> Recherche
>  by Crescent Pulsar
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: Hearing Voices is a Rarity? Ha!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramen, or ravioli?

That was the question that Marshall March was faced with as he stood in the kitchenette of his apartment, considering the two aforementioned items on the counter. One of them would become his dinner, if one could call either that, but he was having trouble deciding on which one to choose because he was in a mood for neither.

It wasn't so much his tight budget that had led to this situation, despite its own contribution, but because he worked the second shift. Since various places of importance and convenience were only accessible during the day, or before his shift ended, he'd chosen to forgo the lifestyle of a night owl. As such, he only ate enough to sate his hunger, to avoid indigestion while he tried to sleep. That, and he'd heard that it wasn't all that healthy to sleep while digesting food, and he could do without the extra calories sticking around.

While his weight wasn't a major issue at the moment, even though he was — and had always been — overweight, he could easily gain weight if he wasn't careful, all thanks to the genes that he had inherited from his parents. Since he was a bit touchy about his weight, due to some of the mistreatment that he had received as a child by his peers, he made an effort to keep it down, lest anyone decided to call him "Marshmallow" again, or say "The March of the Marshmallow" as he passed them by. While highly unlikely to happen now, he had been "bitten" too often at an impressionable age to not shy away from the mere possibility.

He was tempted to get something better to eat, because there were certainly better choices than ramen and ravioli available, but he'd made a habit of switching between the good stuff and the not-so-good stuff, in order to avoid eating the latter on consecutive days instead of every other day. Unfortunately, the healthier — and tastier, sometimes — foods tended to be more expensive, so he'd had to make this sort of compromise with his diet.

When he finally came to a decision and began to reach for the packet of ramen, in order to put it away, he was struck by a mild sense of vertigo, and a sensation in his head that could only be described as "fuzzy." The experience only lasted for an instant, but it was more than enough to make him pause and wonder about it, and wait to see if anything more would occur. When nothing further happened, he figured that it wasn't anything to worry about and resumed his prior course of action.

After returning the packet of ramen to the top of the refrigerator, with the others of its kind, he heard an unfamiliar — but distinctly feminine — voice enthusiastically say, "Oooo; now this looks promising."

Startled, Marshall turned about and swept his gaze around the main room of his apartment, as he tried to ascertain the source of the voice, feeling nervous despite his attempts to stay calm. His living room was lightly furnished, mainly consisting of an entertainment center, a bookcase, and a matching loveseat and armchair that was set around a low table, so he only had to move around a little to be pretty sure that no one could be hiding in that portion of the room. With the front door secured, the bedroom and bathroom doors closed, and seeing no place for someone to hide in the kitchenette with him, his nervousness began to give way to confusion.

Not long after he had decided to write the whole thing off, thinking that the voice must have come from one of the other apartments despite its volume and clarity, the voice returned, sounding a bit awed as it said, "This is simply amazing. I'm seeing so many familiar things, yet many are unfamiliar as well." The voice proceeded to sound more level as its train of thought changed. "This room is rather dull, though... Which isn't helped by all of the understated colors. I wonder: could that just be what's normal for this world?"

Not knowing what to think about this development, but desiring a rational explanation, Marshall did his best to quell his anxiety while he looked for something that could explain the voice that he had heard, since he didn't like the idea that the source could be his own mind. As unlikely as it was to be pranked in this way, especially considering the criminal element that would be involved, he was well aware that people could go to ridiculous lengths for the sake of posting a video of it on the Internet.

With that last thought in mind, and the voice wondering about his actions while he was checking around for something that could transmit sound, he began to look for a hidden camera, which would explain how someone could know what he was doing as he was doing it. However, after checking every place that would have a good view of the room, he didn't find anything resembling a device that could make a video recording.

More worrying, however, was that he had finally noticed the unchanging quality of the voice, as if it was unaffected by distance, or anything that would affect sound waves in some way. It was hardly his area of expertise, though, so he wasn't too sure if what he was hearing was truly strange for his environment, especially if someone knew what they were doing when it came to the science of acoustics.

Then, a possible explanation occurred to him, and he could have hit the side of his head with the heel of his palm for not thinking of it sooner, even though he was pretty confident that he would have noticed such a thing. Unfortunately, after inspecting his ears, and checking the areas beyond them when he found nothing unusual in or immediately around them, he finally began to seriously consider that the voice may have an internal origin.

He'd much rather believe that someone else wanted him to think that he was going crazy, and thus wanted more information and evidence before making any conclusions about his own sanity, so he maintained his cool and decided to go to his bedroom, where his computer was located. He hoped that he could find something helpful on the Internet, since it'd be awkward to bring up such a subject with his parents, which could cause them to worry unnecessarily if everything turned out to be fine. It was also preferable to seeing a doctor about it, since he didn't have a good impression regarding what could happen to people when the "experts" decided that they weren't capable of functioning independently.

Before heading into his bedroom, however, his stomach dictated that he put something into it before it got too late. So, he got himself a bowl from the cupboard, filled it with ravioli, then placed it in the microwave for a two-minute cooking session. Of course, while he was doing that, the voice was unrelenting with its presence, wondering about the filling of the ravioli that he was going to eat, and the contraption that made the bowl rotate within it.

Due to the voice's apparent ignorance concerning such well-known things, especially considering how articulate it was, he couldn't help being curious about it. If the voice was being done by another person, the character choice wasn't the sort that he would have expected, insofar as its purpose was concerned. On the other hand, in the case that it happened to be another personality in his head, it was kind of odd how it didn't know things that he knew, unless — for whatever reason — it was all pretend. The fact that the voice was of a feminine nature was also curious, but he didn't know what to think about that, or whether it would be beneficial to explore what it could mean.

When he entered his bedroom and turned on the overhead light, the voice's commentary made him aware that his actions could still be seen, so he spared his bedroom a cursory glance as he stood by his desk and woke his computer up, wanting to find something but doubtful that anything would be found even with greater scrutiny. Aside from a dresser, hamper, small trash bin, a full-size bed and the desk beside him, his room was rather spartan. It certainly didn't win any awards with the voice, if he was any judge of the verdicts that were being issued by it.

Once he settled into his swivel chair and rotated it to face his desk, he started his browser and entered his query into Google. Suddenly, right when the results of said query were displayed, the voice gasped in shock before deliberately saying, "It's... It's trying to confirm if it's hearing voices...?" There was a pause before the voice, in a mildly tremulous tone, apprehensively asked, "Um... Hello? Can you hear me?"

Unsure of what to do, Marshall didn't immediately respond to the voice's question. After all, if he was being pranked, he could very well fall into the prankster's trap, which would result in a "gotcha" scenario. While he could tolerate such a thing happening, he'd rather not have to deal with it at all. However, should the voice be of his own mind's making, would acknowledging it be a good idea?

After some rumination, by which time the voice had begun to express its doubts regarding his awareness of it, he decided that not knowing would be more bothersome than his other options, especially if the voice didn't abate any time soon. In addition to that, though, it occurred to him that it might be more interesting to learn what kind of character his mind had managed to fabricate all on its own, if that turned out to be the case.

In order to prepare himself for whatever might happen after addressing the voice, he leaned back in his chair and took a calming breath. Unfortunately, with his focus on that, he forgot to think of something more eloquent to say than, "Uh... Hi?"

The silence that followed was deafening, but it didn't last for long, which wasn't surprising considering the barely-contained excitement in the voice's, well, voice. "Oh my! Can you hear me, after all?"

"...I suppose so?" Marshall answered carefully.

That seemed to release the floodgates of the voice's tempered feelings, who squealed with glee before animatedly saying, "That is wonderful news! I didn't even know that such a thing was possible." The voice's tone turned contemplative as it continued to speak. "Hmmmm... Well, Twilight hadn't specifically mentioned that communication would be impossible." Then, the voice began to sound upbeat again as it went on to say, "Still, after so many failures, being able to communicate with the host should more than make up for them."

"Host?" Marshall asked, not liking the sound of that, even though he wasn't ready to believe the reason behind his concern being possible. "You're not some kind of parasite, are you?"

"Heavens, no!" Came the voice's reply, sounding scandalized, before it settled down and calmly explained, "By 'host,' I mean to say that I'm a guest."

Unable to help himself, a corner of Marshall's mouth quirked up in response to an impromptu bout of mischievousness, which was inspired — in part — by a coping mechanism. "What am I getting out of the deal, then?"

There was an awkward stretch of silence before the voice cleared its throat and airily said, "Why, the pleasure of my company, of course."

Marshall chuckled at that, which evoked some giggles from the voice. Feeling that the time was right to pursue the matter of what was happening directly, he asked, "So, if you're a guest, are you saying that this isn't some sort of prank, or a figment of my imagination?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," the voice affirmed. "My name is Rarity, and I am a unicorn who hails from the fair land of Equestria."

That's when the alarm on the microwave went off.
> Chapter 2: Hopefully Insane
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Marshall stood up from his chair and made his way to the microwave in silence, disappointed by the direction that his short conversation with "Rarity" had gone. He had been hoping to draw out a prankster, and end her prank so he could eat and relax in peace, but — if a prankster was what she was — she appeared to be keen on drawing things out longer. Of course, it could just be that he had gone crazy, but he wasn't ready to entertain the thought of that being possible just yet.

He considered confronting her about what he thought she was doing, but he really wasn't the type to do that. Besides which, she could simply be stubborn and have her fun until she got bored, regardless of what he said or did. It wasn't like he had anything to leverage against her, after all. Sure, he could call the police, but what if they didn't hear the voice, or find whatever means was being utilized so only he could hear it? For all that he knew, that kind of scenario might land him in a mental institution, lest he dropped his case instead of insisting on what he was hearing.

Unless it was a part of her act, Rarity seemed to realize why no response was forthcoming, because she thoughtfully muttered, "No, I don't suppose that what I said would be easy to accept if you're already worried about pranksters, much less the state of your mind..."

While Marshall found her words somewhat interesting, he was more intent on eating, now that his ravioli was ready for consumption. It wasn't like he knew what to say, anyway; that, or whether he should continue to converse with her. He was really out of his depth on the matter, so it was easier to focus on something that he understood: sating his hunger with food.

Once he had his bowl of ravioli in hand, and procured a fork with which to eat it with, he opted to partake of his meal at his computer desk. It wasn't where he usually ate, because he preferred the comfort of the chairs in the living room, but sometimes something on the Internet demanded his attention. In this case, however, he didn't think that Rarity would be all that compatible with a full-length movie, or listening to music, so short and/or semi-interesting entertainment would have to suffice, and the Internet was rife with that.

After he was settled in his desk chair, with his bowl of ravioli set aside for the moment, he began to consider his list of Youtube bookmarks, trying to decide on what channel to look at for a video. He eventually decided on one of the Let's Play channels, the videos of which he often put on so he could listen to them while he did other things, since there was usually a disconnect between the topic of conversation and the action in the game that was being played. If anything interesting came up, that required visual input, he could easily go back and watch that part of the video properly whenever he could pull himself away from whatever else he had been doing.

With a video chosen, which featured Kirby's Epic Yarn, he retrieved his ravioli, leaned against the back of his chair, and began to eat while he watched it. However, not long after he had begun, did Rarity venture to speak once more, who sounded distracted as she asked, "What are those dumplings filled with? I don't recall seeing it used with ravioli before."

Marshall mulled over whether he should reply to her or not, and began to chew more slowly so he could give himself more time to come to a decision. The question made him curious, though, since the contents of his ravioli was rather common knowledge. Plus, his situation could have been worse: he could have been dealing with someone obnoxious or malicious, rather than someone asking innocuous questions.

In the end, he decided that it might not hurt to see where things went, so — after he swallowed the last of what he had been chewing — he simply said, "It's beef."

"Beef?" Rarity echoed, the cluelessness tinging her voice sounding genuine. "What is that?"

Since it was too late not to, Marshall decided to humor her, and made an effort to not sound condescending while doing so. "It's meat from a cow."

Rarity's response was noticeably belated, and the unease obvious in her voice when she next spoke. "So... You're a carnivore, then? You don't... eat horses, do you?" As an afterthought, she quickly added, "If they exist there, I mean."

After finishing off another piece of ravioli, Marshall took a few seconds to consider how he should reply to that, since he recalled her claim of being a unicorn. "Humans are omnivores, actually," he both corrected her and temporized. "And while we could eat horses, and it's likely that some of us probably do, I think most of us would rather not."

"Oh?" Rarity replied, who seemed to be caught between relief and — probably despite herself, by the sound of it — curiosity. "Why not?"

Marshall spared a moment to think about his response, since he didn't want to upset her, whether she was what she said she was or not. It could still happen if he was talking to a person who was taking their role seriously enough, and he really didn't want to deal with that. "Well, unlike humans... and unicorns, horses aren't a sapient species here — just so you know. They were really useful for things other than food, especially in regard to transportation and battle, so we're pretty fond of them."

By her tone, Rarity seemed to have mixed feelings about what he had said. "Battle? Do your horses... see battle often?"

At this point, Marshall was finding it a bit silly to be playing along, especially when the other party seemed so serious, but he was also beginning to find their exchange a little entertaining. There were worse ways to pass the time, particularly during the part of the day that he usually reserved for unwinding, so it really wasn't hurting anything, even though he still worried about the source of it. However, he also had the thought that — just maybe — he'd end up being thanked for being a good sport by the time that he was ready for bed, and that would be the end of his experience with "Rarity." It was something to hope for, at any rate.

"They used to," he replied, as he readied a piece of ravioli in front of his mouth. "I'd be really surprised if they did now, though." He took a few seconds to eat his ravioli, and continued speaking just as soon as he'd swallowed the last of it. "They've largely been replaced as a preferable means of transportation, too." He paused when a thought occurred to him, and decided to take the initiative, just to see what would happen. "Say, would you like to see what our horses look like? I mean, since you're a unicorn from another world and all that?"

Either due to being caught off guard by the question, or having something on her mind, if not both of those things, Rarity awkwardly replied with, "Oh, um... Sure."

Leaving his fork in the bowl, Marshall moved his now-free hand to the mouse and opened up a new tab in his browser. After setting Google to show images, he typed in "horse" and pressed the "enter" key to show the results. It was only then that it occurred to him to worry about what kind of images might appear, but — fortunately — the ones that could initially be seen were normal and tasteful. Well, aside from the one that showed a mask of a horse's head, which looked kind of weird.

"Hmmmm..." Rarity hummed analytically, once a picture of a horse in mid-gallop was selected for a better view. "While we don't look exactly like your horses, the similarities are certainly there. However, I can't help feeling that I've seen this kind of horse before..." When the answer to her own query eluded her, she switched gears and asked, "Anyway, do you have unicorns or pegasi in your world? I didn't see any among the pictures that I saw."

Once his mouth was emptied of ravioli, Marshall said, "Nope. Well, not outside of myths and fiction, anyway."

"Really?" Came Rarity's rhetorical response, before inquiring, "How are they depicted?"

Marshall shrugged his shoulders out of reflex, assuming — hoping, really — that the gesture could be seen, even though he didn't care much about being observed. Still, it was better than being mental. "Without looking anything up, all I can say is that the pegasus is a flying horse, and I believe that it was the only one of its kind in the original mythology. Unicorns have a horn on their head, which — I think — was thought to be a cure-all, and they are a symbol of purity."

Instead of an immediate reply, he had enough time to eat two more portions of ravioli before Rarity spoke again, who sounded quite agitated as she said, "Oh, this is so frustrating! I have so many questions, and I can barely contain myself from overwhelming you with them..."

Chuckling despite himself, Marshall quipped, "It's a bit late to worry about being imposing."

Rarity sighed before saying, "Yes, I know... And I apologize for that." Then, with a bit more vigor and determination, she continued. "Nevertheless, I'm going to try to make this work: you're the first host that's shown any promise since I began to look for one almost two months ago, and I can communicate with you. In addition to that, you seem to be a human, and a friend of mine left a lot to be desired when she spoke about them." Her tone acquired a bit of a defensive quality as she swiftly added, for her own benefit, "Not that I blame her, of course, considering the circumstances at the time, but still..."

That was a lot of information for Marshall to take in, which also inspired a lot of questions to come to mind. It wasn't that he believed what he was hearing — either directly or by suggestion — and was curious to know more, but he was thinking that he might find some way to resolve the situation if he learned more about Rarity. That was, of course, assuming that he was dealing with someone who was using a fabricated persona, rather than his own mind.

After eating a piece of ravioli at a sedate pace, which gained him some extra time to figure out what kind of inquiry to approach with, he said, "Okay, I think that owes me an explanation or two. First of all: when you say 'promise,' what do you mean?"

Apparently, Rarity had no problem filling him in on that, because she related her answer with a measure of enthusiasm. "Well, I've been in a bit of a rut as of late, inspiration-wise. I'm a fashion designer, you see, and in addition to accommodating the clientele who approach me with their ideas, I also use my own to supply my boutiques. Trouble is," her voice began to lose some of its spirit, and was slightly tinged by worry, "aside from accounting for the seasons, following the current trends and such, I haven't had many new ideas for quite a while, and it has begun to affect my reputation and business."

"Now," she went on, sounding more lively, "to make a long story short, I eventually came to the conclusion that what I needed was a change of venue, and to see new things. Unfortunately, there are too many factors keeping me close to home, and there isn't much here, or anyplace within a reasonable distance, that I'm unfamiliar with. So, I approached a friend of mine with my dilemma, and despite my limited and specialized skills, and average magic capacity, she devised a spell that would allow me to see things from afar without having to go anywhere, which I could use in my spare time."

She paused, perhaps to consider what to tell him next. "She said that it was like a fishing rod. Since it would have taken me a greater amount of time to learn a spell that would have allowed me to view things remotely, which would have been taxing to control and sustain for too long, and could prove unhealthy if used too often, she opted for something passive in nature. Not only does that mean that the results rely on the visual and audial faculties of another, but I have no control over what I catch, or where and when I do."

"And that last part is one of the main reasons for why I find you promising," she concluded.

Marshall leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, hardly registering the sound coming from his monitor's speakers as he absorbed everything that he'd been told. Rarity had not only answered the question that he had posed to her, but had provided plenty of information beyond that as well. More importantly, however, was the fact that he'd learned the method by which she supposedly knew what he was doing, and that was something that he could put to the test. The only problem lied in figuring out exactly how to go about testing her.

He decided to finish up his ravioli while he thought about it, although his silence — by that time — had eventually prompted Rarity to ask, "Are you alright? I'm aware that it might be difficult to believe me, but..."

Marshall had to admit that Rarity was a good actress, for her concern to sound so sincere. Still, he now had an idea to follow up on, so he picked up his bowl of ravioli before asking, "You basically said that you see and hear what I do, right?" Upon receiving confirmation, he added, "Then you won't mind if I check to see if that's true?"

"Oh, not at all!" Rarity readily acquiesced. "I wouldn't want you to believe yourself to be crazy, or — heaven forbid — that I'm doing this at your expense. The sooner that we get this issue sorted out, the better it will be for the both of us."

That last statement made Marshall pause, because it brought to mind something that he hadn't considered yet. It wasn't that the idea of Rarity actually being a unicorn from another world hadn't ever crossed his mind, but it was just too unbelievable to treat it as if it were even remotely possible. However, if posed hypothetically, then he supposed that such a scenario would be better than being pranked or having a mental issue.

Still, while preferable, another world with magic and unicorns couldn't possibly be real. At best, as a more realistic alternative, he hoped that Rarity was a prankster. At worst... Well, actually, he wasn't quite sure if Rarity would be all that bad as a voice in his head, aside from the fact that such a thing wouldn't be normal. She seemed nice enough so far, anyway, even though it would probably take some time to get accustomed to having a female persona in his head, if that's what she turned out to be.

There may be a way to know for sure, one way or another, so he ate the last of his ravioli while it was still warm, so he wouldn't have to worry about it getting cold while he performed his tests. Afterward, he rinsed his bowl and fork, then left them in the kitchen sink — for proper cleaning later — before returning to his bedroom. Upon sitting at his desk once more, he opened one of its drawers, so he could procure the item that he would need for his hearing test.

The item in question was a pair of headphones, of the type that cancelled ambient noise with destructive interference. He'd gotten them from his uncle the Christmas before last, back when he was still looking for an apartment. Since he had a habit of listening to music undisturbed, his uncle had figured that they would solve any problems that might arise in regard to living in an apartment, whether it came in the form of the neighbors complaining about the volume of his music, or their own racket intruding upon it.

If Rarity was communicating with him from an outside source, the headphones should be able to silence her. If they had no effect at all, well... The more effort that was put into the prank, especially when applying that effort to — as he saw himself — a completely unremarkable person, then even the most reasonable possibility would be in jeopardy of taking a back seat to one that wasn't any more welcome.

Since the results remained to be seen, though, he put aside his worries and focused on the here and now; he could worry about crossing any metaphorical bridges if any of them ever became relevant. With that in mind, he turned his attention to Rarity and said, "Okay, this is what I want to do: while you're talking to yourself, or whatever you choose to do with your voice, I'm going to try to block it out."

"Understood," came Rarity's succinct reply. "Should I begin now?"

Upon being given the go-ahead, she cleared her throat and began to sing a wordless tune. This came as a mild surprise to Marshall, but he quickly reasoned that it was probably easier than stringing together a sensible series of words to oneself without prior preparation, so he managed to stop himself from being distracted by her singing for too long and focused his mind on the headphones that he held in his hands. After turning them on, it was without ceremony that he placed them upon his head.

Not only could he still hear Rarity's singing, but the volume and quality of her voice hadn't changed one bit. After checking to make sure that the power light was lit on the headphones, even though it hadn't been that long ago since he had changed the battery, he returned them to his head and applied and removed them from his ears a few times, all while adding the video's audio — which was still playing in the unselected tab — to his scrutiny. The result was unexpected, because the headphones had a significant effect on the audio from the video while leaving Rarity's voice unaffected at the same time.

