluded myself into thinking I may need it. Even so, should you find a consort that is unorthodox, you shall find in me a staunch ally.”

“I’ll- keep that under my crown,” I reply, “ugh, I just know this will start rumors amongst the courts, let alone the citizens of Canterlot.”

“Do you fear the gossip rags, Sister?” Luna asks me, “Let them report what they may. I have learned that denying the facts to such muckrakers, the worse the rumors they will report. If worse comes to worse, we can arrange a press conference to address those rumors.”

“Let us hope it never comes to that,” I breathe, “though I’m certain that it will in one fashion or another.”

“All the more reason why I must pave the way for Sir Steven’s first, official visit to Canterlot,” Luna stated, “we have assigned him the role of AMbassador to the Arcane Empire, so it would not be ill-advised to grant him a full diplomatic visitation, would it not?”

I opened my muzzle to protest, but my memory recalled all the other visitations of the lone human to Equestria’s capital city; these informal and often unofficial jaunts had no particular state endorsements. Luna had managed to one up me in brinkmanship.

“Touche, sister,” I reply, “no state sponsored visit has been made thus far. And more than a few ponies know of your bipedal resident. A national visit to the capital would help out quite well for ourselves and the ponies in general.”

“Indeed,” Lulu agreed, “and even you must agree that everypony needs a friend.”

Nonplussed, I say, “you’ll find no disagreement with me on this but do you mean to introduce The Human to more ponies as a means of- what, social networking?”

Luna nodded, adding, “Sir Steven has told me of the kinds of socializing his people do. Something called ‘Facetome?’ And another called ‘Tweeter?’ I am unsure what these are. Sir Steven tried to explain the concepts to me but the terms he used hold no meaning to me. I would say that humanity has developed a means to make contact with others from a considerably greater range than we Equestrians have.”

“Are humans that far apart from each other?” I ask, “so that no one family has any neighbors to socialize with?”

“Neigh,” Luna replied, “the exact opposite. Sir Steven explained to me that his people have cities with populations on par with Manehattan, albeit on a much grander scale.”

“How much of a grander scale?” I ask.

“From memory, Manehattan covers some two hundred square acres of space,” Luna said, “Sir Steven was uncertain of the total acreage of one his world’s largest city, strangely referred to as ‘New York City,’ has well over one hundred thousand square acres of coverage, covering no less than five counties. And the central hub of this metropolis is called, confusingly, ‘Manhattan.’ Sir Steven believes that name originates from an indigenous people native to the region…”

“Humans don't do anything by half, do they?” I retorted.

“I haven’t seen everything humanity has done,” Lulu said, “but I have to believe that humans do so as a testament to their tenacity. I mean, they don’t have magic. At least, in Sir Steven’s cradle world.”

“You speak of The Human with such… fondness, Lulu,” I said, “I am having some trouble discerning whether you are speaking of him in terms of admiration- or infatuation.”

Lulu didn’t reply, but a subtle blush spread across her muzzle. This was becoming something I would need to take action on. I know I shouldn’t interfere with my sister’s attempts to fraternize with others. Even so, I didn’t want my sister to fall down a rabbit hole. I was walking the line of protective matriarch and caring sister. Indeed, heavy is the head that wears the crown…

“You haven’t spoken much with Sir Steven much, have you, Tia?”

The question threw me for a loop. In my own opinion, humans are too dangerous to be allowed any kind of parlay with even the most base Equestrian citizen, let alone royalty. What my sister is suggesting is something I would never even consider. The Human has atavistic tendencies which frighten me to no end. During our last interaction, The Human was cordial if a little terse. Even so, I have my misgivings about his introduction into Equestrian society proper.

“I’ll be honest, Lulu, I have no real intention of speaking with The Human,” I replied, “and I find it difficult to imagine how a conversation between myself and him would come out. I’m still unsure how he interacts with my protege.”

“From the letters Princess Twilight has sent me,” Lulu said, “Sir Steven is- well, to be honest, rather blunt. Blunt, profane, and sarcastic, that is Sir Steven. Even so, I would have no greater companion than him. And even Lady Shywing has had the most complimentary of his behavior. And, contrary to some of what I remember of the humans prior to my exile, Sir Steven is very hardworking. Miss Apple has been gushing about his work ethic.”

“Such high praise,” I remark, “and from no less than three of the Element Bearers speak so highly of him. But Lulu are you certain that this won’t blew up in your face?”

Lulu threw me a dour look, closed her eyes, and let a snort blow through her snout.

“‘I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be than me,’” Lulu then spoke, “true words from the wisest of - men.”

It was plain to me, in spite of my reservations and horror, that Lulu has fallen hard and fast for The Human. My vow not to deliberately interfere with Lulu’s choices has come back to haunt me. For better or worse, I shan’t intervene. I just hope that this doesn’t come to a bad end.