There was a reasonable explanation for it, surely, but to pull it off must have required a lot more effort than he thought he would be worth. After all, he was hearing Rarity the same whether he wore his headphones or not, which meant that going through more than just the trouble of modifying his headphones must have been done. He couldn't really imagine how anything beyond that could have been accomplished, but hopefully it wasn't the sort of thing that one heard about in certain conspiracy theories and the like.

Either way, he couldn't trust his headphones, so he turned them off and put them away. However, while canceling Rarity's voice hadn't worked, he had yet to hear anything that could drown it out, so he decided to try one more experiment with sound before he tested the visual aspect of the matter. With that in mind, he decided to find something on Youtube — since it was already being used — that would provide an adequate and consistent amount of noise, so he closed the tab with the horse pictures and looked through his bookmarks for a song.

Going down the alphabetically-arranged list, the first song that met his requirements was Blue Water Blue Sky, the version of May's stage theme from Guilty Gear X2. After turning up the volume on the monitor a bit, he clicked the bookmark and leaned closer to the speakers, since he didn't want it so loud that it attracted the unwanted attention of one of his neighbors. When the music started, it was sudden and loud enough to disrupt Rarity's singing, who came to an awkward stop instead of working through it.

He found out why when she tactfully stated, "My, that music is certainly... energetic."

With an inward sigh, Marshall paused the video and turned the volume back to its original setting, since he'd learned that something louder than Rarity wasn't going to have the usual effect. That wasn't to say that it had no effect at all, but it was hardly enough to matter, and certainly much less than what he would have expected under normal circumstances. He began to wish that he was more knowledgeable about such things, so he'd have a better idea of what he was dealing with.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when Rarity continued to speak. "If I may inquire about that video..." When he hummed in question, to spur her onward, she went on to ask, "Are the colors being displayed normal for your world? I was wondering because that appearance is normal for ours, but I haven't seen anything like it in your home."

Marshall stared at the image of May for a few seconds, now frozen in mid-sway, as the underlying meaning of her question sunk in. "Wait," he said, as he went back to Google image search and typed in "cartoon" as his criteria, "are you saying that this is normal for you?"

"Pretty much," Rarity replied, after some consideration of the search results that could be seen. Probably due to the disbelief that had been conveyed in his voice, she added, "Why? Is there a problem?"

Marshall stood up from his chair and said, "If you want me to believe that you are what you say you are? Then: yeah."

Regardless of there being yet another impossibility to contend with, though, that didn't mean that he could dismiss the other possibilities, especially after the results of his first test. Plus, he still had one more test to perform, which — in his mind — should give him an even better understanding of what he was dealing with. The idea that he was talking to a cartoon, on top of everything else, inspired him to not waste any more time, because he hoped to get to the bottom of things and put an end to whatever was going on. As much as he prided himself in his easygoing nature, his nerves were beginning to feel a bit frayed.

So, he went over to his closet, opened it up, and reached for the teddy bear that sat on the shelf. He'd had it since he was three years old, and it had somehow managed to stick around until it was the oldest thing that he owned; which was part of the reason for why he held on to it, aside from nostalgia. While he could have left it with his parents, back when he had first moved into his apartment, several years ago his teddy bear had become a bearer of an object that was of a similar nature to itself, and he couldn't bear separating the two.

On its bottom was a pocket that was sealed by a zipper, and at one time it had contained a device that would play back what was said around it. Now, it contained a keepsake of his late grandfather. Unless someone went through the trouble of rummaging through his apartment, to the extent that they would open the pocket of his teddy bear and stick their hand inside, in order to find out if something was in there or not, he didn't know what else he could use that a hidden camera — and its installers, potentially — wouldn't have already seen.

After his hand was enclosed around his keepsake, making sure that it stayed hidden from view in the process, he went to the living room to get the next item that he would need for his test. His destination was the table in front of the loveseat, where he had left his keys. On the keyring with said keys was a small, LED flashlight, which he picked up and studied thoughtfully for a moment, hardly believing that what he was about to do was going to happen.

Still, he wanted an understanding of what was going on, and a resolution, so he centered himself and addressed Rarity once more. "Alright, I'm going to cover one of my eyes with my hand, so only I can see what I'm holding in it. If you can see what I do, then you should be able to tell me what I'm looking at."

Rarity voiced her understanding and readiness, so he lowered his head, until his chin was touching his chest, and raised the hand that held his keepsake up to his eye. It was a bit tricky keeping the object in his hand hidden from view while he opened it up enough to cover his eye, but he was fairly confident that a camera wouldn't have been able to see it, especially as enshrouded by shadows as it was. Next, he turned on his LED flashlight and directed it into the space between his purlicue and thumb.

What was revealed was a penny, from nineteen fifty-seven, which was enclosed in aluminum. The enclosure was egg-shaped, except it was a bit concave at the narrow end of it, which conformed to the shape of the horseshoe being displayed on the face of the enclosure. Inscribed within the dimensions of the horseshoe, reading from bottom left to bottom right, were the words, "Keep me and never go broke." At the top of the horseshoe, on one side of the penny, was a four-leaf clover, along with a hole, and on the opposite side of the penny was another inscription, reading, "I bring good luck."

"What's this?" Rarity wondered aloud. "'Keep me and never go broke.' Is it some form of currency?"

Upon hearing that, Marshall lowered his arms and sat down on his loveseat, slouching against the back of it as he stared ahead, at nothing in particular. He still wasn't willing to believe Rarity's claims, so it was rather disturbing to think about the lengths that someone would have gone through to achieve what they did, and why they would be doing it. Suddenly, having a mental problem didn't sound so bad, even though he'd rather not have to deal with that either.

"Oh, dear..." Rarity eventually voiced, sounding concerned. "Are you alright?"

Marshall closed his eyes and released a sigh. "Not really."

There was a moment of silence before Rarity gently cajoled, "Would it really be so bad to believe me?"

Not for the first time did Marshall consider that line of thinking, only — on this occasion — he exercised more seriousness while he contemplated it. Of course, despite the impossibility of a magical, cartoon unicorn from another world being real, he would rather pretend and hope that it was true, instead of accepting the alternatives. It wasn't like he had to tell anyone about it, after all, and he'd rather not worry about being crazy, or being involved with some mysterious entity that was working from the shadows.

Besides which, Rarity seemed nice enough. Even if she turned out to be someone who was involved in some kind of operation, one that included a meticulous cataloguing of his apartment's contents, the observation of his person, and/or the use of high-tech — or even secret — technology, perhaps playing along would make things work out for the best. It was all based on speculation, of course, and that was one of the main reasons for why he wanted to dismiss it, so he could maintain his peace of mind with more pleasant thoughts.

So, in the end, he opened his eyes and resigned himself to saying, "I suppose not. It's not like I have proof of anything else either, so..."

"Good," Rarity replied, sounding pleased. "Now, I just want to reassure you that I won't be in contact with you most of the time — a few hours a day, at most. Also, as I mentioned before, I'm simply looking for something that will inspire me. None of that will be a problem, will it?"

"So long as it doesn't interfere with my job," Marshall said, the most obvious problem occurring to him first. "Oh, and I do like to set some time aside for myself every now and again, so I'd appreciate being left alone during those times as well."

"Easily done, darling," Rarity confidently avowed, before addressing a potential problem with one of his wishes. "At what hours do you work? It's just a little past noon where I live."

Marshall sat up, so he could look at the stove's digital clock. "Noon? It's nearly eleven at night, here; I work from two in the afternoon till ten at night."

Rarity made an agreeable sound in response to that. "I don't have much spare time most mornings, and I'll otherwise be asleep during that time, so that works for me. However," she began to sound a tad worried, "I'm assuming that you'll be going to bed soon, and it will be nighttime here when you wake up, so..."

Picking up on what she wanted to know, Marshall said, "Yeah, while that's generally my free time, it's also the best time for doing stuff that needs to get done. I try to pack as much of it together as I can in one day, though, so I have nothing but free time on other days."

"I suppose that will have to work," Rarity acknowledged, though nonetheless sounding relieved. Then, with mostly-checked enthusiasm, she added, "Oh, before I go, I was hoping that you could tell me more about that device that you were using — the one that you performed those searches with. What all is contained within it? Would you happen to have anything for human fashion, by any chance?"

Since he had decided to play along with this, even if only partway, Marshall couldn't help smiling impishly as he got to his feet and began to head back toward his computer. It might be amusing to see how Rarity reacted once he properly introduced her to everything that was the Internet. Well, the parts of it that one could unsee if they so desired, at any rate.
> Chapter 3: Hook, Line and 'Net
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marshall pushed and pulled the carriage of the meat slicer over the blade at a practiced pace, along with the smoked turkey that was secured to it. At the end of each push he caught a new slice of meat in his Kevlar and vinyl-gloved hand, and during the process of pulling back he set it onto a pile of matching meat slices. It was a routine that could lull him into a zoned-out state, should he allow it, except he was too mindful of his job at the deli, being watched by patrons of the supermarket, his personal safety, and of his co-worker, Simon.

Nevertheless, it helped to take his mind off of what had happened last night. He didn't want to believe that it had happened at all, especially since he hadn't heard "Rarity" since then, but he'd left behind enough evidence of last night's events to know that something had happened. He didn't want to believe that he was going mental, or that someone was messing with him for some unknown reason, so he could only hope that he had been communicating with a magical, cartoon unicorn from another world... However unbelievable that seemed.

After all, who wouldn't want to experience something as novel as that? Many people dreamed of the imaginary being real when they were young, although they tended to grow out of entertaining notions of that nature. By the time that people reached his own age of twenty-seven, they looked forward to more down-to-earth ideas, if one could — for example — call contact with extraterrestrial life, or the manned exploration of other celestial objects in the solar system, such.

While he normally counted himself among the rational adults, and the fantasy in question was more stereotypical of a young girl, his dilemma made it more preferable than the reasonable explanations that he could come up with. If it was more than a prank, for instance, he couldn't even begin to figure out what to do. He didn't know why they would be doing whatever it was that they were doing, or what kind of power and resources were backing them, which was — to be frank — scary. On the other hand, hearing voices could have a negative impact on his life if proven to be the case: people could assume that he was a liability, if not outright dangerous; he could lose his job, and with the condition being on record — and probably mandatory to divulge — it would likely affect his future prospects and livelihood; and, worst of all, people would probably look at him differently, treat him differently, as if he weren't like them.

Sure, it might be delusional to hope that Rarity's claims were real, but no one else had to know about it, and it was better than thinking about the other possibilities. As things were, though, he was wishing that he could put on some headphones and listen to Peace of Mind, by Boston, right then. It was a song that had helped him get through a rough patch in his early teens, back when his family's financial situation had driven his parents to many a verbal spar. He'd sought an escape in music, and it just so happened that the phrase, "all I want is to have my peace of mind," had caught his attention, and he had latched on to it for coping purposes.

A few years later, after having taken those words to heart, the rest had — in the meantime — impressed upon him the mental wherewithal to accept that he'd have to pass up college, unlike his older brother and sister. They'd had the financial backing of their parents, but between bad financial decisions, a terrible economic climate, and unplanned expenses, they ended up filing for chapter thirteen shortly after they had paid for his sister's tuition.

It wasn't like he'd had any particular plans for his life, anyway, and that was still the case at present. Besides which, his brother was an example of why a college education didn't guarantee a decent job, or even the kind that had been prepared for. While he had a good-paying job at the moment, it had taken several years to obtain, and it wasn't even the kind that he particularly enjoyed.

While he didn't care for his own job, he wasn't fond of stagnation either, so he had elected to find a job that paid well enough for him to move out of his parents' house. There had been the stigma of living with one's parents at his age, of course, and wanting one less strike against him for whenever he got around to seeking a relationship with someone, so — with all those things combined — he had simply moved forward to see if he'd run into any interesting opportunities.

It was at that moment that his thoughts and work were interrupted by a familiar flash of vertigo and fuzzy-headedness, although it took him a second to realize why it felt familiar in the first place. Despite it being the second time, however, he pushed aside his concerns and continued with his work, since he didn't want to make a scene unless it couldn't be helped. If it happened again, he'd seriously consider consulting a doctor, since — for all that he knew — it could be a sign of a developing stroke.

Once he had a pound of the smoked turkey in slices, he shut off the meat slicer before wrapping it up and sealing it in a bag. The blade on the meat slicer had finished spinning by then, so he adjusted the slice thickness setting to zero, in order to close the blade. With that out of the way, he focused on the process of printing up a sticker — with various details on it, including the price — to put on the bag of smoked turkey, applied it, then delivered the product to the customer, who put it in the seat of their cart, alongside the white American cheese and potato salad that they had also gotten from the deli, and went about their business without a word.

Now that the demand of customer service had abated, and no one else had been waiting on his side of the deli for their turn, he spared Simon a glance, who was in the middle of putting a rotisserie chicken in a container for the customer that he was currently attending. There was another customer waiting on that side, but they had yet to notice that he was no longer being occupied.

Before he could move to return the smoked turkey to the refrigerated display case, and then getting the customer's attention, he was frozen in place by Rarity making her presence known to him, who tentatively asked, "Marshall? Can you spare a moment?"

The fact that she was speaking to him during his work hours, despite the arrangement that they had made, didn't immediately occur to him, due to the significance of her being able to do so. Not only that, but a quick check revealed that no one seemed to react to her voice even though he was pretty sure that she was loud enough to be heard, and her manner of speech — to him, at least — being rather unique when compared to how people normally spoke in the area.

While it was a bit of a struggle, he reined in his anxiety and forced himself to breathe normally again. While it was worrying that Rarity could do what she was doing at his job, he wasn't going to benefit from allowing that worry to control him. However, now he was really beginning to hope that Rarity's claims were true.

When he turned to retrieve the smoked turkey from the meat slicer's carriage, after making sure that no one would see his face, he quietly muttered, "'Easily done,' huh?"

Rarity sounded fairly contrite with her response. "I do apologize, but I was so tired last night that I don't even remember falling asleep. Otherwise, I would have contacted you sometime during the morning hours."

"Why couldn't you wait until tonight?" Marshall asked, before he slowly took the smoked turkey and moved it into the display case, where he would remain in a squatting position for as long as he thought it would conceal him — his mouth, in particular — without looking out of place.

"Ah, well," Rarity began, somewhat guiltily, "originally, I was just going to check in for a moment and watch, because you hadn't mentioned what your job was and I was curious." The guilt was cleared away, to be replaced by mild excitement. "However, I was just so excited about our connection that I just had to tell Twilight — the friend that I had mentioned to you before — about it right away. After talking for a bit, we eventually had an idea that I felt you should know about as soon as possible, so you can have some time to think about it before giving me an answer."

Marshall decided that he could let her off the hook, so long as what she had to say was truly worth the intrusion. "Okay, well, I need to get back to work, so go ahead and tell me about this idea of yours."

Putting words to action, he closed the display case, stood up, got the customer's attention, then asked them what they needed. Rarity waited until he was no longer interacting with the customer to start talking, at which point she cleared her throat and said, "Well, after I got the excitement out of my system, I told her how I wished there was a way to prove to you that what I've said is the truth, because I felt bad about the position I've put you in."

As Marshall secured some pastrami in the carriage of the meat slicer, and prepared to slice it, he tried to pay close attention to Rarity without it affecting his work, now that he knew what the subject was about.

"After some consideration," Rarity continued, "Twilight decided that she would figure out a way to bring you to our world. That way, in addition to putting your mind at ease, she can pursue her own interests with you personally." There was a brief pause before she — in apparent remembrance, in relation to what she had just been saying — added, "Oh! That's right: when I told her about the wonders of the Internet, she was utterly captivated by it."

Marshall's forward motion with the carriage slowed to a stop, and he fumbled with the newest slice of meat being delivered to his hand, upon hearing that first sentence. He barely registered the rest of what Rarity had said, but her interjection was enough for him to pull himself together and continue cutting the pastrami. Much to his relief, after a quick, surreptitious look about himself, he discovered that his latest customer was preoccupied by the selection of salads for sale, and that Simon's attention was on his cell phone.

What Rarity had said had been unexpected, to say the very least — and just as unbelievable. As much as he'd like to believe it, though, it was also worrisome: now he had to worry about being abducted as well, if he wasn't crazy and the whole other world thing turned out to be a lie. Rather than putting his mind at ease with anticipation, now he was really beginning to dread what the outcome might be.

He was unsure if he should try speaking to Rarity while a customer was nearby, in order to tell her how he felt about her message, but he lost his opportunity when Rarity proceeded to say, "Well, I don't want to be any more of a bother, so I'll be on my way, now. Ta-ta!"

Marshall just barely stopped himself from saying something in reply, and thus avoided drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Instead, he released a sigh and continued with the familiar motions of his current activity. That didn't stop him from thinking about what to expect in the future, though; which he really wasn't looking forward to. Still, he kept it together, and the rest of his shift went by in the same manner as it usually did.

After clocking out, he decided to pick up a burrito on the way home, because he wasn't in the mood to make anything while his thoughts were as burdened by his current circumstances as they were. He decided to eat it on the way home, so he could get himself comfortable as soon as he got there, which would also help to prepare him mentally for whatever might happen with Rarity.

Twenty minutes later, after changing into a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt, and grabbing a bottle of iced tea, he was in his living room, reclining in the recliner, just staring up at a corner of the ceiling as Boston's debut album played quietly in the background. With the exception of the music being played, this was not an unusual activity for him, although it was probably the first time — as far as he could recall — that he had ever done it in preparation for something, rather than as a means of making a recovery after the fact.

However, his situation wasn't one that he knew how to handle, and the possible prospects that he could look forward to were mostly unwanted or scary. At any other time in the past, whenever he had some kind of problem that had an elusive solution, he'd had a few options that he could fall back on for support or aid, but now they were compromised in some form or another. That was partly because he couldn't be sure of just what — exactly — his problem was, but it was mainly because the bad ones could have negative repercussions if he sought help. Aside from not wanting anyone to think that he was crazy, and preferring to keep it to himself and live with it if that turned out to be the case, now he had to worry about endangering others if whoever was watching him had plans for him that involved more than just observation and remote communication.

Eventually, he had another one of those weird — yet very short — bouts of disorientation, although he was able to realize its cause when Rarity spoke right afterward. "Marshall?"

"Yeah?" Marshall absently replied, who was wondering if there was any use for what he had just learned, beyond the obvious.

"How do you feel about coming to my world?" Rarity queried, sounding a bit eager for an answer, before she evenly added, "Of course, if — for some reason — you don't feel comfortable with that, we can try to formulate some other way to prove that what I'm saying is true."

Marshall didn't even want to contemplate what "another way" might entail, so he stuck with the devil that he knew. "How can I even be sure that what you're proposing to do isn't going to lead to me being abducted?"

Rarity's belated reply was suffused with a mixture of guilt and sympathy. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry... I thought that you would have looked forward to having your fears allayed. I hadn't foreseen this reaction at all..."

"I want to believe it," Marshall admitted despite himself, finding it difficult to believe that Rarity was being insincere, "but magic, unicorns... interdimensional travel, I guess? They only exist in fiction, as far as I'm aware. Y'know?"

Rarity was quiet for a time. Her tone of voice was difficult to decipher when she next spoke, though he could pick out the reluctance and resignation in it, which probably said more than enough about how she supposedly felt. "I..." She paused and sighed, as if she hadn't fully committed herself when she had started speaking, or had changed her mind regarding what she would say. "I understand. It was never my intention to cause you such grief, so if you would prefer that I sever our connection, then... So be it."

Marshall took a sip of his tea as he digested that, silently damning Rarity for being such a good actress, if that was — indeed — what she was. It wasn't only by the virtue of her sounding so convincingly genuine that made it hard for him to reject her, but that she hadn't resorted to guilt-tripping him. While it wasn't enough for him to feel sorry for her, it was sufficient to afford her a measure of respect and consideration.

Of course, whether she was telling the truth or not, it wouldn't matter if she was a voice in his head. He'd never heard of anyone making such an arrangement and the outcome reflect it, at any rate. In the case that she was a real person, and not a magical, cartoon unicorn from another world, then there was no guarantee that she would honor her word. At least, for the amount of effort put into communicating with him in the mysterious manner in which it was accomplished, he would find it odd if she were to simply drop whatever had been planned.

In the end, he felt that telling her to go away was unlikely to change anything. If — against all odds — she was actually telling the truth, however, then he'd have no chance to gain anything at all by parting ways with her. It was that sliver of hope that urged him to keep her around, in conjunction with how well-behaved and conscientious she had presented herself to be thus far.

After taking another sip of his tea, he pushed back the undercurrent of helplessness and uncertainty as he softly said, "I guess you can stay."

"You won't regret it," Rarity replied, in all seriousness, although with a note of the effort that she was exercising to hold back her joy and relief at the news. "You'll have the proof that you're hoping for before too long, I assure you. Until then, in order to lessen the burden that I've placed upon you, I'll keep my requests to a minimum. How does that sound?"

Marshall mumbled a sound that could pass as one of approval, but he honestly didn't know what to think about the offer one way or the other.





Sure enough, Marshall didn't receive many requests from Rarity. However, it wasn't so much from the fact that she checked herself as it was from a lack of opportunity. Aside from never making a connection with him while he worked, she usually only reserved a half of an hour for him during her lunch break, which she only used about half of the time. While she could spare two or three hours of her night, it wasn't unusual for her to be tired from the very start of their connection, and a few times he was pretty sure that she had dozed off, since she usually had some parting words before she called it a night.

So, even though he didn't really care about fashion, he didn't have to deal with it so much that he couldn't bear it. It also helped that Rarity looked for inspiration outside of the traditional mediums, beyond the fashion shows, educational programs, documentaries and the like. In fact, once she got a taste of the fashion utilized in fictional works, from such things as film, cartoons and comics, she began to focus on those half of the time. Personally, he'd like to think that she did that — at least in part — for his own sake.

Although he hadn't asked for it initially, Rarity was happy to exchange information about herself, where she lived, and her world in general, which made for a nice break if it followed the more boring aspects of her pursuit. While he still wasn't convinced that any of it was real, that, along with his interactions with her in general, eased his fears about her, whether they were about her being a part of some mysterious conspiracy or a creation of his own mind: on the one hand, the former didn't seem to match his mental profile of her; on the other, the latter didn't seem so bad, since he'd certainly heard of worse when it came to voices.

He hadn't offered much information about himself without reason, so Rarity often had to fish for it. It wasn't that he had anything to hide: it was simply due to the fact that — as far as he was concerned — there wasn't much worth mentioning. He was just some guy who was going nowhere in life, had no prospects or dreams, and had a job that did little more than support his current — and admittedly lackluster — lifestyle. In addition to that, he had no immediate plans for companionship, and he'd fallen out of contact with most of his friends over the years, between them moving away to pursue a higher education and/or jobs, and him moving a few cities away from their hometown. As it turned out, he wasn't all that great at maintaining long-distance relationships, and most of his friends were only willing to put in the extra effort to stay in contact with him for so long.

Eventually, nearly two weeks after their first meeting, Rarity had something important to tell him in the morning: "Twilight has figured out a way to bring you to our world."

Twilight Sparkle, Marshall recalled, was one of Rarity's friends, among the number that she had informed him about with the expectation that he would meet them one day. Not only was Twilight Sparkle the one who made it possible for Rarity to come into contact with him in the first place, but she was also — of all things — a princess on top of that; as if he hadn't needed anything more to make him doubt her claims.

Regardless, it was a big deal that the moment of truth had actually arrived, where he would find out who or what Rarity was, so he entered the menu in the game that he was playing, put aside his Playstation 4 controller, and muted the TV, feeling that his undivided attention would be required for the conversation ahead. He could always get back to playing Tales of Zestiria later, if he had the opportunity, or was still in the mood for it.

He was fairly nervous, since his future could be greatly impacted in the moments to come, but he did his best to suppress it as he calmly asked, "She has?"

About a week ago Rarity had informed him that Twilight Sparkle had given up on using a transdimensional portal to get him to their world, in favor of figuring out something that guaranteed both success and safety. While Twilight Sparkle had no real problem creating the portal itself, the problem lied in where to establish the one on his end. Apparently, calculating distance between universes was akin to working in terms of "further" instead of "farther": she could apply a unit of measurement to the spell that connected him to Rarity, but that had no bearing on the distance that separated their universes. So, there was no telling if the difference between one millionth of a degree and another would place the portal well out of his range, or so close that it would shear off a portion of his body. Without knowing the discrepancy in distances, getting the portal within reach of him, using small — and relatively safe — increments, could easily take much longer than they would be alive.

That was the gist of what had been related to Rarity, at any rate. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the uncut version of Twilight Sparkle's explanation would have been like, since that sort of stuff was well beyond his understanding. Well, assuming that she was even real. Depending on what Rarity had in store for him, though, that uncertainty may resolve itself soon enough, one way or the other.

After confirming her statement with a hum, Rarity elaborated by saying, "There's this pond called the 'Mirror Pool,' whose magic can create a copy of those who peer into it when speaking a particular rhyme. Using the spell that connects us as a conduit, Twilight will pull your consciousness into the copy."

"...What?" Marshall deadpanned, who could hardly believe what he had heard. When Rarity asked if he wanted her to repeat herself, he said, "No, it's just..." He sighed, leaned forward, with his elbows digging into his legs, and rested his forehead upon the heels of his hands. "You're saying that I'll be a copy of... you?" After Rarity acknowledged that that would be the case, he continued in the most self-possessed manner that he could manage. "Assuming that all of this stuff is real, don't you... You know, think it's strange?"

"Well, of course," Rarity conceded. "But we are doing this for your sake. It will only be temporary, and you will only need to visit our world once; you can handle that much, surely?"

"I guess..." Marshall mumbled, his mind awhirl.

Visiting another world had been one thing, and unbelievable all by itself, but making said visit as one of its denizens, and female to boot? It was just beyond absurd. Personally, he had nothing against being a unicorn, and being female was more intimidating than anything else, but...

He glanced up at the screen of his television, unsure if he was looking for an answer or a distraction, and he was reminded that many of his games featured characters who got swept up in adventure, often going to places they never would have imagined going before, and doing things that they had previously been unable to conceive themselves of doing. He had never expected or hoped that he'd have such an experience one day, but hadn't he been looking for a certain something in his life, however passively he'd gone about it?

As much as he coasted along from day to day, and assured certain family members that he was happy with the way that things were, he knew that he wasn't being completely honest with himself. A stable, quiet and sedate life wasn't at all bad, but it lacked a certain, indefinable quality. He didn't know what it was, exactly, but he was pretty sure that the part of him that resonated with it was — at that very moment — urging him to cast aside logic and believe that there was another world awaiting him.

He was roused from his thoughts when Rarity sighed, who evenly said, "Marshall, I know that this might be too much for you to handle, and I would understand if that turned out to be the case, but if you're truly willing to go through with this, then I must ask that you sound more convincing than that."

Marshall gathered his resolve and sat up straight before sheepishly saying, "Yeah, sorry." After clearing his throat, he firmly added, "I'll do it. I might not like what could happen if this is a sham, but if I back out and nothing happens, I think I might regret it more not knowing if I missed out on everything that you've told me about your world."

"Then don't you worry one moment more, darling," Rarity confidently replied. "We can bring you here at your earliest convenience and clear up all of your concerns on the matter."

Marshall considered that for a moment before saying, "Well, it isn't long before your usual bedtime, and I'll have to go to work shortly after that, so... Tonight, I suppose?"

"That will be fine," Rarity gave her assent. "Just be sure that you're lying down when we do this, say... between ten-thirty and eleven?"

After Marshall agreed with that, Rarity opted to go to bed early, saying that she wanted to get some extra work done in the morning, since she didn't know how long she would be attending to him in the afternoon. That was just as well, because he found himself too distracted by the ever-nearing deadline to carry on his end of a conversation well; he ended up pacing and fidgeting a lot, as well as trying to fight down his restlessness and maintaining a firm grip on his optimism for what was to come. Not even one of the most soothing albums in his collection, Devin Townsend's Ghost, could do much to settle his nerves.

He'd never felt so troubled in his life, so he even went so far as to call up his work and pretend that he was too sick to come in, since he'd have a rough time handling his job while in his current state of mind. Thankfully, since he had only taken two sick days off during his employment thus far, and had a good attendance record otherwise, his manager accepted his request with minimal resistance.

That left him with eight extra hours to occupy himself with at home, since he didn't want to go out and risk the truth about his health getting back around to his workplace. He made a valiant effort to divert his mind with video games, movies and the like, but was met with limited success. Still, he managed to pass the time despite how slowly it seemed to pass, until there was only an hour left before he was scheduled to lie down on his bed.

By then, he had become unhinged enough — from his usual behavior — to concern himself with how horses walked, and actually got down on his hands and knees to see how difficult it would be for him to get the motions right while crawling. Surprisingly, despite being halting and slow, his body already seemed to have a good idea of how to handle quadrupedal locomotion, at least in regard to a horse's walking gait; he had just never really thought about it before, since humans were strictly described as being bipedal.

While the act was a bit awkward and embarrassing, despite doing it in private, he did get some amusement out of it, since he was taking his supposedly-impending transformation into a horse — or pony, as Rarity had referred to her kind — seriously enough to prepare for a potential problem. Of course, it was rather dubious whether his crawling skills would translate over to a true quadruped to any extent. There was also the fact that the structure of a horse's hind leg was very different from the upper half of a human's leg.

Finally, after dinner, and a few minutes before the agreed-upon window of time, he found himself lying on his bed. Despite his repose, however, his heart was far from being at rest, and he began to feel hot and sweaty, because he would soon find out the reality of his situation. Was he crazy? Was it a prank taken to ridiculous lengths? Would he be abducted? Was he a part of some secret experiment? Could it even be extraterrestrials?

It was a few minutes after ten forty when he felt Rarity making a connection, whose tone was touched by concern as she asked, "How are you doing, Marshall?"

"About as well as could be expected," Marshall answered, who was only mildly successful at sounding nonchalant.

Rarity voiced her understanding before saying, "Well, I just wanted to tell you what to expect before we bring you over, so you can prepare yourself for the experience."

Not knowing what to say to that, but wanting her to continue, Marshall said, "Okay..."

"First," Rarity evenly began, "we don't know how the transfer will feel, but there shouldn't be any pain involved. Following that, you will find yourself submerged in the pond, but it is to my understanding that you'll be largely unaffected by the water. Still, be sure to raise one of your forelegs — both, if you can manage it — and Twilight and I will pull you out of the pond. After that, well... We'll just have to play it by ear. How does that sound?"

"Like a plan," came Marshall's Rorschach response, who was finding it difficult to communicate with more eloquence and wit.

Whether or not Rarity had picked up on how he was feeling, she hurriedly said, "I better not keep you in any more suspense, then."

Assuming that she had disconnected, Marshall tensed up even further as the seconds ticked onward, keeping his eyes open in case one of his fears turned out to be real. However, after a few minutes, things... changed, for lack of a better word: one second he was staring up at his nondescript ceiling, the next was an experience that was beyond the capability of his mind's faculties to comprehend, then he was seeing something completely different and feeling rather discombobulated.

He reeled as his senses were bombarded with information both strange and new. He saw a pair of cartoon horses standing before him, looking down at him from their higher vantage point, but — to him — they appeared to be indistinct from one another, and he didn't really register their presence. He could hear something that could have been speech, at the same time as one of the horse's mouths were moving, but he couldn't understand what was being said, or even recognize its familiar qualities. The entirety of his body felt encapsulated by something that was pressing against him gently, and the map being drawn up by his mind, based on the collection of sensations being received, did not take the familiar form of a human.

Despite his confusion and general detachment, some part of his brain recalled that he was supposed to do something. He raised both of his "arms" without thinking, and absently noted that what came into view were not what he would have normally expected to see with such an action being performed. At the same time, the upper portion of his body began to drift forward slowly, and he was unable to realize that the actual direction was downward, since his body was now meant to be parallel with the ground with proper support, rather than perpendicular to it.

Fortunately, he was caught before he fell too far, with one stumpy-looking appendage per equally-stumpy "arm," and some part of him idly noted that they shouldn't have had any grip, much less enough to haul him out of whatever he was in. While he felt his legs being drug behind him, it didn't occur to him to put them underneath him and walk, so — after being moved a short distance — he soon found himself lying face-down on a cool, rocky surface, in a position that was less natural for his current body than it would have been for the one that he'd had just a moment or two ago.

He could still hear that indecipherable voice, along with another, as he stared blankly ahead, the limbs in front of him a stark contrast to the ground and dimly-lit environment in general. Had his arms always been that white? Sure, he hadn't gotten a lot of sunlight, but the color looked unnatural, pale or not. Also, where had his hands gone? He didn't recall having an accident at work, or anything else like that. His arms looked like the ones that he could see just beyond his reach, except they looked perfectly comfortable behaving like legs.

For the first time since his arrival, not that he had been aware that he had arrived anywhere, his eyelids remembered their autonomic duty and blinked. Bits and pieces of his faculties returned to him as he puzzled over the sight before him, which caused his face to scrunch up in confusion. However, realization eventually dawned on him, and his eyes widened as he finally began to see the situation for what it was.

After raising his head and whipping it this way and that, he saw that he was in a cave, which was mostly illuminated by a sizeable shaft of light that entered from a hole in the ceiling, with some familiar-looking flora making a small contribution with their glow. Without meaning to, he turned his head far enough to see the pond behind him, due to following the beam of light that shone upon it, and it occurred to him that he shouldn't have been able to turn his head that far. Immediately after realizing that, he registered the mass of white near the bottom of his peripheral vision, and the conscious part of his brain began to notice the signals that indicated that it was a part of his own body, not a foreign one. At the same time, he also became aware of the purple hair that sprouted from the top of his rump and covered much of what were now his legs, as well as the hair that draped over one shoulder and the opposite side of his face.

"Marshall?" A familiar voice entreated, sounding concerned.

Returning his attention to the fore, he once again saw a pair of cartoon horses, only this time he was fully cognizant of them. He quickly deduced that the one with the white coat and purple hair was Rarity, since he was supposed to be a copy of her, and that seemed to match what he had seen of himself so far. The other one, with the light purple coat and — as far as he could tell in the gloom of the cave — midnight blue hair that had a stripe of magenta and violet in it, he assumed to be Twilight Sparkle, since Rarity had mentioned her involvement before.

Despite the sight before him, in all of their big-eyed, horned, winged and cartoon-y glory, and the alien feelings coming from his own body, his hope-filled mind compelled him to seek further verification. "Is this... real?"

Rarity approached, and gazed down at him compassionately as she laid one of her forehooves upon his shoulder. "As real as it can be, dear."

Relief flooded Marshall's body and mind, washing away nearly two weeks of stress and suppressed feelings. His body went lax, and unshed tears came to the corners of his eyes when he closed them. He couldn't remember feeling so emotionally charged before, and while he felt like crying, he was able to hold back the tears and simply bask in the thought of being free from his fears.

Free, and right in the middle of something that he never would have imagined as being possible.
> Chapter 4: First a Rhyme, Now a Reason
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a second, Marshall was afraid of opening his eyes, fearing that the source of his relief would somehow turn out to be a lie, since it was also behind the excitement that was beginning to burble up from some long-forgotten corner of his being. Fortunately, he was able to draw strength from the hoof on his shoulder and opened his eyes.

When he gazed up at Rarity, she pulled her hoof back and softly asked, "How are you feeling?"

Marshall opened his mouth to reply, but paused because he was unaccustomed to feeling so many things at once, as well as so strongly, and wasn't sure where to start. Eventually, though, a simple solution occurred to him, at which point he smiled gratefully and said, "A lot better."

As Rarity returned his smile, Twilight Sparkle shuffled a little closer to him, appearing to have a concern of her own. "Does that include how you're acclimating to your new body? Are you having any physical or mental trouble, or otherwise notice anything strange?" She caught the poor phrasing of her last question and sheepishly added, "Beyond the obvious, I mean?"

As far as Marshall could tell, which wasn't saying much due to the unfamiliar body that he now inhabited, nothing immediately struck him as being wrong: weird, maybe; different, definitely; but not bad. His biggest issues were the change in species and sex, although he wasn't going to admit that to his present company. It wouldn't be too bad of a trade-off for the rest of the experiences that he hoped to get out of exploring a new world in a completely different universe, especially if he didn't think about it too much.

Since he wasn't going to learn much more by lying around like a fish out of water, even though that was — figuratively speaking — exactly what he was, he began to work his new limbs by pulling them under himself, directing the bottom of his hooves so that they planted themselves upon the ground, then raising himself to a standing position. He hadn't been sure of what to expect, but the procedure had turned out to be trouble-free. While he could definitely feel the differences, especially in regard to his hind legs and neck, it wasn't difficult to adjust to them. However, he was still highly aware of those differences, which might prove distracting.

Once he was sure that keeping his balance wouldn't be an issue, he raised one of his new forehooves for a visual inspection. It would have been strange to see the kind of hoof that was attached to the horses from his own world, but he couldn't be sure if it was just as strange, or more or less so, to be unable to distinguish — by sight alone — between leg and hoof on a cartoon horse. It was a little ironic, though, that a part of his new body could be described as being like a marshmallow in appearance without it involving his weight.

Next, he lowered his hoof and proceeded to tap and paw at the ground with it a bit, to get a clearer impression of the scope of its tactile capacity. He had expected to feel little to nothing with hooves, aside from vibration and pressure, so he was surprised when he got some feedback on the texture and temperature of the ground. It wasn't strong, certainly nowhere near what he would have sensed with his hands, but it was enough to work with — especially once he had more frames of reference for the purpose of comparison. In truth, having hooves didn't feel all that strange to him in this one respect, because it wasn't that different from the effect of wearing gloves at work, and he'd had nearly two years to get accustomed to working with the dulled sensitivity of his hands.

With that inspection done, he opted to find out how well he could walk on four legs. Since Rarity and Twilight Sparkle stood in the direction that he was currently facing, his first order of business was to turn aside until he had an obstruction-free path. Upon doing so, he began to move forward at a sedate pace without really thinking about it, since walking wasn't supposed to be a conscious chore. Thankfully, despite how odd it felt to move his hind legs, he was able to walk just fine. He wasn't sure if it was due to his crawling abilities as a human, the instincts of the body, Rarity's muscle memory, or even cartoon mechanics, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He wasn't the only one to see his achievement as being a notable one, because Twilight Sparkle commented on it while he was making his way back to where he had started. "It looks like the rate of your acclimation is better than I had projected, if you're already walking this well."

"Maybe," Marshall replied, who stopped at his destination before sharing his opinion on the matter. "But it could just be that it's not so different from when a human crawls, or the instinct of this body. At least, if I'm remembering correctly, and it's the same for this world, then horses can walk shortly after birth."

Twilight Sparkle hummed thoughtfully at that and stroked the underside of her chin. "Now that you mention it, those explanations do seem rather plausible. That first one might even explain how I had no trouble crawling when I was a human."

Marshall was a bit surprised to hear that last statement, in part because it sounded familiar, somehow. "You've been a human before?"

As Twilight Sparkle nodded her head, Rarity spoke up and said, "Don't you remember? That's how I knew enough about humans to identify you as one, even though I hadn't seen a human before."

"Oh, right," Marshall replied, who ducked his head a bit in embarrassment. Not much of what Rarity had said had been committed to memory prior to the current situation, since he hadn't been able to take her seriously.

"That aside," Rarity went on, as she looked him over with a speculative eye, "I have to wonder why he isn't an exact copy of me, unlike Pinkie Pie's copies. On top of looking so," she trailed off for effect, with a mild expression of distaste reserved for the next word that she would speak, "plain, she lacks a cutie mark and doesn't sound like I do, either."

"I don't?" Marshall asked, who only then noticed that his voice sounded a little off from Rarity's. While he had taken note of the change to his voice, he hadn't worried about it enough to spare it some scrutiny, in light of all of the other things that had been vying for his attention.

Knowing that Rarity was directing the question in her words to her, Twilight Sparkle turned her attention to the pony in question and helpfully supplied her with an answer. "Actually, you both sound exactly alike." Rarity looked at her questioningly, but she would have elaborated without such prompting. "You see, for the speaker, not only do they hear the voice that everypony else hears when they speak, but the vibrations that reach their ears through their head, which causes what they hear to sound different."

Idly, as Marshall awaited further explanations, since they involved him, he recalled having learned something to that effect at some point.

"The lack of makeup and different hairstyle," Twilight Sparkle continued, "is because the Mirror Pool only captures the essence of a pony — it doesn't copy anything extraneous. At the time that Pinkie Pie had made copies of herself, her appearance had been completely natural."

While Rarity gave Twilight Sparkle a doubtful look regarding the naturalness of Pinkie Pie's appearance, Marshall spared his mane and tail a closer look, so he could compare them with Rarity's. Where the original's hair looked rather fancy, with its bountiful curls, the unnatural shape that it retained, and the gradient effect applied to its color, his was mostly straight and of a solid color, swayed easily enough, and only curled a little bit at the end. On an unrelated note, he also noticed that his vision was a little blurry while looking at his mane.

"As for the cutie mark..." This time Twilight Sparkle took some time to ponder and form her answer, partly for the benefit of Marshall. "My guess is that the Mirror Pool treats the body and mind as separate — but otherwise connected — entities. Although cutie marks manifest themselves on our bodies, they are ultimately a product of our mind and magic." Twilight glanced between Marshall and Rarity with an inquiring expression on her face. "Perhaps, if Marshall had met the requirements for a cutie mark, he might very well have one of his own right now...?"

Cutie marks were one of the things that Marshall remembered well enough, from among the various things that Rarity had told him about, since he had needed some help to wrap his head around the concept. Rarity already knew the answer that he would give Twilight Sparkle, due to prior questioning, but she remained silent and gave him the choice of sharing it. So, he shook his head and said, "I'm pretty sure that I don't meet the requirements: I'm not particularly good at anything, or know what I want to do with myself."

The looks that he received from the natives conveyed the sentiment, "What a shame"; or, in Rarity's case, "That's still a shame." Ordinarily, he wouldn't be bothered by such a thing, but this was a magical experience that he was missing out on, and it felt relevant — in its own way — to how he currently lived. Getting a cutie mark, as he understood it, was akin to a coming of age ceremony, a part of life where one discovered themselves, their talent, and their individuality. He felt that it would be great to have that kind of innate self-assurance, instead of going through life without a rudder, much as he had been going about things so far.

"Well," Twilight Sparkle awkwardly began, in order to change the subject, "there's just one more thing that I'd like to check before we leave." As if suddenly recalling something, she looked at Marshall expectantly and added, "That is, if you'd like to see more of our world before I send you back?"

Noticing that Rarity was looking at him in a similar manner, Marshall figured that they had both assumed the same thing: that he would have been interested in exploring outside of the cave. They weren't wrong, of course, so he didn't really mind. While an errant thought told him that he should be more cautious, he was tired of being haunted by unknown possibilities, and didn't want to spoil the mood and experience by worrying over nothing again.

So, he smiled slightly and simply said, "Sure."

"Great!" Twilight Sparkle enthused, before she began to look around herself for something. Upon finding it, her eyes lit up as she said, "Okay, here's what I'd like for you to try..."

Marshall watched with growing interest as Twilight Sparkle's horn began to emit a magenta-colored glow. A second later, a stone that was surrounded by a glow of a matching color floated into view, and his eyes widened in amazement as he made the connection and figured out what was going on.

When the stone was placed on the ground before him, Twilight Sparkle said, "See if you can levitate that stone."

Looking between the aforementioned stone and Twilight Sparkle a few times, in equal parts disbelief and excitement, Marshall asked, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"For now, simply try to will it," Twilight Sparkle advised. "Telekinesis is one of the most common of a unicorn's natural abilities, though it can require some extra training for some. You see—"

Rarity zipped over to Twilight Sparkle's side and laid a hoof upon her shoulder as she interjected, "Let's save that for later, darling. You wouldn't want to dilly-dally in this cave for too long, would you?"

At first, Twilight Sparkle had looked a bit disgruntled by the interruption, but it wasn't long before she seemed to understand whatever it was that Rarity had been hinting at. While Marshall had no idea what the underlying message had been, their exchange had made it rather obvious that one existed. He idly wondered if noticing it was supposed to be strange or not, since it was common for characters to be oblivious toward what often passed for subtlety in cartoons — usually for the audience's sake.

"Right," Twilight Sparkle said, more to herself than anyone else, before she returned her attention to Marshall. "Well, if you want to know more about unicorn magic, you can ask me about it later, okay?"

Marshall nodded his head in reply, which seemed to satisfy Twilight Sparkle, before he directed his attention to the stone and thought, "Just will it, huh?"

He stared the stone down as he prepared to move it with magic, but he was hesitant. Had he seen a fictional character in his current position, he would have wondered what the hold up was, thinking that there was nothing stopping them from doing it, since he would have taken the opportunity to wield magic as soon as possible. However, his elevated heartbeat and giddiness, in anticipation for what he wanted to happen, and the nervous butterflies and cold sweat that beaded on his brow, in light of potential failure, proved to be a very distracting cocktail. Of course, it also didn't help that Twilight Sparkle and Rarity were watching him as intently as they were.

Finally, with a calming breath, he rose above the din of his nerves and focused on the task at hand. The result, a light blue glow around the stone, was so immediate that he lost his concentration, and the glow with it. Now, it was the positive emotions alone that threatened to distract him, but his eagerness was backed by those selfsame emotions, which made it possible to work through them.

As the stone rose into the air, without any of the usual, tangible means, so too did his heart soar. Had someone placed a mirror before him right then, while gifted with the range of expression that a cartoon face could muster, he would have seen an immensely radiant smile, and eyes that sparkled like the starry night sky. He had never felt so happy in his life at that very moment, as far as he could recall. It wasn't that he had been particularly unhappy, or had lived a hard life, either: things had just become... dull.

Whereas many people could live with the mundane world, and even thrive in it, there were others — like himself — who didn't read books, watch movies or play video games simply for the entertainment value. Inside of them, whether hidden within the darkest recesses or erupting from the surface for all of the world to see, were unfulfilled dreams. How said unfulfilled dreams affected them was dependent on the individual, and, in his case, he'd grown a bit somber and detached. Perhaps, without the dreams that he would have preferred to chase, that was why he had lacked ambition for the pursuits that remained.

However, not only was magic proven to be real to him, even if on another world... He had it! He was using it! Sure, he never would have imagined that his ticket to magic would come in the form of a cartoon unicorn, and a female one at that, but still... Magic!

"Well," Twilight Sparkle said, while smiling at Marshall's over-the-moon display, "if he can use telekinesis that easily, I can safely assume that he has fully acclimated to his new body."

Rarity giggled when Marshall began to look for more stones to levitate, who had an obvious bounce in his step and seemed oblivious to the fact that he had an audience. "I'm just glad that he's feeling better. I hope he enjoys what we have planned for him even half as much as he's enjoying that."





A few minutes later, after his head had been brought down from the clouds and reintroduced to reality, Marshall stood before Twilight Sparkle and Rarity once more, only now he was extremely embarrassed — so much so that he could actually feel a heat suffusing his face as he avoided eye contact. Today was a day of many firsts for him, and the newest among them was of him taking leave of his senses to indulge in a dream that he had once thought to be impossible.

He couldn't really blame himself for his behavior, but said behavior just wasn't him. At least, that's what he would like to say. After all, the person that he had become had once believed that magic didn't exist, despite the feelings that he had harbored for the concept, so — within that context — had his growth actually been stunted? Did he now have an opportunity to reach the true potential of his character?

The notion was both scary and enticing, but ultimately moot, since this was going to be his one and only opportunity to use magic. He would be returned to his magicless world and body before too long, and his time in Equestria would become a bittersweet memory. While some might say that it was better to have had and lost than never to have had at all, they were — in his opinion — crazy: because, like Tantalus, who knew the pleasures of sating thirst and hunger before being denied water and food, the thing that he desired would soon be taken out of his reach. The effect might not ever get close to reaching such a level of torment as it had with Tantalus, but he felt certain that he would be better off not knowing that magic was real.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he should bother making the most out of his time in Equestria, which would surely provide him with more cause to miss it, Twilight Sparkle broke through his thoughts with, "So, are you ready to see more of our world?"

"You bet," Marshall couldn't help saying. Whatever his conscious thoughts might have been at present, he simply had too many thoughts from the past that had worn a groove of sorts into his mind, one that played a tune when the stylus of magic was introduced to it. His body nearly thrummed with eagerness, knowing that there was more of the magical world to see beyond the cave, and it was a bit of a chore just to contain himself.

Instead of being led up that long, winding ramp, which had seemed like an obvious path toward an exit, Twilight Sparkle's horn lit up as she jauntily said, "Alright, I'll have us out of here in a jiffy."

Before Marshall could ask how she planned to do that, the glow around her horn flashed, which caused him to squint his eyes out of reflex, and then... He wasn't looking at the inside of a cave anymore. As he opened his eyes fully, in order to take in his new environment, he also noticed that his vision hadn't been affected by that bright flash of light.

Looking this way and that, he saw that they now stood in a forest, one that looked rather foreboding. It was gloomy despite being midday, there was mist roiling along the ground, the trees looked twisted and sinister, and there appeared to be a lot of brambles in the vicinity. Beyond where the brambles were thickest, he could just make out what seemed to be a boulder-filled hole.

Right when he was about to question the reason for being in such a place, how they had gotten there finally caught up to him as he opened up his mouth to speak, which silenced him and made his jaw go slack from shock. It didn't help when he turned his attention to the one who had been responsible for their mode of transportation, since he was reminded that he also had a horn, and thus could — potentially — do the same thing.

Much to his chagrin, he spoke with a squeaky voice when he focused on Twilight Sparkle and said, "Did you just—" He cleared his throat and tried again, even as he tried to suppress a blush. "Did you just teleport us out of that cave?"

"I sure did," Twilight Sparkle replied, with a hint of amusement at his level of interest.

As much as he wanted to pursue the subject of magic, Marshall felt that there was a more pertinent matter to address. "So, uh... Why did you teleport us to this place?"

Twilight Sparkle spared her surroundings a glance, and — upon seeing what she had expected to see — realized that Marshall hadn't been the pony that she had traveled to the Mirror Pool with. "Oh, well, we're just outside the entrance to the cave."

After sweeping the forelock of her mane aside with a flourish, which was accompanied by a slight tossing of the head, Rarity pointed in the direction of the aforementioned cave entrance and explained, "It was easier than going through that." When she lowered her foreleg, as an aside she added, "Well, that, and the dimensions of the tunnel leading into the cave are a bit... inconvenient."

Marshall's attention had automatically followed the direction that she had pointed in, so he almost missed the half-lidded stare that Twilight Sparkle had directed at her. Based on his impressions of Rarity thus far, he could only assume that she was the type to be protective of her appearance, which probably meant that that had been inconvenient enough times in the past to garner such a response from Twilight Sparkle. Still, the expression seemed friendly enough, and he had gotten an experience with teleportation out of the deal, so he wasn't going to worry about it.

"Anyway," Twilight Sparkle began, as she turned to face the direction that she planned to travel, "the Everfree Forest isn't very safe, so let's be on our way."

Seeing no reason to argue with that, Marshall began to follow her, with Rarity falling into step at his side. After only a few steps, his curiosity prompted him to ask, "So, where are we going?"

"We are going to Ponyville," Rarity responded in a mildly gladsome manner. "After all, if we're going to give you a view of our world, we can certainly do better than some dark, unsightly cave."

Marshall chuckled a bit at that, and his brief inattention earned him a stumble after a misstep on an exposed root. Fortunately, despite being so new to walking with four legs, he was able to recover his balance and save himself from a fall. When he returned his attention to Rarity, he saw that she was regarding him with some concern, so he offered a somewhat bashful smile to indicate that he was alright — and a little embarrassed.

Twilight Sparkle had turned her head aside when she had heard him stumble, so she could see what was going on and help if necessary. Seeing that he was alright, she smiled and picked up where Rarity had left off. "More specifically, we thought that you might like to have a taste of the best confections that Ponyville has to offer."

That certainly got Marshall's attention, and — for the first time — he was made aware of his equine ears when they perked up and homed in on the source of the good news. That wasn't enough to distract him from his current train of thought, though. He'd always had a bit of a sweet tooth, but he'd had to restrain himself so he didn't pack on the pounds, and that hadn't gotten any easier once he was in control of both a budget and what food he chose to stock his home with. Now that he had a new, temporary body, however, he should be able to enjoy himself without any worries.

It was just one amazing thing after another!

"Afterward," Twilight Sparkle continued, which interrupted his drool-inducing thoughts, "if you'd like, we can give you a tour of our town."

Marshall nodded his head. "That's fine by me. I might as well make the most out of this while I'm here."

He thought that there was something strange about Twilight Sparkle's expression, following his response, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. When she returned her attention to the fore, thus depriving him of further study, he decided that he had probably just imagined it. It wasn't like he was an expert on cartoon horse expressions, or anything; heck, he wasn't all that great at reading human expressions, either.

Eventually, he could see the edge of the forest ahead, and the inviting, open field beyond. He had to squint his eyes by the time he had left the canopy of the forest, as they adjusted to the full brunt of the noonday sun, but it didn't stop him from taking in the sights. While there wasn't much to see, aside from the odd tree, occasional shrub and assortment of wildflowers, it was still a pleasant view. There was also a faint smell in the air that was both aromatic and fresh, and the grass beneath his hooves felt a lot nicer than the rough, uneven and debris-covered ground of the forest.

One of the things that he had missed since moving into the city, from the somewhat out-of-the-way and underdeveloped subdivision, had been this. Not exactly like what he was currently experiencing, since there had been plenty of neighbors within sight and earshot, but it had been a lot quieter and better-smelling, overall. The lot had been along the boundary of the subdivision, against the forest, so he'd gotten to enjoy the soothing sound of gently-rustling leaves when there was a breeze, and he had particularly enjoyed the smell of honeysuckle while they were in bloom, which had been allowed to grow over the side of the fence closest to the forest. Of course, he hadn't really learned to appreciate it as much as he currently did until he had gotten a taste of life in the heart of a city — its unimpressive size notwithstanding.

Before long they crested a hill, where they came to a stop. Twilight Sparkle had initiated it, and he'd had an idea as to why since he had begun to notice the taller structures of Ponyville rising above the hill from his vantage point, but it had still come as a pleasant surprise to see the town in its entirety, especially due to the first — and most obvious — structure that he had seen.

It was hard to tell exactly how technologically-advanced their civilization was, or if it even mattered with magic involved, but most of the buildings had thatch roofs and half-timbered frames. Then there were more "modern-looking" structures, like the clock tower, the old-fashioned schoolhouse, the farm, and whatever the second-largest building was used for. Finally, there were odder places, like the ones that looked like tents, the few that were of an elaborate style that he couldn't identify, or the one building that looked, well... edible.

Of course, then there was the largest structure, which looked really out of place with the rest of the town and the area around it in general. It was like a tree house, except the tree portion was made out of various shades of purple and blue crystal, and it was cradling a purple castle that had golden accents reserved for its balconies and roofs. On top of that, quite literally, was a large, star-shaped crystal, like it was the top of a Christmas tree. He wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling that the star should remind him of something else, too.

Once Rarity thought that he had been given enough time to take it all in, she asked, "What do you think?"

"To be honest?" Marshall temporized, and took a few extra seconds to gather his thoughts. "I really don't know. It's not bad, but..." He struggled to find the right words for what he was trying to say, since he didn't want to upset the denizens of the town that he was commenting on. "Well, it's like an artist began by painting a quaint, medieval village. Then, when they were nearly finished with it, they were introduced to a psychotropic drug and abandoned all thought toward consistency. By and large, the town looks alright, but there are a few things that I can't make heads or tails of — that castle in the distance, for instance."

"You don't say..." Twilight Sparkle remarked as evenly as she could manage, who turned her head away to hide her face, due to being a little self-conscious about her castle.

Before Marshall could get a good read on her reaction, Rarity cleared her throat, in order to get his attention, and explained, "Well, it is the newest addition to the town, truth be told; an unplanned incident with magic, in fact."

Marshall looked at her incredulously, despite all of the other unbelievable things that he had experienced thus far. "Something like that can unintentionally appear with magic?"

Rarity, amused by the expression on his face, teasingly said, "Darling, you do recall how you were able to see that castle in the first place, don't you?"

While Marshall was looking away and rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment, Rarity remembered that she had something to do, so she abruptly said, "Anyway, I'll go on ahead and place our orders, so it will be ready when you arrive."

Marshall hadn't expected Rarity to say that, and then immediately suit actions to words, so he could only stare after her in silence as she headed toward the town at a good canter. Before he could really wonder about her behavior, Twilight Sparkle caught his undivided attention when she said, "Sorry; I kind of put her up to that."

Being no less enlightened by that bit of information, he looked at Twilight Sparkle with confusion and intelligently said, "Huh?"

Twilight Sparkle spared the retreating form of Rarity a glance, to make sure that she had reached a distance where neither party could see the other, before she sat on her haunches and refocused her attention on Marshall. "I wanted to talk to you alone... about Rarity."

Now that he understood what was going on, Marshall followed her example and sat on his haunches. He was a little nervous, though, because this was the first time that he had found himself in such a situation. "...Okay. What about?"

After a deep, calming breath, Twilight Sparkle began to speak. "I was hoping that you could help her with her workload until the two of you part."

"Why?" Marshall asked the obvious question, who cocked his head in puzzlement. "I mean, it's not just that I don't care about fashion, tailoring and the like, but I don't have any of the skills, either."

Twilight Sparkle nodded her head in understanding. "Well, you wouldn't be helping out with any of that. You see, the spell that connects you two is a construct. What that means is that a portion of her magic — most of it, in this case — is indefinitely devoted to it. While it takes very little magic to use the construct itself, it doesn't leave much magic for anything else, and, well... The work that she does demands a lot of magic to meet her standards in efficiency. Right now, she is significantly limited in how many objects she can manipulate, both in weight and quantity."

As Marshall digested all of that, he wondered if that was the explanation for why Rarity seemed to be tired during most of the morning sessions. She had said that her work was the culprit, of course, but never had she said anything about the circumstances being abnormal, or that he was indirectly linked with it. He could understand not wanting to burden someone with their problems, since he tended to keep things to himself, but still...

Desiring to get a better feel for the situation, he inquired, "Well, since you've come to me with this, I'm guessing that she hasn't hired assistants, or accepted any help?" After receiving a nod of confirmation, he added, "Why?"

The question made Twilight Sparkle deflate, her sad visage joined by a slouching posture and flattened ears, and for the first time in his life he felt the urge to hug a cartoon creature. He didn't act on it, of course, although it had nonetheless made him aware of the aesthetic element that he had been overlooking, since his attention had been focused on more important things. Of course, now wasn't the time for his mind to stray, so he continued to focus his attention on Twilight Sparkle as she began to speak.

"I really wish that I knew the answer to that," Twilight Sparkle admitted. "Her behavior makes sense, but only up to a point. We all knew that she was driven, and why, but now I'm not so sure that we understand what it is that is driving her — really driving her. I can understand why she wouldn't want any of us taking turns with assisting her every day, yet she's bound and determined to stay the current course. I just..." She stopped and released a sigh, her gaze falling to the ground.

Marshall felt a pang in his chest, an ache, and wondered what was wrong. Well, not wrong, per se, but... It was odd, since he had been a bit distant for a while, emotion-wise. He'd never felt sympathy quite like that before. Was it the alien body? Was it just him, somehow? Would being so emotionally-charged, as he had been as of late, be the cause? Either way, should he even care? Well, this particular day seemed like one for firsts anyway, so why not tack on another one?

So, he got up and sat beside Twilight Sparkle, in order to console her with a one-legged hug, and said, "You know what? I feel like trying."

Twilight Sparkle's expression was a mix of gratitude and surprise, which quickly turned to worry. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into doing it, or anything..."

Despite his own doubts on the matter, Marshall nodded his head resolutely before withdrawing from the hug. "It's not like I have anything better to do." Suddenly, it dawned on him what his volunteer work would entail, and his eyes went wide, filling to the brim with excitement. "Wait, does that mean that I get to make return visits!?"

With an amused look on her face, Twilight Sparkle rose to her hooves and half-jokingly asked, "Are you sure that you just realized that?" Upon receiving a rapid series of brain-rattling nods, she chuckled and began to walk again, with Marshall quickly catching the hint and joining her. "Well, I'll teach you how to move your consciousness between bodies later. For now, let me tell you what I can about Rarity before we reach our destination."

While Twilight Sparkle told Marshall what she felt was appropriate for him to know without learning it from Rarity herself, he absently wondered about his act of generosity. It wasn't that he lacked altruistic tendencies, but he preferred thoughtful foresight and being anonymous. He could handle things well enough if they were at arm's length, but he was generally uncomfortable about handling things personally, in part because of a distinct lack of opportunity, thus practice and experience.

It was too late to take back what he had said, so he decided that he could give it a try and hope for the best. Either way, he now had indefinite access to a magical world, and he figured that alone would be more than worth the trouble.
> Chapter 5: Meet the Ponies
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Despite how distracting the sights of Ponyville were, as Marshall was led through a dense portion of it by Twilight Sparkle, he thought that he'd done a good job of paying attention to his guide as she told him about Rarity. The only time that he had failed to do so was when he had stopped to marvel at the first pegasus that he had seen while in flight, but he hadn't missed anything because Twilight Sparkle had been patient enough to allow a brief change of topic, to answer questions pertaining to pegasi, before picking up where she had left off with Rarity.

Some of the town's denizens had greeted them along the way, although most of the time he couldn't be certain whether it was out of familiarity with his body's appearance or a disposition toward friendliness that he was greeted. Others, either without, before, right in the middle of, or after greeting him, would look at him oddly or with uncertainty. It was all understandable behavior, and he didn't see anything that looked like hostility or fear, so he didn't bother worrying about it.

Twilight Sparkle had finished telling him what she could about Rarity before reaching their destination, and while the silence that had ensued hadn't been awkward, he felt like it would be a good idea to fill the void with something. So, after a moment of thought, he said, "So, are there many, uh," he caught himself before he said "horses," because he had finally noticed the actual term being bandied about, "ponies with both wings and a horn? I don't recall Rarity mentioning them together, and you're the only one I've seen with more than one attribute, so far..."

He couldn't see it, but Twilight Sparkle looked a mite uncomfortable as she gave her response, since she didn't care for the special attention that her status tended to engender — although her expression could easily be confused with embarrassment or humility. "Ponies like myself are called alicorns." She turned her head so she could regard him while she continued to walk, and raised the wing that was below her gaze, which she spared a glance for the duration of the following sentence. "I wasn't born with these, though. As far as I know, alicorns aren't born naturally, so there have only been four — including myself — in recorded history."

When she had mentioned "alicorn," Marshall recalled that Rarity had mentioned the term before, but hadn't offered him a description of what it was. He hadn't asked about it because another detail about Twilight Sparkle had come up, which hadn't helped Rarity's case in regard to making some of her other claims any less unbelievable. It was that detail that made him stop in his tracks, as he finally realized what it was about his memory that had been teasing him, especially once he saw the connection between Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark and the star atop the nearby castle.

Seeing this, in addition to his uncertainty and nervousness, Twilight Sparkle stopped and turned around to face him with obvious concern. "What's wrong?"

"Well," Marshall began, his ears drooping slightly of their own accord when he ducked his head a bit, "I just remembered that you're a princess and, uh..."

Guessing what the issue was, Twilight Sparkle offered him a reassuring smile and said, "You don't have to worry about that, outside of formal occasions. I especially prefer my friends to be themselves around me."

Catching the hint, Marshall stared at her with a somewhat incredulous expression on his face. "You already consider me a friend?"

Twilight Sparkle nodded her head once and simply said, "Of course."

Marshall didn't really understand how that could be, but he allowed himself to relax and accept it. Just because he had never made a friend so quickly and easily in the past didn't mean that it wasn't possible. It was still fairly unbelievable, though, which wasn't helped by the fact that the only examples that he could draw from, about this kind of occurrence, were from fictional sources.

"Well, alright," he eventually said, with some of his doubt tingeing his voice.

After considering that response for a moment, Twilight Sparkle opted to ask questions about his relationships — and those of humans in general — later, once the time was more appropriate for it. There was a place that awaited their arrival, after all, and she was keen on bringing Marshall there before too long. So, she about-faced and prompted him to continue onward.

It wasn't long before they arrived at their destination, which Marshall immediately recognized from his surveyance on the hill: it was the building that had looked edible. It was much easier to see why, because the roof tiles looked like a collection of cookies, the eaves and ridge of the roof, as well as the overhang over the front door, were decorated with white frosting, and the entire top floor looked like a cupcake, one with three lit candles sticking out of its pink frosting.

Beyond that, he noted that it had at least four stories, with the second being noticeable from the front, thanks to a dormer, and the third and fourth being exclusive to a relatively-short tower. Other notable features, that were worth mentioning, were the pink-tinted windows, protruding ridge beams, the sign that hung from a bracket on the side of the building, which displayed an image of a cupcake, and the Dutch — or stable — door that just about every house in Ponyville seemed to have. There was one more thing that had caught his attention, on the second floor roof, but he had no idea what it was. His best guess was that it was a chimney, even though a much smaller version of it would have looked right at home in a fish tank — well, sans the frosting.

"Here we are," Twilight Sparkle lightheartedly stated, before pausing at the doorstep and turning her head enough to spare Marshall a glance. "This is Sugarcube Corner."

She returned her attention to the aforementioned establishment and opened its door with her magic before proceeding forward. Marshall followed, and — at first — thought that it looked dark inside because the lighting within was dim, perhaps from relying on the very light that made his pupils constrict. However, as he was crossing over the threshold, he realized that it was pitch-dark inside, not dim; he couldn't even see Twilight Sparkle, and she had only been a few feet ahead of him.

Confused by this, he spoke up and asked, "Why is it—"

Suddenly, the room was bathed in light, and the host of ponies that had been revealed simultaneously set off some party poppers and shouted, "Surprise!"

As some upbeat music began to play, his shock kept him rooted in place while he took in the sights around him. To his left was an alcove with a slightly-raised floor, which was accessed by a set of steps — ones with a finial-topped balustrade — that led one through a pair of candy cane-colored pillars. Straight ahead was what he guessed to be a service desk because of the dome-shaped call bell that was there, which doubled as a display case for the shop's goods, and beyond that was a staircase. To his right were larger display cases, and the wall behind the biggest one was full of shelves that held even more of the shop's produce, to the extent that rolling ladders were required to access some of it.

Aside from the more permanent features of the shop, there were a number of tables arranged about the room, of various sizes and shapes, with a selection of goodies and refreshments on them. There was also a small, square-shaped table that was just big enough for the phonograph that was providing the room with music. Then, of course, there was the most prevalent items in the room, because the balloons, paper streamers and whatnot were literally everywhere. They were also joined by the smaller streamers and confetti, from the party poppers, although most of it had fallen to the floor by the end of his examination.

Above the service desk hung a banner, which read, "Welcome to Ponyville, alien-from-another-universe!" Below that, in a much smaller script, was an additional message, which he had to squint his eyes to read. "Don't worry, everypony! I have it on good authority that your jobs will be safe!"

He would have thought more about that odd addition to the banner if he hadn't noticed Rarity's approach, along with the ponies that appeared to be tagging along with her. He had a feeling that Rarity had told him the names of the other ponies once, perhaps with an identifying feature or two, but no names were coming to mind, or details to match them with. With any luck, he wouldn't be put on the spot and have his memory tested during the introduction phase, which really wouldn't make for a good impression.

He had noticed Twilight Sparkle out of the corner of his eye when he had been looking around the place, who had been standing right beside him, so he wasn't caught off guard when he heard her question. "Surprised?"

Marshall nodded his head dumbly. He couldn't remember ever having a surprise party before, let alone one of this nature; it was one of those things that one didn't think about because it got filed away in the "it'll never happen to you" section of the brain. He might have been surprised by a birthday party back when he was too young to remember it, but they were easy to anticipate once one had the capacity to remember the date and understand its significance.

He didn't consider himself to be too introverted, nor particularly shy, but parties really weren't his cup of tea. It wasn't that he hated them, but the few that he had been invited to as an adult had invariably involved far more strangers and acquaintances than friends, and he just didn't feel comfortable putting his heart anywhere remotely near to his sleeve when he couldn't be sure that whatever he put out there would be safe.

Now, here he was, among another species, amid ponies that he knew next to nothing about, never mind anything regarding their culture. It was intimidating, to say the very least — as well as a mite overwhelming. Still, it wasn't something that he could just put off or leave to someone else, and he didn't want to make a bad impression, so he tried to steel himself for the trial that lay ahead of him.

Rarity had taken notice of his apprehension, so she regarded him with some concern and asked, "This wasn't too much, was it? I wanted to do something to show you my gratitude, as well as apologize, and," her concern gave way to tempered disapproval and criticism, "if you don't mind my saying so, I thought that your everyday milieu was rather... dreary."

It took Marshall a second to remember what "milieu" meant, with the aid of the context, and couldn't disagree with the assessment. He didn't care much for his lifestyle in general, where he only saw friends and family — in person — very occasionally, and didn't do much for fun outside of his home, but he was accustomed to weathering things out. The problem was that he had become desensitized to his situation, so it had become something akin to the new norm. Intellectually, he knew that he shouldn't allow things to remain the same, but he had resigned himself to token efforts in light of there being no apparent solutions that would improve matters without taking too many steps back as a consequence.

In the end, it was the thought that counted, so he smiled somewhat weakly and said, "I'll be fine. It was just... unexpected."

"Well, duh!" Voiced the all-pink pony beside Rarity, who — up until that point — had been bouncing up and down in place. "That's why it's called a surprise party, silly!"

Marshall turned his full attention to the pony who had just spoken, whose prior activity had been difficult to ignore. As he had noticed already, both her coat and hair were pink, the latter being a much darker shade than the former, while the aforementioned hair was rather disheveled in appearance. Her eyes were a light blue, and he could easily tell that her smile reached them, even as they conveyed the excitement that was broiling underneath the surface. Due to his current vantage point, and not knowing if it would be a faux pas to request a look-see or not, he didn't know what her cutie mark looked like, though he was pretty sure that she had no wings in addition to being hornless.

Rarity frowned at the interruption, since she hadn't finished her conversation with Marshall, but she decided to take advantage of it, by using it as a segue to the introductions. After clearing her throat, she said, "Marshall, this is Pinkie Pie; she's the one who put this party together."

That seemed to open up the floodgates, because Pinkie Pie exclaimed, "Hi," before continuing at a breakneck pace, instead of allowing the rest of the introductions to be made first. "I hope you enjoy the party! I was gonna do something extra-special, since I've never thrown a party for anypony from another universe before," she suddenly zipped over to Marshall's side, leaned in close and whispered behind her hoof, "that I'm aware of," then proceeded to look about herself shiftily before returning from whence she had come, "but I was advised to not go overboard, even though I run such a tight ship. Of course, if you're not having a blast," she proceeded to reach for something outside of Marshall's peripheral vision, which revealed the three balloons on her flank, and came back with a light cerulean-colored cannon, "just say the word and I'll take this party beyond the canon's limits!"

When she was met with a collection of confused or half-lidded stares, she asked, "What?" Then, the reason for their expressions seemed to occur to her, which prompted her to lightly cuff the side of her head. "Oh, sorry! The word is 'bird.'"

To Rarity's credit, she made no comment and moved things along, by gesturing toward the pony on her other side. "This is Applejack."

"Howdy!" Applejack greeted, with a tip of her Stetson hat.

Aside from noting Applejack's Southern accent and choice of headgear, Marshall saw that her coat was orange and her hair a pale yellow, with both her mane and tail tied off near their ends. She had green eyes and white freckles on the sides of her face, and — like Pinkie Pie — didn't have wings or a horn. Since she wasn't facing him dead-on, he was able to see enough of her flank to view her cutie mark, which consisted of three red apples.

Next, Rarity indicated the pony that had been standing behind the rest of the group, between Pinkie Pie and herself. "This is Fluttershy."

Said pony ducked her head a bit, enough for the forelock of her mane to cover one of her eyes, and softly said, "It's nice to meet you."

Marshall had barely been able to hear Fluttershy over the developing din of the party, but the first impression that he got of her character was rather loud and clear: she was the shy and reserved type. Appearance-wise, she had cyan-colored eyes, a light yellow coat and pink hair, and he could see a closed wing on the side that her mane covered the least. While he could see her cutie mark, the angle was such that he could glimpse the colors but not discern the image.

"Now," Rarity said, as she began to look around, "where is Rainbo—"

Right when her eyes started to rise toward something that was above Marshall's head, and Pinkie Pie seemed to lock up in a conspicuous fashion, a balloon popped right behind his ear. His human reflexes kicked in upon being startled, both figuratively and literally, and that resulted in the back half of his non-human body being launched into the air, which threatened to flip him over onto his back. While he made a valiant effort to stop his backside's momentum as he scrambled to maintain his balance on his forelegs, all that he succeeded in doing was moving forward a few steps and changing the angle of his fall...

...Which just happened to be where the head of the immobilized Pinkie Pie was located.

Between the unexpectedness of the event, and how quickly the end result was reached, no one had time to save Pinkie Pie from getting her head squashed between the floor and Marshall's posterior. At that moment, the pony who had scared Marshall began to laugh uproariously, to the extent that she was having trouble staying airborne. If not for the fact that he was the guest of honor, the other partygoers might have indulged themselves and joined the prankster; as things stood, however, some could only do so much to hold in their own mirth.

Marshall looked "up" at the pony who was responsible for his current predicament while he was too embarrassed and mortified to roll off of his back, in order to assume a more dignified posture. The pony in question was a pegasus with a sky blue coat, whose hair boasted six different bands of color, representing those found in a rainbow. Her eyes were cerise, although he had only seen them for a split second since she was laughing so hard that they were squeezed tight and lined with unshed tears more often than not. As for her cutie mark, he saw that it featured a cloud with a three-colored lightning bolt coming out of it.

While Rarity and Fluttershy extricated Pinkie Pie from underneath Marshall, who was getting to his hooves with Applejack's aid, Twilight Sparkle frowned at the laughing pegasus and — in a chiding tone — said, "Rainbow Dash. Was that really necessary?"

It took a moment for the aforementioned pony to get a hold of herself, who wiped the tears from her eyes before she casually said, "Aw, come on, Twilight. You said that humans walked on two legs, and that this guy would only be here for a day. How could I not pass that up?"

"Really, Rainbow Dash," Rarity said, sounding a bit exasperated. "I know that you didn't mean any harm by it, but you could have given Marshall the chance to know you better before pulling such a stunt, so he would know that as well."

Rainbow Dash deflated a bit upon hearing that, and had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Landing before Marshall, she rubbed the back of her neck and contritely said, "Sorry about that. No hard feelings?"

"It's fine," Marshall lied, avoiding eye contact.

Whether or not Rainbow Dash was being sincere, he just didn't want to make any more of a scene than there already was. In addition to that, he wanted to put the incident out of his mind and move things along, so he could mitigate the amount of attention that he was getting, despite the fact that he was the reason for the party.

Rarity and Applejack didn't appear to buy his response, although the latter — at the very least — might have understood his intentions, because she turned her attention to Pinkie Pie in order to address another subject. "So, Pinkie Pie, why'd ya freeze up like you did?"

"Oh, my Pinkie Sense was just confuzzled, is all," came Pinkie Pie's blithe response.

Out of curiosity, partly because it might be something of a magical nature, Marshall asked, "Pinkie Sense? What's that?"

Twilight Sparkle was the one who got to field the question, and she gave Marshall the impression that there was a story behind her answer. "Somehow, Pinkie Pie gets these feelings, which manifest themselves as particular, involuntary actions, and they can predict future events." At Marshall's incredulous stare, she added, "I don't understand it either, but I've come to accept it."

"I've never heard of it being confused, though," Applejack stated, before once again addressing Pinkie Pie. "Any idea as to why?"

"Hmmmm," Pinkie Pie hummed thoughtfully, her brow furrowed as she stroked her chin. "It could be that something was lost in translation, because it was a human reaction in a pony body. On the other hoof, perhaps there isn't an official name for the move, so it couldn't tell me. Or, mayyyybe, the applicable terms were insufficient to describe it. I mean, in a way, it's a reverse of a headbutt, but calling it a butthead would be mean, and referring to it as a buttbutt would just be silly, like you're trying to argue about something. Of course, a butt is performed with the head, so 'headbutt' already seems redundant anyway. Also—"

"Hey!" Rainbow Dash interrupted, who had taken to the air once more. She had her forelegs crossed, and looked impatient. "Are we gonna party, or what?"

Pinkie Pie gasped in shock and exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! You're totally right!"

Before Marshall knew it, he was picked up by Pinkie Pie, who declared, "I know how we can get this party started," and — in a rush — deposited him just off to the side of the shop's entrance, where a lot of ponies were already gathered. Then, before he could get his bearings on the situation, Pinkie Pie stuffed something between his lips and asked, "Do you know how to play 'pin the tail on the pony?'"

Figuring that it was their version of "pin the tail on the donkey," and that the thing in his mouth was the tail, Marshall gave a verbal response despite his lips being occupied. "Ah gesh?"

"Great!" Pinkie Pie said, before pulling out a blindfold from somewhere and tying it about Marshall's head. Then, without any warning, she proceeded to grasp Marshall and send him into an unbelievably-fast spin, which made him cry out in surprise.

Unfortunately, while Marshall had proved apt enough to walk, he was by no means a master of his new body, and that was only compounded by the unexpectedness and speed of the spin. So, not only did he lose his footing and fall upon his belly, which made him eject the pin — and attached tail — from his mouth at a notable velocity, requiring a few ponies to scramble out of the way, but the centrifugal force made him splay his limbs and extend his neck while he spun around. Due to Pinkie Pie's proximity, she got tripped up and tumbled end over end, squealing gleefully the entire time, until he slowed down enough for her to gain enough traction to roll away, which led to her bowling a few ponies over before crashing into the base of a display case.

While Rainbow Dash was incapacitated by laughter, who collapsed to the ground and began to pound it with a foreleg, Applejack went to attend to Pinkie Pie as Twilight Sparkle, Rarity and Fluttershy saw to Marshall. Between having a familiar appearance, being — technically speaking — a different species, and gaining her sympathy with this latest indignity, Fluttershy was the one to head the group as they approached him.

After Rarity used her magic to remove the blindfold from Marshall's dazed eyes, Fluttershy approached him and quietly said, "Oh, you poor thing. Are you alright?"

"...Not really," Marshall replied with a groan.

Aside from feeling a bit nauseous and sore, his pride — modest as it was — had taken quite a blow after enduring two highly-embarrassing incidents so closely together, and it didn't help that he could hear a fair amount of laughing. Unfortunately, he wasn't the type to find release through crying or getting angry, or by running away from the scene of the crime, so he was torn on how to handle the situation: because he preferred to find someplace private, where he could recover on his own. The problem with that was getting there without making it obvious that something was wrong, but that wasn't going to happen if he left the party right at that moment.

Before Fluttershy could decide on how to help Marshall, they heard Pinkie Pie yell, "Woo! That was fun!"

A few seconds later, said pony was bounding over to them without a care in the world, with Applejack trailing behind her. Upon noticing Marshall's prone state, she regarded him with worry and asked, "Awwww; you're not too tired to continue, are you?"

"I don't think that's the problem, Pinkie Pie," Twilight Sparkle dryly commented.

While Pinkie Pie was being told to be more careful, since Marshall's appearance belied his inexperience with being a pony, the subject of that conversation took things in for a moment before deciding to give the party another chance. If Pinkie Pie could laugh off her own experience, then why couldn't he? Of course, it helped to know that it wasn't out of meanness that he was being laughed at; at least, as far as his immediate company was concerned, who seemed to show enough consideration for him. It was especially apparent of Fluttershy, despite her awkwardness.

Besides which, if he was going to be making more visits in the future, then he didn't want to sour things with anyone, if it could be helped. So, he carefully got to his hooves and stood up, even though his vision still swam a little, and waited for Pinkie Pie to notice him before he said, "I think I'm up for another try."

"Are you sure, darling?" Rarity asked, as much out of worry as it was from an appraisal of his current condition.

"Yeah," Applejack seconded, with a slight frown. "You don't have to do it, if'n you don't wanna."

Marshall nodded his head to them and said, "It's fine," before he returned his attention to Pinkie Pie, who already looked ready to resume the activity. "Just don't spin me so fast, okay?"

"Okie-dokie!" Pinkie Pie readily agreed. "I'll be super-duper-extra-special-with-a-grape-on-top careful!"

Despite some of their reservations, including Marshall's own, Rarity affixed the blindfold to his head once more, while Twilight Sparkle retrieved the tail, which had embedded itself in a banister. Once the pin was secured between his lips once more, Pinkie Pie eyed him critically before she helped him to stand on his hind legs, as she did the same, and proceeded to spin him around that way. While Marshall had rarely ever danced, if one could call what he had done "dancing," he could easily picture himself being twirled by a dancing partner, like he'd seen more adept dancers do.

He was mildly dizzy by the time he was set down on all four hooves again and told that his target was straight ahead. Of course, as soon as he tried to move forward, he stumbled way off course, but was otherwise relieved that he hadn't fallen over as well. Thinking that he had a good idea of where he had tried to go initially, he moved slowly and carefully, and adjusted his course as needed.

Before long, he had a good feeling that he was close, and could even imagine the wall being right in front of him. So, he extended a hoof in front of himself to try and find it, since he didn't want to discover the wall with his face and risk sticking the tail somewhere when he wasn't ready. As luck would have it, the wall was within reach, so he eased himself closer as he pictured where the image of the pony was, which seemed unusually vivid in his mind's eye. After lowering his head and leaning it a bit more to the right, he advanced with the intention to stick the pin where it was supposed to go on the image, and he felt resistance as he pushed the pin into something, until his lips got in the way and prevented him from pushing it in any farther.

"Whoa," Rainbow Dash voiced her surprise, which made Marshall realize how quiet it had been up until that point, before conversations began to spark up around him again, "I can't believe he got it right where it needed to go."

"It was almost like he could see it," Applejack opined, whose tone conveyed her confusion instead of an accusation because she'd had a good view of Marshall's face from her vantage point.

While Marshall was trying and failing to lift the blindfold from his face with a hoof, having forgotten — for the time being — that he could have done it with magic, Pinkie Pie did it for him so she could look him straight in the eye, as she narrowed her own, before saying, "Saaaaay... You wouldn't happened to have committed foul play, in Sugarcube Corner, with a roll of duct tape, have you?"

"Huh?" Marshall voiced his confusion, as well as showing his discomfort to Pinkie Pie's invasion of his personal space.

For whatever reason, Pinkie Pie seemed to be satisfied with his response, since she drew away from him, taking the blindfold away in the process, and enthusiastically began to ask around for the next player. Since "pin the tail on the pony" was Rarity's favorite game, she began to vie for a turn, to which Pinkie Pie jokingly said, "Didn't you already have a turn?"

Since it looked like he was going to be in the way soon, Marshall rejoined Twilight Sparkle and her friends, feeling nonplussed about what had just happened. Noticing his mood, Fluttershy tried to raise his spirits with a sincere yet really low-key, "I think you did great. Woo-hoo."

Marshall couldn't help smiling a bit in response. Now that Fluttershy appeared to have warmed up to him a bit, it seemed like she might be interesting to hang out with. The others were interesting, as well; even Rainbow Dash, since he'd had some experience with her type before. Pinkie Pie, however, might require being taken in much smaller dosages.

He had just managed to thank Fluttershy when Twilight Sparkle said, "Yeah; you must have a pretty good memory if you did that unaided."

Managing something of a shrug, with a slight raise of a shoulder and tilt of the head, Marshall said, "I dunno... I'm kind of surprised that I managed to do it, honestly."

"Oh?" Twilight Sparkle inquired, her interest clearly piqued.

As he turned to watch Rarity play "pin the tail on the pony," who had just begun to search blindly for her target, he absently said, "Yeah. I just had this feeling. And when I imagined where I thought I needed to go, it was almost like I was actually seeing it."

"Well, you are a unicorn, you know," Rainbow Dash helpfully pointed out. "Maybe you used your magic without meaning to, or something."

"It's possible," Twilight Sparkle allowed, as she recalled how Marshall had more or less homed in on the location where the tail was supposed to be pinned.

She didn't permit the possibility simply because she had grown to accept that there were some things — whether they involved magic or not — that she didn't understand, but because she was familiar with how Rarity had gotten her cutie mark. If Rarity's magic could lead her to what she needed to find without any conscious input on her part, then why couldn't Marshall's help him find where he needed to pin the tail? While she didn't think that having a clone of Rarity's body would necessarily have anything to do with it, it would certainly be interesting enough to study if something of that nature happened to occur between them.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Rainbow Dash's distinct voice, along with the confusion being conveyed with it, caught her attention. She hadn't caught what had been said, but she didn't need to: because she noticed where everypony's attention was being focused, where she found Rarity removing her blindfold, who stood right next to an appropriately-placed tail. Rarity showed surprise when she noticed her accomplishment, which made Twilight Sparkle wonder if what had happened wasn't just a coincidence.

After Rarity gave her an account that was similar to Marshall's, when she hadn't been present to hear his, it was with a good helping of excitement, as well as a bit of concern, that Twilight Sparkle arranged for them to get some testing done later, before Marshall had to leave.
> Chapter 6: Eat, Drink, and be Mare-y
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	While Twilight Sparkle had some concerns regarding Rarity's and Marshall's display of "sight beyond sight," on top of her own interest in the matter, she didn't think that it warranted an immediate examination. So, she reassured them that there was likely nothing to worry about, and that they should enjoy the rest of the party. Of course, should anything new crop up, especially if it was worthy of concern, they should seek her out and apprise her of the situation.

Despite Marshall's misgivings about the party, he considered Twilight Sparkle's words to be good news for one very specific reason: the food. Now that the introductions to Rarity's other friends were over, and he was no longer at the mercy of Pinkie Pie's whims, he could investigate the array of treats being offered, whose tantalizing scents he had been too distracted to respond to until now. The only problem was that there were so many things to choose from, many of which he couldn't even begin to put a name to, and he was willing to bet that his stomach wasn't big enough to sample everything that was available.

Fortunately, Applejack noticed his indecision and decided to help him get started. She led him over to a table from which an overpowering aroma of apples wafted, and that wasn't a surprise since the apple theme was also quite apparent visually. After proudly admitting that everything on the table had been made and provided by her, she recommended starting with the basics, whereupon he got to witness how an Earth Pony put a slice of apple pie on a plate with their mouth and hooves.

While he'd found the operation interesting, he wondered if he should be worried about where he put his mouth in the future, since he'd been taught at an early age to not put his mouth on anything where another's mouth had been, and that lesson had stuck with him quite firmly. There was also the matter of using one's hooves on anything that would also encounter the mouth afterward, but he could reason how that might not be a concern for a pony, and tried to dismiss thoughts of connecting hooves to what his feelings would have been if he had been using human feet instead.

After Applejack returned the pie server and hoisted the pie-laden plate on an upward-turned hoof, she stated, "Here ya go, sugarcube; try a bite an' tell me what ya think."

Noticing that there wasn't a utensil present on the plate, Marshall stared at the offered slice of apple pie just long enough for it to become awkward before he raised his gaze to its bearer and — with some embarrassment — asked, "Um, how should I eat it?"

Applejack opened her mouth to reply, but she paused and blinked her eyes when the actual nature of the question sunk in. With a chuckle, she lightheartedly said, "I wouldn't worry too much about manners or etiquette, if that's what yer askin'."

As if to illustrate her point, Marshall spotted Pinkie Pie behind Applejack, where she began to raid a platter on another table, with her face up close and personal with its contents, until the platter was quite literally licked clean of said contents. In classic cartoon fashion, she proceeded to clean her face with her tongue before merrily bounding away without a care in the world.

His attention was brought back to Applejack when she gave him a half-lidded stare and wryly said, "I take it that Pinkie Pie just made a spectacle of herself?"

Marshall regarded her with some surprise and asked, "How could you tell?"

"I had a feelin'," Applejack replied, with an amused smile, before she made a slight gesture with the plate that was still set on her hoof, in order to draw attention back to it. "So, how's about it?"

After considering the slice of apple pie for another second, Marshall opted to eat it in a way that he was reasonably sure was pretty normal for a pony, by bringing his mouth to the food instead of the other way around. He figured that he could worry about exploring his choice of eating method later, once he had more time to observe how ponies ate their food, since he preferred to be inconspicuous as opposed to standing out or doing something that might otherwise garner unwanted attention.

He used his magic-borne telekinesis to move the plate closer before leaning in and taking a bite out of the apple pie. His eyes widened in astonishment: he hadn't expected it to taste that good. He didn't know if it was his new taste buds, the quality of the apple pie, or a combination thereof, but he had never tasted such a delicious specimen before. The apple pie was so delicious, in fact, that he'd lost enough of his concentration to lose his hold on the plate.

Applejack caught it without any problem and facetiously said, "I'll accept that as a compliment."

Marshall was a bit embarrassed despite the positive reaction, and because of it, so he quietly retrieved the plate so he could continue to enjoy the apple pie, only this time being more mindful of his hold on the aforementioned plate. Soon enough, however, Applejack engaged him in conversation, which he politely obliged. He wasn't normally so reserved, but he was really out of his element, surrounded by — and experiencing — so many new things, and he really wanted it all to work out well.

Applejack was easy to talk to, thankfully, so he eventually relaxed and opened up to her, between samplings of some of the other treats that were of the apple persuasion. For the most part, they talked about everyday things that they could both relate to, like what they did for a living, or what they liked to do when they weren't doing that. One of the more interesting topics concerned cutie marks, as well as how a pony acquired one: that led to Applejack sharing her own experience, which reminded him of Elton John's Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.

Other ponies had gathered around and seemed eager to ask their own questions, so Applejack eventually excused herself. For a time, he ended up fielding questions instead of asking his own, but he could understand why and tolerated it. While some of the questions were innocuous, others were rather troublesome — particularly those that touched upon humanity as a whole. Most of the time it wasn't the questions themselves that were the problem, but the answers, since he needed time to construct a premise and background information in order to deliver the proper perspective to go along with a number of them.

Overall, he hadn't painted a flattering picture of humanity, but he hadn't seen any point in lying, or focusing too much on the good aspects. It was kind of strange, really, seeing as he'd never really thought about and established an opinion about his own species, yet something about it had crystallized over the course of his relatively-short life, just waiting to be dug up. While his opinion wasn't outright dislike, there was plenty to be embarrassed about when relating it to another race. In the end, it was probably a good thing that the questions usually didn't probe the more sensitive and/or damning topics, although learning how divided humanity was had seemed like a pretty terrible state of affairs to the ponies.

He hadn't known that Twilight Sparkle had been nearby, taking notes, until she had asked her first question. While she hoped to document information about his species in a more thorough, exacting and official capacity at some point, that didn't mean that she would pass up an opportunity to learn something at present, especially since the impromptu preliminary could aid in framing some of her future inquiries. That was fine with him, and it didn't hurt that her questions aimed to get a general sense of humanity's progress, since that afforded him enough room to save the more unsavory bits for a better time.

Eventually, and without warning, a pair of forelegs circled around his barrel, just behind his own forelegs, and he yelped with surprise when he was lifted into the air. "Come on," he heard the distinctive voice of Rainbow Dash declare, "we've got the perfect dance for ya!"

Before he knew it, he was whisked over to what appeared to be a conga line and got deposited right behind Rarity, so close that he was partially on top of her, and it was mostly out of reflex that he set his forehooves upon her haunches. He immediately felt a pair of hooves settle onto his own haunches, and found Rainbow Dash in a similar position when he turned to look behind himself, albeit with a cheeky grin on her face. He opened his mouth to say something, without really knowing exactly what it was that he wanted to say, when Rarity moved forward, which prompted him to follow suit instead of getting stretched out awkwardly, or causing a scene by breaking the line.

"Sorry about that, darling," Rarity apologized, which helped to draw Marshall's attention back to the fore, in addition to the need to watch where he was going, "but it didn't appear as if you would be able to disentangle yourself from that situation."

"You can thank me later," Rainbow Dash jauntily interjected.

"I hope you don't mind," Rarity continued, as she turned her head to the side and regarded Marshall over her shoulder. "It's just that, if you're only going to be here for a few hours, I figured that your time might be better spent if you had a greater variety of experiences to take back with you when you return to your world, rather than spending most of it catering to the curiosities of others."

Ordinarily, Marshall might have appreciated such thoughtfulness, but said thoughtfulness had landed him — quite literally — in a rather awkward and uncomfortable situation. It wasn't the dancing part that was getting to him, even though it was certainly an awkward enough affair for him: it was how quickly and easily the ponies had invited him to an activity that involved the kind of touching that it did, and it was weird to also be on the receiving end of it as well. He had nothing against it in and of itself, but it went against the pace that he was comfortable with, and the conduct that his parents had instilled in him. Basically, he wasn't the type to place his hands anywhere around a lady's midsection on a first date, much less a platonic first meeting.

Those weren't the only strange things that his mind had to deal with, either. There was also the matter of him recognizing Rarity and Rainbow Dash as members of the opposite sex, even though he only had eyes for the human aesthetic. He wasn't sure if he should follow the adage, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," despite being a pony in Ponyville himself, but he certainly wasn't going to take advantage of the fact that he was in a female body, which he still didn't want to think too much about. It took an effort just to manage the change in body and setting, in addition to the fact that magic and transdimensional travel were real, and it wouldn't do him any good — for the time being, at least — to figure out what kind of allowances in behavior he could make as a female on top of that, in light of his self-image not being what one might consider to be feminine in nature.

"Actually," he heard Twilight Sparkle say, and a quick glance behind him revealed that she had followed him and Rainbow Dash to the conga line, having joined right behind the aforementioned pegasus, "Marshall is going to be visiting for an indefinite amount of time."

"Whoa, really?" Rainbow Dash voiced her interest in the matter.

Since Twilight Sparkle had been the pony with the plan, Marshall kept silent and let her handle what could have been a rhetorical question, since Rarity's cocked brow was what actually necessitated a response. Rarity's gaze must have unsettled Twilight Sparkle somewhat, because some of the nervousness that was sparked by it leaked into her voice as she said, "Yeah. We, uh, talked and made the arrangement along the way here."

Rarity responded to that with a slight frown and asked, "While I have no problem with Marshall returning, exactly how often will he be visiting?"

"Oh, you won't have to worry about going back to the cave," came Twilight Sparkle's reassuring reply, who had been able to read in between the lines of what Rarity had said. "Marshall will be able to move his consciousness between his body and this one. You see—"

"Aw, man..." Rainbow Dash groaned quite vocally, who turned her head enough to the side so Twilight Sparkle could see the displeased expression on her face. "Do you have to do that here, now?"

Twilight Sparkle rolled her eyes and patiently said, "It's not going to kill you to hear the explanation, Rainbow Dash."

"That's because it's not funny," Rainbow Dash slyly quipped.

"Which means she could get bored to death," Pinkie Pie "helpfully" added while she happened to be prancing by, as if her timing hadn't been planned at all. "La, la-la, la-la..."

Marshall had to see Twilight Sparkle's reaction to the pair of jokes that had just been delivered, with Rainbow Dash interpreting "kill" in a way that hadn't been intended, then Pinkie Pie taking that to contradict Twilight Sparkle's assertion. He had to clamp his lips together tightly when he saw the put-out expression that was on her face, in an attempt to not show his amusement or make more noise than the snort that he had initially failed to contain. Twilight Sparkle seemed to take it all in stride, though, since she eventually smiled a little and shook her head.

After a reserved giggle, Rarity got things back on track when she brought up a relevant concern. "So, Twilight, have you already decided where Marshall will be staying?"

"Well," Twilight Sparkle began, "since I have plenty of room at the castle, I figured he could 'rest' there while he's in his own body."

"Your castle does have an abundant amount of free space," Rarity conceded, before casually adding, "Still, should he desire to, he is welcome to stay at my home as well."

"Mine, too!" Rainbow Dash declared. Seeing the odd looks that she got from Rarity and Twilight Sparkle when she glanced from one to the other, she defensively asked, "What?"

"It was just unexpected, is all," Rarity tactfully replied.

Rainbow Dash frowned, and probably would have crossed her forelegs if she hadn't been participating in the dance. "Why wouldn't I be interested? This is an alien we're talking about, and you two don't seem to have a problem with it."

"Fine, fine," Twilight Sparkle said appeasingly, since she didn't really have an issue with it.

The aforementioned alien, who had effectively dropped off of the others' radar, spoke up and modestly opined, "I don't think I'm all that interesting, though."

While Marshall didn't make a habit of selling himself short, his words had been laden with multiple meanings and purposes. Even though he thought they were true, when taken at face value, from his perspective the ponies were the ones who were more interesting. On top of that, he wasn't so keen on having Rainbow Dash's attention, so he was hoping to put a wet blanket on her interest. It wasn't that he didn't like her, but she seemed to be the type of... pony that he would rather ease into a relationship with, to get accustomed to them and their pace, or to keep at arm's length — and that included Pinkie Pie, too.

Before Twilight Sparkle or Rarity could ask him a question regarding what he had said, or argue against it, Rainbow Dash bluntly said, "Yeah, you're probably right." At the piercing stares that she got from her friends, she hastily added, "compared to me, at least," before she got a chance to get to the point of what she wanted to say. "But, you probably know something interesting, right? Like, maybe a totally awesome game that I've never heard of?"

"I don't know," Marshall temporized, since Rainbow Dash hadn't specified the kind of game that she was interested in, which made his mind swim among the multitude of possibilities. "What are you interested in? We — humans, I mean — have a lot of games, and we're making new ones all of the time. I couldn't even begin to tell you all of the types that there are, let alone the names of the games themselves."

Rainbow Dash's ears folded back as this obstacle presented itself, and her enthusiasm was curbed a bit. "Er..." Then, she perked back up, spread her wings and suggested, "Okay, how about something where I can put these," she flapped her wings a few times for emphasis, "bad boys to use?"

"Well, that certainly narrows it down," Marshall thought to himself. However, while it came as a relief, since he couldn't think of many activities that would rely on the ability to fly, now he was worried about disappointing Rainbow Dash. After all, the activities that he had been able to think of seemed like the kind that pegasi probably would have thought up to do themselves already; that, and he imagined that pegasi were more nimble than human aircraft as well, from what he had seen of their flying ability thus far, so they may not even find any of the human activities interesting either way.

He was about to tell Rainbow Dash that he couldn't think of anything, but he paused when an idea occurred to him. While it wasn't something that humans could do, save if technology ever made it possible in the future, he figured that something would be better than nothing. "Actually, I might know a game that pegasi could play." Before Rainbow Dash could get too excited at the prospect, he added, "Unfortunately, I don't remember all of the details, so I'll look it up when I get home and tell you about it the next time I visit."

After a bit of grumbling from a disappointed Rainbow Dash, they continued to make light conversation as they danced. While Marshall put some effort toward getting into the spirit of things, like the other ponies in the conga line, dancing just wasn't his thing. It was by no means a terrible experience, of course: he just felt strange about it in general, and out of place. Still, he didn't want to disappoint or upset anyone, so he stuck with it until the dance ended.

When the conga line broke up, he found himself near a table with treats that he had yet to partake of, as well as a punch bowl, so he made a beeline for it without first seeing what his closest dance partners might be up to. It wasn't often that he could enjoy an appreciable amount of sweets, and it didn't help that his restraint was often tested by his sweet tooth, so he really wanted to indulge himself while he could, since his time in Equestria — for however long it lasted — would be the only opportunity to do so without consequence.

Some time later, while he was drinking some punch to wash down the chocolate truffles, chocolate chip muffin, checkerboard cookies and red velvet cupcake that he had recently enjoyed, he noticed Fluttershy when he looked over the rim of his cup. She was standing next to the same table as he was, near the opposite corner from where he stood, which was about two of his body lengths away, daintily eating a slice of cake from a plate that had been set near the table's edge. He noticed that she was already aware of his presence, because she spared him a furtive glance yet tried to not look in his direction otherwise.

He considered her for a moment, wondering if he should strike up a conversation with her or not, especially while the other ponies weren't interacting with him as much as they had at the beginning of the party. It wasn't just because she was a friend of Rarity's, but because he didn't like others being uncomfortable around him, since he could empathize with that. Also, his past experiences with broadcasting such feelings had made him good at hiding them, so he figured that a distraction wouldn't hurt, since how she felt was quite apparent.

"Fluttershy," he addressed her, in order to get her attention. "Would you feel more comfortable if I went somewhere else?" Which he would, if Fluttershy asked, but the nature of the question was actually an attempt to get around whatever obstacle existed between them.

Fluttershy's eyes widened a bit, and she quickly — yet still softly — said, "Oh, no, that won't be necessary." She ducked her head a bit, and her gaze began to wander away from Marshall's, only making eye contact with him occasionally. "It's just, um... Well, you see, it's, uh..."

Marshall raised one of his forelegs and leveled it toward Fluttershy in order to request that she cease what she was doing, since she was liable to continue with the false starts until she gave up, at which point she might be too discouraged or embarrassed, if not both, to communicate with him any further. In as soothing of a voice as he could muster, since he wasn't accustomed to drawing people out of their shell, he said, "Relax, okay? Unless you intend to insult me, I'll be fine with whatever you have to say."

"...Are you sure?" Fluttershy asked, who looked up at him with her uncovered eye, in a rather coy manner, while fidgeting a bit against the floor with one of her forehooves.

Thinking that the problem was her confidence, rather than the subject matter, Marshall nodded his head and said, "Of course."

That reassurance seemed to do the trick, because Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed before saying, "Well, I hope this isn't too personal, but some of my animal friends have had a similar, um, issue, so I was wondering how you felt about being the wrong gender." Her expression became one of concern. "It's not too upsetting, is it?"

Marshall stared at her blankly for a moment, since he hadn't expected that question, especially since it concerned a subject that he had purposefully been putting aside for later. However, on top of proving that he was "fine" with the question, he didn't want to dampen the timid pony's spirit, so he decided that he could — at the very least — touch upon the subject.

He began by being frank, saying, "Well, to be honest, I was trying to not think about that right now." Seeing Flutterfly's face fall, along with her ears, he quickly continued. "But, it's not upsetting me, no. Aside from my you-know-what being gone, the only other difference I've noticed is my voice, which is strange but no big deal. So far, it's the change in species that I've been aware of the most."

Appearing to be emboldened by his receptivity, Fluttershy became more animated as she said, "Oh my, yes. Twilight said that humans stand upright and walk on two legs, and that they have wriggly phalanges on the extremities of their arms, which they depend on for interacting with most things, so I can only imagine that being a pony must be very strange to you."

Marshall blinked his eyes a few times in mild surprise, in response to seeing Fluttershy open up like that, but he still managed to nod his head in a timely manner and say, "Yeah, but it hasn't been bad. It probably would have been a different story if I had more trouble walking, though; or, if I wasn't a unicorn, 'cause telekinesis is pretty handy."

From there he was able to ease them into casual conversation, away from the serious topics of before. Once Fluttershy had found her comfort zone, she was easy to talk to and pleasant company. When he got her to talk about herself, he learned that she took care of animals. While she wasn't a veterinarian, she wasn't that far off from being one, and did a number of things that they didn't do besides. He also learned that she could communicate with animals, which — he figured — would explain how she would know about the gender confusion that some of them had experienced.

Fluttershy became self-conscious and shied away a bit when he complimented her ability to communicate with animals, and expressed an interest in being able to do that himself. While he didn't press the issue, he didn't backpedal either, and made sure that she knew where he stood. Sure, the recent discovery of the existence of magic was way more interesting, but he wasn't going to forget his non-magic roots, where having the ability to communicate with animals was probably among the most realistic things that one could hope to have, if technology ever advanced far enough to make it happen.

As nice as it was to talk with Fluttershy, though, there were other ponies vying for his time, other goodies to search out and devour, as well as other activities to be introduced to. The activities, like bobbing for apples and trying to guess what ponies could bring to a hypothetical party, were alright. He also got to talk to Applejack some more, as well as Pinkie Pie, and by the end of his encounter with the latter he may have deluded himself into thinking that he understood a bit of the method behind her madness. Then, of course, there was the food... Which was probably one of the better highlights of his life, with that being more a testament of how good the food was than however lackluster his life had been up until that point in time.

When all was said and done, he'd had a pretty decent time at the party; and, by "done," that referred to the moment when Twilight Sparkle had approached and informed him that Rarity had slipped out of the party, undoubtedly to get back to work. While she hadn't done more than give him the option to follow her and provide aid, he kind of felt obligated to do so, between the allowance of making return visits to her world — and all that entailed — and being fairly reliable about priorities, especially within a context where his actions and/or behavior would likely be judged by others.

So, after Twilight Sparkle gave Pinkie Pie a heads-up about the situation, who was disappointed but understanding, he spared a table of mostly-unsampled treats a look of longing before he followed Twilight Sparkle out of Sugarcube Corner, who began to lead him to where Rarity both worked and lived.
> Chapter 7: Resident Cheval
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Marshall followed Twilight Sparkle to where Rarity could be found, he began to mentally review what he had learned about Rarity from the princess, along with the concerns that the aforementioned princess had expressed about her, which hadn't crossed his mind during the party because said party had been distracting on so many levels.

Aside from Rarity's aspirations as a fashion designer, she also had ambitions in the worlds of high society and royalty. When he had first heard about her dream to marry a prince, and — therefore — becoming a princess, he had thought it childish at first, something that a little girl would dream about until reality woke them up. However, much like Twilight Sparkle, he suspected that there was something else going on with Rarity, once he had been given more context on her actions and behavior.

For instance, when Twilight Sparkle had first met Rarity, she had said that it had been her dream to live in Canterlot. So, it was no surprise that it was also one of her dreams to open a boutique there as well. Perhaps, had Rarity not had certain obligations that kept her in her hometown, she might have closed her boutique in Ponyville to lighten her workload, since the location of the new boutique alone would have been more than enough of a justification, what with the old one being in a relatively small and remote place. Instead of doing that, she had stayed in Ponyville and branched out her business.

While that alone wasn't enough to worry about, it was once framed by what Twilight Sparkle had learned from Sassy Saddles, Rarity's manager at the Canterlot Boutique, when her concern for Rarity's well-being — and Rarity's dismissals of there being anything wrong — spurred her to seek more information on the situation elsewhere. Apparently, Rarity had once commented that she had always intended for her boutique in Ponyville to be her home base. That pretty much contradicted her desire to live in Canterlot, since it would have been a lot more convenient and sensible to work in a boutique there, had said move taken place.

It wasn't just Rarity's work situation that Twilight Sparkle had been worried about, either. She had also been concerned about the fact that Rarity was the only one — among the bearers of the Elements of Harmony — whose friendship really got in the way of what she desired to do with her life, or forced her to make sacrifices. Twilight Sparkle had been upset that she hadn't noticed it before, and it was only upon reflection that she had caught a hint of it: such as when Rarity had admitted that she had made Twilight Sparkle's dress during said pony's birthday party, in front of a host of upper class ponies; which she wouldn't have realized if not for a prior event, when Rarity had held a fashion show with the dress designs that her friends had requested for the Grand Galloping Gala.

He had to admit that the situation had his interest piqued, in addition to making him worry a bit. While he didn't know Rarity all that well, he could get behind someone who was willing to sabotage their own future and/or livelihood for their friends — especially when the desires of said friends were rather frivolous by comparison. Well, he didn't recommend taking such a drastic action, but the character behind it was admirable enough.

Still: what was going on? What did Rarity really want, if she was willing to sacrifice what — they assumed, at least — was important to her? While friendship was certainly important enough, there had to be a limit to how much someone had to accommodate for it. The problem, at least for him, was that he hadn't known Rarity nearly long enough for him to have any kind of inkling to the way that her mind worked. The only consolation to that, if one could call it that, was that her friends weren't in much of a better position, despite knowing her much longer.

He supposed that he would just have to do some... hooves-on detective work, in order to get to the bottom of things. It wasn't the sort of thing that he would have imagined himself doing in his current situation, where he got to go to a magical world in another universe, but he figured that he owed a debt for being able to do that in the first place, at the very least. That wasn't to say that he wouldn't put any of his heart into it, of course: it's just that his relationship with Rarity was still in its infancy, never mind the stage of his relationship with her friends.

When they had reached a section of the town where there were no roads, in addition to an abundance of space between dwellings, which tended to not be of the more common half-timber frame and thatch roof variety, Twilight Sparkle suddenly said, "Oh, yeah," and proceeded to regard him over her shoulder with a somewhat sheepish expression while she continued to walk. "I should probably tell you how to get back to your own body."

"That would be nice to know, yeah," Marshall lightheartedly replied.

Twilight Sparkle smiled slightly at that and began to explain how it could be done. To summarize: he just had to relax his body, clear his mind, and imagine a representation of himself as it moved from one body to the other, through whatever connection he chose to visualize as an aid. That basically meant that he had to find a comfortable and quiet place to repose, so he wouldn't be distracted by his body or environment. Just to be thorough, she also said that he could return to his human body if his current one was sent back to the Mirror Pool, or "expired," but jokingly — and somewhat awkwardly — added that she wouldn't recommend the latter. Beyond that, he was assured that whichever body wasn't being used would be in such a state that it would have the same affect as sleeping, so that was one less thing to worry about.

By the time that Twilight Sparkle had finished her explanation, he noticed which building their current course was taking them to. He had noticed the building quite a ways back, because of its size and appearance, but he hadn't been sure that it was going to be their destination until Twilight Sparkle had taken a direct route to it, when he could not see any other place where they could be going.

The windows indicated that the establishment had at least two floors, but the amount of space above them suggested that there could be as many as three or four. The walls of the ground floor, aside from the muted pink and purple border at the bottom, and the helix-striped poles that were distributed at regular intervals, were mainly periwinkle in color, with bluish-white designs around the windows. The "second" floor's coloration was a reverse of the first, except the border at the bottom used the same colors and a different design, and the poles were thinner and unattached to the walls. The windows on the first floor were large and oval in shape, with awnings of various shades of yellow and orange, while the ones on the floor above were smaller and lacking awnings. Since the width of the round building drew inward with each successive floor, there were two sloping roofs, both of a pale pink and purple checkerboard design.

Well above the door was a sign of notable size, with its middle set upon the eave, which displayed a picture of a carousel horse. It wasn't until then that he realized what the "second" floor's overall design was trying to depict, which inspired a fair amount of confusion. After all, it seemed kind of strange — but not totally out of the question — for ponies to ride other ponies. Perhaps he was just looking at it the wrong way, since it would undoubtedly be strange to see a carousel where humans rode humans, even though it certainly wasn't unheard of for humans to have other humans ride on their back. Since it was more natural for ponies to carry things on their back, technically speaking, it might not be all that unusual for them to use their own likeness for a ride if it was common enough, instead of using another load-bearing creature.

Once they were standing before the door of the establishment, Twilight Sparkle turned around to face him and stated, "This is the Carousel Boutique." Then, with a somewhat apologetic expression on her face, she added, "I'd like to take you directly to her, but... Well, she might get suspicious if I'm present."

Marshall nodded his head in understanding. "She won't be hard to find, will she?"

With a shake of her head, Twilight Sparkle said, "Not at all. If you don't see her in her 'inspiration room,' which is the second door on the left, down the corridor that's beside the first stairway that you will see, then you can find her in her bedroom, at the top of the second stairway that's at the end of the hallway."

Before Marshall had finished repeating that information to himself in his head, he was surprised by Twilight Sparkle when she gave him a quick, one-legged hug, who smiled and said, "Thanks for doing this."

"Uh, sure..." Marshall awkwardly replied, since he wasn't accustomed to receiving hugs from the opposite sex, aside from his mother and grandmother.

After he watched Twilight Sparkle fly away, in part because a flying horse was still a marvel to him, he released a sigh and turned his attention to the door. He was of the opinion that it was a bit premature to be thanked, especially since he had no expectations in regard to his performance. Not only did he not know how much — or well — he could help Rarity with her work, but his social skills were fairly lacking for his other task, however optional it may be. Still, despite his doubts, he was still being tickled by the flame that had been lit by his discovery of magic, so he was feeling adventurous enough to pursue a mystery.

With said pursuit in mind, he used his newfound magic to open the door, which took him a couple of seconds to figure out. Then, before he could fully cross the threshold, he had to stop and gape at the interior of the main room, with all of its varying shades of pink and purple assaulting his eyes, along with the sheer amount of curtains being employed, which mostly seemed to be used for decoration instead of having a more practical purpose. If what he was seeing wasn't something out of a little girl's princess fantasy, unless something sparkly was required for that image, then he didn't know what he was looking at.

With some trepidation, because it felt rather weird to be surrounded by so many things that were of a stereotypically-feminine nature, he took a few more steps forward and closed the door behind himself. As he looked for the stairs, since that was his best reference point with the directions that had been given to him, he also noted other details about the shop.

To his left were several stations that looked like vanities, though he couldn't be sure because of the wooden buckets set in front of each desk; that is, until he noticed that they weren't hollow, which made them look rather out of place as far as seating arrangements were concerned, since everything else looked so fancy and feminine. To his right was a round platform, beside which stood three mirrors, and a nearby stool suggested that Rarity did some of her tailoring while an outfit was being worn, in addition to customers being able to get a good look at themselves while wearing an item of interest. Beyond the platform was a swinging door, like the kind that he'd seen being used by a cafe before, and where it led to was a mystery to him.

He also noticed a couple of mannequins that were set aside here and there, although he supposed that they might be called "ponnequins" — or something — by the ponies. There was also a garment rack, of the variety that could be wheeled around, that had a couple articles of clothing hanging from it. Of course, since there were so many curtains, it was hard not to notice that many of the curtains had a pink, scalloped trim, while a few others simply had a pink stripe near the bottom edge, or were pulled aside in front of other curtains, with pink tie-backs that had tassels on the ends.

Since he didn't see any stairs from his current vantage point, he began to move further into the room, all while trying to ignore how out-of-place he felt within it. The notion was kind of funny, once he thought about it, since he was currently inhabiting a copy of Rarity's body, who should feel right at home at the Carousel Boutique. Considering how often he would likely be visiting the place, he supposed that he better adjust to his surroundings quickly, regardless of what his culturally-engendered notions had to say about it. It wasn't like anyone that he knew from his homeworld was going to know anything about his activities, anyway.

Eventually, he spotted a stairway at the back of the room, right behind the area that the swinging doors led to. Once he was standing in front of one of the two poles located at its base, which had yellow and yellow-orange segments intertwined in a helix configuration, and could see the corridor that he was supposed to go down nearby, he paused to spare the hallway a glance. At the very back, and on the right, he could see the second stairway that Twilight Sparkle had mentioned, in case he had to seek Rarity in her bedroom. Beside it was a door that appeared to lead outside, and directly across from it was a cased opening leading into an unknown room.

After that brief distraction, he entered the corridor and made his way to the second door on the left. Along the way, he noticed two closed doors on the right side of the corridor, as well as the fact that the corridor turned right instead of coming to an end. Unlike the other rooms in that part of the corridor, the first one on the left had a cased opening instead of a doorway, so he was able to glance inside and find out that it was a laundry room in passing, although he may not have realized its function if he hadn't watched the cartoons that had been made way before his time, since that's how he had learned about washboards.

Finally, he came to a stop outside of his destination. His ears involuntarily perked up and focused on the door when he heard the sound of a sewing machine in action on the other side, which he was slightly surprised to have recognized since he hadn't heard one since his freshman year in high school. Still, he was glad that he didn't have to look any further, since he would feel a lot better about exploring someone else's place if he were joined — and properly welcomed — by one of its residents.

After a few seconds of consideration, he decided to knock on the door with the underside of his hoof, rather than the front, and tried to do it without too much strength behind it, since he wasn't sure how loud it could get, or how much would damage the door. Fortunately, his first attempt seemed to be effective enough, because the sewing machine went quiet, followed by Rarity asking, "Who is it?"

"It's just me," Marshall replied, his voice raised.

"Marshall?" Came the incredulous reply. The door was opened, which revealed that Rarity was leaning over the table that the sewing machine was on, with her forehooves pressing down on the fabric that she had been guiding through the sewing machine. What really caught Marshall's attention, however, were the thick-framed glasses that she was wearing, which were orange and had no arms. "What are you doing here?" She looked up and to the side, as if to check something, before adding, "The party couldn't have ended already."

"It hasn't," Marshall answered, as he stepped into the room and looked around.

The room was rather... messy, for lack of a better term. He could see some organization to it, which indicated that Rarity wasn't simply being a slob, but there had to be a better way of making things as accessible as desired. Aside from the various hazards — for him, at any rate — on the floor, there were several tables with various items on them, including such things as bolts of cloth, a number of rolled-up parchments, spools of string and fabric, implements like scissors, writing utensils and measuring tape, and several other things that he couldn't readily identify. In addition to that, there were several mannequins in various stages of dress and undress, a tall, rectangular mirror, a small hutch with a couple of books on it, and a bulletin board hanging over a desk, which had several notes and concept sketches pinned to it. The only thing that seemed to be out of place, and inspired a longer look, was the canopy bed.

Rarity cocked an eyebrow and inquired, "Why did you come here, then?"

"Well," Marshall began, as he returned his full attention to Rarity, "when I heard that you had left the party early, I made the excuse that — as nice as it was — the party was too much, too soon," which was true enough, as far as his feelings were concerned, though not to the extent that it could have been the reason for his leavetaking, "and I said that I was curious about how a pony could do what you do." Which was also true, aside from the fact that he hadn't expressed anything of what he had just said to anyone until that moment: even after magic and cartoon ponies had been confirmed as being real, he had trouble envisioning how Rarity would go about doing what she did.

Rarity looked off to the side, where most of the tables were, with an unreadable expression on her face. "There isn't much to see, I'm afraid. I've had to compensate a lot because of how little of my magic is free to access, so all I can show you is a mere shadow of how I usually work."

Since he didn't know how to respond to that, Marshall decided to address it indirectly as nonchalantly as he could manage, via the opening that he had been given. "Can I help? I mean, it's obvious that this takes a lot out of you."

When Rarity's gaze returned to him, her expression was a little less unreadable, in that he could only guess that she was looking a bit tired. "Twilight put you up to this, didn't she?"

The brief look of puzzlement that had appeared on Marshall's face before he could suppress it, in addition to his silence, made her sigh and set her glasses upon the table as she stepped down from it. As she moved around the table, she answered the question that could be seen in his eyes. "Twilight is easy to read. When she had suggested that I give the others at the party a heads up on when to expect you, and — if necessary — to make any last-minute arrangements, I could tell that she had an ulterior motive." She came to a stop in front of him, and smiled wanely. "Of course, you wouldn't be the first one who has tried to help me; some of my friends didn't even bother with being subtle about it."

Not knowing what else to do, and not having much in the way of social adroitness, Marshall decided to abandon subtlety, since it appeared that some of his predecessors hadn't bothered with it anyway. "Why won't you accept their help?"

"Because it would be another matter if the time constraints or workload were out of my control," Rarity patiently replied. "But this," she went on, who paused for effect as she swept her gaze across the room, "was my choice. Just because they're my friends that doesn't mean that they should feel obligated to help me on a part-time basis, for an indefinite amount of time, when I make this kind of commitment; they have their own lives and responsibilities, after all." Her expression softened, in order to convey that she didn't have any hard feelings toward her friends as she added, "In truth, it's not that uncommon for me to work this hard, but it usually goes unnoticed if it's only for a couple of days at a time."

After a moment of careful consideration, Marshall decided to ask one more question, hoping that it wouldn't put her off. In an attempt to avoid that, he included an additional question, one that was of an innocuous nature. "Why did you make this kind of commitment, then? Are you a workaholic, or something?"

Appearing to be amused by his method of inquiry, she swept her mane aside and breezily said, "I want to be remembered as one of the best in the business, of course; become a legend, if possible. There's no way that I would be able to achieve that if I spent too much time resting on my laurels."

While Marshall accepted that as a reasonable enough explanation, something about it didn't sit right with him. He didn't know if it was something about what she had said, and he was picking up on it unconsciously, or if it might have something to do with what had happened at the party earlier, but he had the impression that something had been missing from her response.

He couldn't be sure if the feeling was even related to Rarity's motives, but he reasoned that it wouldn't hurt to stick to the original plan by trying to help her out, for one day if any. At least, it was better than trying to figure out what else to do with his time, since he wouldn't feel like he deserved to do much of anything fun and/or interesting unless he believed that he had made enough of an effort with his current objective before accepting defeat.

So, in a rare display of stubbornness, he evenly asked, "Does that mean that I can help?"

"What?" The usually-eloquent Rarity replied, who was clearly confused by his yet-to-be-known reasoning.

Marshall was already racking his brain for something more than what he currently had to argue with, but chose to start with that before Rarity had the presence of mind to shoot him down. "Well, being more productive would help you with your goal, right?" He saw her mouth opening to speak, so he quickly continued before she could. "I know what you said about your friends, but you've allowed them to help you out before, right?" He knew that he needed something more to convince her, while he had her thinking, and was relieved when something finally came to mind: what Twilight Sparkle had told him only a few minutes ago. "Plus, what I do in one body won't affect the other, and I would usually be asleep at this time anyway, so I won't mind spending some of my free time helping you out."

Rarity stared at him critically for a time as she mulled his words over, which made him feel uncomfortable. When she came to a decision, she curtly said, "Please follow me, if you would," and began to walk past him.

She led him out of the room, to the nearest door on the other side of the corridor. When her horn was enveloped in a magical aura, the door opened and the darkness beyond was chased away by an overhead light, which revealed a sizeable storage room. There were bookcases, including those with slanted shelves and cubby-holes, marked bins within the aforementioned cubby-holes, chests, baskets, tables, wall shelves, and stacks of spools, all of which contained the materials and tools of Rarity's trade. Unlike the room that they had just left, the organization made browsing its contents on hoof a lot more convenient despite the overall clutter.

Once they walked far enough into the room, Rarity stopped and began to levitate rolls of fabric — no more than two at a time — out from where they were being stored and set them down on the floor, in front of Marshall, who noticed that all of the ones being chosen were some shade of blue. Once there were a total of fifteen rolls laying before his hooves, Rarity turned to him with a faint smile and asked, "Can you tell me which one is cornflower blue?"

Marshall stared at her, his eyes slightly wide, upon realizing that he was being tested. While he may have made a good argument regarding the offer of his services, Rarity could avoid suspicion — if that happened to be her intent — if she was given a good enough reason to reject him, even though she was within her right to reject him regardless. That meant: if he didn't want to miss out on an opportunity to learn more about her, by having a good reason to spend time with her, he had to pass her test.

Which was easier said than done, since he had no earthly idea what color cornflower blue was. "Corn" made him think of the color yellow, but that clearly wasn't the kind of color that Rarity wanted him to pick, out of the bunch that had been presented to him. Still, despite how hopeless the situation seemed, there was still a one-in-fifteen chance of picking the right color; it was just a matter of deciding which one to choose.

His heart began to race as his gaze continued to rove over the selection of colors, and it felt like perspiration was gathering upon his brow. However, after he scanned the fifteen rolls from one end to the other several times, he noticed that his gaze seemed to gravitate to the sixth one from the left. When he allowed his eyes to focus on it, he began to get the impression that it was the one that he should pick. Since he didn't have any better way of choosing the right one, and considering what he had experienced since being transported to a new body, world and universe, he decided to trust in what he was feeling and pointed to the roll in question.

When he looked up to see what Rarity would say, she had the look of someone who had seen something unexpected. However, it didn't take her long to collect herself, at which point she cleared her throat and said, "That's... correct. Now," she made a gesture toward the rolls, "can you tell me which one is velour?"

Marshall was a little irritated that there was more to the test, especially since he had gotten the impression that it hadn't been planned that far. However, he could already feel his attention being drawn to one of the rolls, so he decided to go along with it, in order to confirm that what he was feeling wasn't just his imagination. So, he moved closer to the roll that he was being drawn to, which was the second one from the right, and pointed at it.

This time, Rarity worried her bottom lip and took significantly longer to respond, which he assumed to mean that his choice had been correct, at the very least. Now that he was more sure that he had a broader connection to her than what had been demonstrated at the party, and — thus — more aware of it, he got the feeling that it wasn't worry that she was feeling, but a mixture of things that he couldn't readily identify. She was hesitant and resistant, for certain, but he was able to glean that much with the aid of his eyes.

Finally, with a resolute expression on her face, Rarity looked him straight in the eye and said, "Show me how many of these rolls you can manipulate, individually, at the same time."

Normally, Marshall would have been nervous about performing such a task, like he had at the beginning of the test, but now he had a reason to feel confident despite the fact that he only had experience with levitating one object at a time. So, he didn't waste any time thinking about it, which led to him willing his influence over all of the rolls and raising them into the air. Unlike with the stones in the cave and the plate of apple pie, their combined weight was such that he actually noticed it, although they didn't feel so heavy that he felt anything that translated into strain.

He didn't need to be told that holding all of the rolls with the same aura wasn't what Rarity was looking for, partly due to said pony's unconscious cues, so he began to isolate them into separate auras. The process started slowly, but once he had peeled the first one away from the group, and got a feeling for it, his pace increased dramatically. By the time they were all separated, he began to marvel at how he was able to distinguish each individual roll, and how he managed to control them all and not drop a single one for any lack of attention.

Suddenly, he got the impression to set the rolls in a line and arrange them by shade. When he turned his questioning gaze toward Rarity, he saw that her expression had softened, and could feel that her hesitation and resistance had left her. She offered him a reserved smile and nodded her head, so he returned his attention to his latest task, relieved that the "battle" between them appeared to be over. With her non-verbal guidance, and actively keeping his awareness open to it, he was amazed at how easily he could direct all of their movements at the same time, until they were all lined up on the floor from lightest to darkest.

With that business out of the way, he relinquished his magical hold on the rolls and turned to face Rarity. "So, does this mean that you will let me help you?"

Rarity nodded her head. "If that's what you really wish to do. I just wanted to be sure that you could actually do the work, you understand."

Marshall accepted that explanation for what it was, since he felt that what she had said was true, yet it made him wonder what the fuss had been about beyond that. He could understand why she wouldn't want to disrupt the lives of her friends, but not to the point of resisting outside help as an automatic response. Hopefully, now that he had secured a steady means of spending time with her, he could either get to know her well enough to figure out what she was hiding, or, well... get that information straight from the horse's mouth.

"Frankly," Rarity animatedly continued, "I'm amazed at what you're able to accomplish with this connection of ours. It's like I'm communicating with you, only it's without words."

While Marshall shared the sentiment, he believed that there was one problem about their connection, especially if he was the only one who experienced it: being able to pick up what Rarity was feeling, and sensing the veracity of her words. It was the sort of thing that could bite him in the rear if he didn't say anything about it and Rarity discovered it later, which was a scenario that he had seen in far too many works of fiction for him to dismiss out of hand. Of course, if he told her now, she might feel that it was too much of an invasion of privacy and decide that it would be better if they kept their distance.

Well, between definitely maybe, by telling her now, and maybe definitely, if she finds out later, he supposed that the former would be for the best: even if he lost his chance to help her out, at least she wouldn't think any worse of him — her opinion may even improve. So, it was with some reluctance, and the drooping ears that accompanied it, that he said, "Say, uh... Can you also pick up on what I'm feeling?"

"Yes, I can," Rarity replied, her expression and tone serious. "I was wondering if it was the same for you, and whether I should say anything or not." After a brief pause, she proceeded to smile, and Marshall could feel that he had made the right decision. "I'm glad that you didn't hide it from me."

Marshall nodded his head self-consciously. "Are you okay with it, or...?"

Rarity turned pensive for a moment before responding. "I'll admit that it's a bit disconcerting, but we don't seem to be able to read each other's mind, and we don't notice what we're feeling if we're suitably distracted. If we both promise to never take advantage of what we do exchange, then I won't mind your company."

Finding that stipulation to be agreeable, partly because he felt that he had nothing to hide, Marshall smiled and stated, "I promise that I won't."

"Good," said a pleased Rarity. "I promise, as well."

With that settled, the rolls of fabric were returned to where they belonged, and they left the storage room in a good mood. Considering what he had been able to do with the aforementioned rolls, with Rarity's aid, Marshall was honestly looking forward to seeing how she worked, and whether or not it would be more enjoyable than the dreary job that he had back on Earth.
> Chapter 8: Three's a Crowd
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Rarity put on her glasses and prepared to pick up where she had left off with her work, Marshall stood a bit behind her and to the side, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead of him. He wasn't exactly sure what kind of demands to expect, regarding his ability to follow Rarity's unconscious input, and he didn't want to be a disappointment, so he kept his mind off of other things and tried to relax.

Before Rarity got started, she looked back at him with an expression that asked if he was sure and/or ready, and he replied with an affirmative nod of the head. Soon after, he began to sense what Rarity wanted to happen and willed it to occur with his magic. For the first several minutes his reaction time was a bit delayed and his movement of the objects often jerky, but within a half of an hour he was responding much faster and performing more smoothly, to the point of believing that they were synchronized.

By then he could tell that Rarity was in "the zone," although it was much different from the kind that he employed when it came to his own job at the deli: where he could go through the motions without much thought, which helped to keep his mind off of the agonizing passage of time. Instead, Rarity was smiling quite naturally while humming a tune that was unknown to him, looking full of energy as opposed to only putting in enough effort to get the job done and over with.

He could tell that she was genuinely happy, because he could feel it. Although he wouldn't admit it if asked, he was using that feeling to cope with what he was doing. It wasn't that helping Rarity was terrible, or even remotely comparable with his job, but it wasn't particularly interesting. What really didn't help, however, was how separated he was from the work being done: he was just standing there, virtually doing nothing, because he could help Rarity and still have plenty of his attention left over to think about unrelated things. It was boring.

Regardless, he couldn't help admiring what Rarity was doing. For many years he had entertained thoughts of being creative — in some way — himself, but they never amounted to anything worth mentioning. It wasn't that he didn't have the patience to learn, as far as he could tell, but there was a certain lack of... steam. That was especially apparent with anything that would require him to begin by learning the very basics, because starting from zero, or thereabouts, was both daunting and discouraging. That's how it had been when he had applied for a job at the deli, but necessity had been a strong motivator at the time, in addition to the fact that jobs often weren't readily available. As a result, he had ended up moving several counties away from home once he had gained employment, in order to be closer to his job, as opposed to finding a place to live that was closer to his family and friends.

On a positive note, he did find Rarity's work to be inspiring. It was amazing how many things she had hovering in convenient positions, or the number that she could move in very deliberate ways, and despite all of that she could still focus on doing precision work with her own magic and hooves. It made him wonder if he would ever have anywhere near that much skill before he had to put his transdimensional traveling days behind him, because it would be rather useful on top of being cool. Really, it was a shame that he couldn't use telekinesis back on his own world.

Since he was thinking about telekinesis, and he was bored, he decided to occupy himself with it, since he had more than enough of his concentration to spare. It didn't take him long to see something of interest: a stack of books on a small hutch. Picking up the one that was on the top of the stack with his magic, he brought it over until it was floating in front of his face, with its cover showing.

"A book about pony anatomy?" He thought to himself, wondering what Rarity would need it for. While he could suppose that it had some relevance to her work, such as in the case of the orthopedic shoes that one of his uncles had to wear, he couldn't think of a reason for why she would need it at the moment. Perhaps it had been left with the other books after a prior project.

Either way, it wasn't what he would consider to be interesting reading material at that moment, so he swapped it with the next book on the stack. This one was a book with a collection of picturesque scenery, with some details on their location and — if it applied — history. It piqued his interest a bit, so he paged through the first couple of pages without really thinking about the action, but he eventually caught what he was doing and was delighted that he could already use his magic with such finesse. After seeing a number of nice pictures, without figuring out the reason for the book's presence, he decided to move on and get back to it later if he didn't find anything more interesting.

The next book was one that covered astronomy. He wasn't sure if he would find anything interesting betwixt its covers, but it did bring to mind a part of his early childhood, when his father had picked up amateur astronomy as a hobby, which made him curious about the constellations that the ponies had developed. Since they were listed in alphabetical order, and he had no expectations to find any constellations that he would recognize, he decided to start with the first one that was listed.

Immediately, he had to pause and consider the significance of the name "Andromeda." While he wasn't familiar with most of the constellations from his own world, he knew that Andromeda was a notable enough character from Greek mythology, although he couldn't recall what story they had been featured in. He also knew the name from a galaxy and television series. Still, he didn't recall if there had been an Andromeda constellation, so he moved on, more distracted by the name choice than anything else.

He came across another familiar name a couple of constellations later, "Aquarius," only this time it was a constellation whose existence he was sure about, since it was one of the twelve from the zodiac. However, since he didn't know about its stars or their arrangement, he figured that a constellation bearing that name could just be a coincidence. Despite that, he was spurred to skip ahead a bit, to check for a constellation that he was more familiar with: his zodiac sign.

When he found "Cancer," saw that the constellation was Y-shaped, and that it was associated with the crab, he could only stare at it in disbelief. What were the odds that another world, in a different universe, would have the exact same constellation? Without a second thought, he began to look for other constellations that he would recognize. Not only did he find the rest of the zodiac, which he mostly knew by name only, but other notable constellations that he was more knowledgeable about, like Cygnus and Ursa Minor, which were nearby and connected to the pole star, Polaris, respectively. There was Ursa Major, of course, as well as Orion and his famous belt.

Before he could really begin to wonder what it all might mean, he heard Rarity say, "Marshall? Are you alright?"

Marshall turned his head in order to regard Rarity, who was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. He also noticed that there wasn't anything being levitated or moved by his magic, and that told him that he had become too distracted by his discovery to maintain what he had been doing for Rarity — which was probably how he had garnered her attention.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, unable to shake his unease. "It's just... I think all of these constellations are the same as the ones from my world."

Rarity considered that for a moment, to divine what the issue was, before realizing what Marshall could be worried about, based on prior experience. "Oh, I wouldn't be too worried about such similarities. Twilight has been to a universe where many of us — myself included — also exist, and I wouldn't be surprised if the constellations there were the same as well." Seeing that she hadn't put all of his worries to rest, she sympathetically added, "If you need more reassurances that you're not imagining all of this, though, you can talk to Twilight about it later: she knows a lot more about the subject than I do."

Marshall nodded his head in agreement and tried to put his doubts out of his mind for the time being, since he didn't want them to spoil his experience whether said experience was real or not. While he was fairly certain that he wasn't dreaming, he knew enough about the brain's capabilities, in addition to knowing so little about it in general, to be unsure of the reality of his condition. For instance, if the brain was capable of producing phantom sensations for missing body parts, could that explain the convincing feelings that were coming from his tail, despite it being foreign to his human body? He just didn't know. He also didn't know much about multiple universes, beyond what little he could recall about the theory and what he had seen in fiction, so he couldn't be sure if any of the coincidences were normal or something that his brain had fabricated.

Upon noticing that he had lost interest in reading books, Rarity decided to engage him in conversation while she worked, to help keep his mind from being preoccupied with unwelcome thoughts. At first, the subjects stayed within the working relationship that they had, regarding some of the recent fashions that Rarity had been shown, and making plans for what to explore in the near future. Once that had been exhausted, though, Rarity began to ask him questions about his time on her world.

All things new, strange and overwhelming notwithstanding, his responses were unequivocally positive. However, one comment had stood out to Rarity, because of the feelings that she had felt from him while it was being said, so she made a show out of pausing in her work and asked, "Would you like to give flying a try?"

Marshall's eyes widened at the idea that was being suggested. "That can be done?"

"Certainly, darling," Rarity confirmed with a smile. "I had the distinct pleasure of having a pair of wings myself, you know."

"Really?" Marshall couldn't help blurting out in his excitement, before reining in his emotions and sheepishly adding, "How was it? Did it take long to learn how to fly?"

"Oh, it was simply divine!" Came Rarity's enthusiastic reply, as she recalled the experience. Of course, she couldn't help thinking about her shameful behavior at the time, as connected as it was to the overall experience, and a feeling of embarrassment tempered her enthusiasm. Knowing that her change in mood had been obvious, she cleared her throat before she continued to speak. "I didn't find it all that difficult to learn how to use my wings, all said. Which was a good thing, since finding out about Rainbow Dash's participation in the Best Young Flyer competition was so last-minute." A thought occurred to her, which prompted her to add, "Of course, it probably depends on the pony, because it took weeks for Twilight to become a competent flyer."

Although Marshall had caught that flash of embarrassment, he thought that it would be best to pursue a more relevant matter instead of prying. "Twilight didn't always have wings?"

"Oh, no," Rarity answered, realizing that she had yet to mention that detail about her friend. "It was only very recently that she earned her wings."

She opted to continue her work as she proceeded to tell the story of how Twilight Sparkle earned her wings and became both an alicorn and a princess, since she didn't want to be idle for too long if she could help it. That eventually led to the tale of how Twilight Sparkle's castle came into being, which had been particularly riveting to Marshall; so much so that he hadn't realized what Rarity had been in the process of creating, when it reached its current state of development, until she had finished recounting the incident with Tirek.

While he had some questions about what he had just learned, which had sounded like something that he would have only encountered in a fictional story back on his own world, he was a tad too overwhelmed to do so. It boggled his mind that, on top of all of the other amazing things that he had experienced already, he might actually be associating with honest-to-goodness heroines — superheroines, potentially. So, for the time being, he decided to pursue a subject that he was more comfortable with, in order to avoid doing anything embarrassing or awkward.

"Will a pony be able to wear something like that?" He inquired, with a gesture toward the kimono that Rarity was in the process of embroidering. While he didn't know much about fashion, his eyes were good enough to spot how restrictive the outfit would be, especially if it was meant to fit over the hindquarters and legs of a pony.

Rarity spared him a glance before she said, "Probably not in the way that you would expect. This outfit will require a pony to stand as a human does."

"Ponies can do that?" Marshall questioned, his brow slightly furrowed.

"For a time," Rarity answered, without pausing in her work. "It's not natural, of course, so this attire should only be worn for special occasions, rather than all day. Even so, I've worked some extra support into the design, in order to reduce the chances of soreness and injury."

Marshall deferred to her expertise on the matter, so he didn't voice his doubts. Pretty much all of his frame of reference was for humans, anyway: he had no idea how pony society would react to the kimono, whether it was new to them or not. Rarity certainly knew what she was doing better than he did, so he figured that it would be best to just support her endeavor and hope that things turned out well, rather than risk doing anything that might discourage her or instill self-doubt.

Since Rarity was rather approachable, much like her friends, as if they were neither royalty nor heroines, and his feelings of awe had faded, he eventually followed up on what they had been talking about before. Not only did he learn about the purpose of Twilight Sparkle's castle, but that Rarity and the others were the "elements of friendship," and what that entailed. What really got his attention was when he found out that Rarity was the element of generosity, which showcased her in a new light.

Before he could really begin to see her in that new light, however, his ears flinched when he heard a disturbance somewhere else in the building, as if two solid-enough objects had banged into each other. He looked over at Rarity and saw that she hadn't reacted to the noise, so he was unsure if she was aware of it and didn't care, or was too focused on what she was working on to notice. A new, continuous sound, which grew louder as its source drew closer to their location, made him focus on the door and forget about mentioning what he was hearing to Rarity, which he could only guess were the sound of hooves — likely more than one set, if he was right — beating upon the floor in haste.

Seconds later, the door slammed open and a trio of young, female ponies — fillies, he belatedly recalled — rushed in, only to immediately skid to a halt upon catching sight of him. While they were bouncing their wide-eyed gazes between him and the pony whose body his own was a copy of, which looked rather comical to him, Rarity released something of an irritated sigh, stared at the fillies with a disapproving frown, and said, "Really, Sweetie Belle, girls; where are your manners?"

Rather than showing any signs of apology or embarrassment, the unicorn filly with the white coat and light green eyes, who had pale pink and purple hair, responded with mild indignation, which seemed to emphasize her squeaky voice. "But, you know how much we wanted to see the alien!"

Whether or not it was due to the first filly's initiative to speak back to the adult, because Marshall couldn't be sure, the pegasus filly with the light orange coat, purple eyes and purplish pink hair boldly added, "Yeah! The whole class went to the party after school, just like we planned!"

"Really?" Marshall found himself voicing aloud, who wasn't sure if he was up to entertaining children. He had no personal experience with tending or rearing children, which hadn't been helped by being the youngest sibling, and he had gotten mixed opinions about them from the friends who had become parents, so he was leery of handling a large group of them for any length of time — even with assistance. It wasn't that he disliked children, of course: it was just due to a general lack of confidence when it came to being able to handle them adequately, since he knew enough to know that they could be tricky, while their parents could be over-protective.

The three fillies perked up and became excited once they focused their attention on him, and the one that had yet to speak did so before Rarity could try to absolve herself of the blame being levied against her. She had a pale yellow coat, light orange eyes, and reddish pink hair. In addition to that, her mane was accessorized by a large, pink bow, and she spoke with the same accent as Applejack.

"Wow!" The filly in question exclaimed, before declaring, "She even sounds like your sister!"

"I know!" The unicorn filly replied in agreement, whom Marshall assumed was Rarity's sister, based less on her appearance than the fact that she had been the one to respond to the other filly's statement. "I'd almost forgotten what she looked like without her makeup on and her hair styled."

Apparently, Rarity didn't care much for being spoken about as if she weren't present, on top of the fillies' shenanigans in general, because she interjected with a very deliberate clearing of her throat and spoke in an admonishing tone. "Now, girls, you're being rude. Come; give our guest a proper greeting and introduce yourselves."

The fillies had the good grace to look sheepish, but only for an instant: because it was with much enthusiasm that they approached Marshall, greeted him, and gave him their names. In response, he said, "Well... My full name is Marshall Noel March, but you can just call me Marshall."

"March?" Apple Bloom inquired, who began to march in place. "Like this?"

Marshall had barely finished nodding his head once in confirmation, since the answer had seemed too obvious for him to have bothered researching the actual meaning of his surname, when Scootaloo followed Apple Bloom's inquiry up with, "What's a Noel?"

That brought Marshall up short, who felt embarrassed as he admitted, "I never bothered to find out."

"A knoll is a kind of small hill, isn't it?" Rarity helpfully offered.

Marshall shook his head. "That has a different spelling. I suppose I'll have to look it up when I get the chance."

"Speaking of learning..." Sweetie Belle began, as she regarded him intently. "Twilight told us that you'll be visiting for a while, so everyone was hoping that you could come to our school tomorrow. Could you?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo leaned over and sandwiched Sweetie Belle's head with their own, at which point they stared up at him imploringly and simultaneously pleaded, "Pleeeeeease?"

Marshall unconsciously took a step back and curled one of his forelegs up to his chest at the assault, as unexpected and bewildering as it was. Not knowing how to handle it, and not wanting to give in to such a ploy on principle, his beseeching gaze sought the only aid that he had access to. Unfortunately, Rarity merely smiled with amusement and said, "It's up to you, darling."

When Marshall returned his attention to the three fillies, they added really big smiles to their attack. He spared Rarity one more glance before he sighed in defeat and said, "Alright, fine; I guess I'll go."

His answer evoked a cheer from the fillies, which made him shake his head at the ridiculous display. Still, he took it all in stride, as the good-natured effort that it was, and asked, "When should I drop by? The earliest that I can get there is some time around noon."

Rarity chose to answer in the fillies' stead, since they were liable to take their unreasonable demands too far without realizing it. "The school day ends at three in the afternoon, so an hour before that should be fine."

Marshall chuckled inwardly at the look of disappointment that was clearly displayed on the faces before him, since he could remember a time when he also would have liked a half day off of school. Well, it was usually the whole day that he had wanted to skip, but still: he could relate. Hopefully, though, he wouldn't have any problems answering questions from a group of young ponies.

Now that the most immediate issue was out of the way, Apple Bloom decided to follow it up with a relevant question. "So, why'd ya leave the party, anyway?"

After gesturing toward Rarity with a tilt of his head, Marshall said, "She left the party early so she could get back to work. Since the reason for why I'll be sticking around is to help her with her workload, I didn't want to make any excuses not to, you know?"

While Scootaloo and Apple Bloom perked up with interest, Marshall noticed that Sweetie Belle's ears had drooped instead, and he found her expression hard to read. He only noticed it for a second, however, because that was all the time that it took for Scootaloo to distract him with, "What are you working on? Is it something that you aliens wear?"

"Marshall is a human, Scootaloo," Rarity reminded, in an attempt to improve the filly's choice of words in the future. "And, hmmmm..." She paused as she considered Scootaloo's first question. "I suppose I've made enough progress to model it, so..." While regarding Marshall, she pointed toward the mirror that was set against the wall and requested, "Marshall, would you be a dear and stand over there, and model the kimono for me?"

This time, while Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked at each other questioningly and mouthed the unfamiliar name of the outfit, Marshall had enough time to see Sweetie Belle's expression before he began to move toward the location that Rarity had indicated, and was able to determine that the filly definitely found something troubling. He didn't know what could be troubling her, though, so he focused on his current task and reminded himself to keep an eye on her.

Before he reached the mirror, Rarity levitated over a pair of shoes and set them down in front of it. The shoes in question appeared to be zori, only they were shaped for hooves and their soles were much thicker than he would have expected them to be. Since he was aware of how the kimono would be worn, he worked his rear hooves into the zori before raising himself onto his hind legs. It was then that he experienced the reason for why the soles of the shoes were so thick: the extra cushion made standing on two hooves comfortable, since ponies normally distributed their weight on four.

"What's he doin'?" He heard Apple Bloom whisper to her friends.

Since Rarity wasn't going to dress him in the entire ensemble, she didn't need his help to dress him in the kimono and obi. The tightening of the obi made him gasp a little, but it didn't interfere with his breathing, and its position and snugness seemed to make it a bit more comfortable to maintain his current posture. When she was finished, he looked at his young audience and saw that they didn't know what to think of what they were seeing. Well, except for Sweetie Belle, who seemed to have something else on her mind.

"With this piece," Rarity broke the silence, before it could become awkward, "the focus is on the scope of the panoramic image being displayed around the bottom half, which is a design that is difficult to successfully incorporate into what we traditionally wear, when standing on all four legs. However, the simple, cylindrical shape of the kimono accommodates such a seemingly-endless image quite naturally, as well as the ability to showcase it to others."

Rarity made a circular gesture with a hoof, with the underside generally facing the floor, so Marshall carefully began to turn himself about. While he was accustomed to operating with two legs, and such an action should have been simple, it didn't change the fact that his hind legs were configured differently at present, which would require some time and practice to adjust to. For the time being, he decided to settle for playing it safe, since he didn't want to fall and embarrass himself, or — even worse — damage what he was wearing.

He was reminded of the mirror when it came into view while he rotated his body, so he peered into it so he could get a better look at what he was wearing while he was showing it off. As far as he could tell, the base color of the kimono was black, in part because the scene took place at night, although much of it had been replaced with the dyes that composed the panoramic image. The image in question was of a coast, at the bottom of the kimono, mainly consisting of a beach and surf, a few objects that one was likely to find on a beach, and a lighthouse whose lamp shone like the sun. Opposite of the lighthouse, at the front of the kimono, was a softly-glowing full moon. Its light shimmered on the water below it, with the shimmering effect being aided by an array of gemstones that had enough facets to catch the light at virtually every angle. There were stars in the sky as well, and they also had gemstones set on top of them. A number of clouds graced the starry sky, partly illuminated by moonlight, although these were given more depth to their shape with stitching, which Rarity had yet to finish. Finally, there was the obi set above the scene, and he could only describe it as being wrapped up by an aurora borealis.

If not for catching sight of the figure that was wearing the outfit in the mirror, he would have spent some time to really digest what he was seeing of it, but his eyes were drawn to his alien appearance instead. When he didn't see his human visage, with its babyish countenance, hazel eyes and short, brown hair, he was struck by a strange feeling, but managed to continue moving in place instead of being caught staring at his reflection. It had helped that he had known what to expect, and had seen plenty of Rarity in the past few hours, but actually seeing himself — beyond his mind's eye — hadn't prepared him for the disconcerting effect that it would evoke from him.

Once he was facing his audience again, he could tell that Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had a better understanding of the kimono's appeal, although they weren't so interested in fashion to offer more of a reaction than that. Sweetie Belle seemed to be scrutinizing the kimono critically, but he couldn't help getting the feeling that she was actually staring at him unhappily. It may have just been his imagination, but...

"Will ponies actually want to stand like that to wear it?" Scootaloo voiced her incredulity.

"Oh, most certainly," Rarity confidently replied. "The kimono has many appealing characteristics. I have no doubt that it will trend with the upper class, at the very least, and I also expect an element or two to have an impact on the fashion scene for a time."

Seeing as she wasn't going to get much in the way of feedback from the fillies, who seemed to be either uninterested or ignorant of what she was referring to, she turned her attention to Marshall and asked, "What do you think? And are the shoes and sash providing enough support?"

Marshall decided to address the second question first, since he could see what the first question likely was for a person like himself, who had next to no knowledge and interest in fashion: a minefield. "Well, uh, the shoes are comfy, and the sash allows me to relax my back and put some of my weight on it." He paused, and struggled to think of a good answer to the first question, before giving up and tentatively admitting, "And, um, I like the sash...?"

Rarity gave him a flat stare before snorting with amusement, since she had been well aware of the position that she had put him in. With that, she began to undress him and return the kimono to the table that she had been working at, while the obi and shoes joined the others of their type on another table, in addition to the other kimonos-in-progress, since she didn't have any mannequins that could accommodate them.

Once she was finished with that task, she announced, "Well, I need to get back to work." Turning to address the fillies directly, she said, "Girls, why don't you go and inform your teacher to expect Marshall tomorrow?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were eager to relay the news, and quickly turned about to leave, but Sweetie Belle hesitated, appearing as if she wanted to say something. Before she could make up her mind, one of her friends noticed her absence and asked whether or not she was coming, which spurred her to take her own leave. While she did so, she looked over her shoulder for a few seconds, with her gaze switching between Marshall and Rarity, as if she were unsure of whom she should be upset with, or upset with more.

When Marshall was fairly sure that the three fillies were out of earshot, he turned to face Rarity and asked, "So, is Sweetie Belle your sister?" After Rarity confirmed that she was, he casually added, "I don't think she likes me."

Rather than the dismissal that he had been expecting, like being told, "You're just imagining things," which was a common enough occurrence in fiction for him to expect such a response in reality, Rarity had no trouble giving her answer while she began to continue her embroidery work on the kimono that he had just worn. "Oh, she's probably just upset that I'm allowing you — a virtual stranger — to help me, since I don't allow her the same privilege most of the time."

"Oh..." Marshall voiced, who didn't know how to respond to that.

While Rarity refocused on her work, he ended up preoccupying his mind with his latest experience, and felt a little guilty regarding what had happened with Sweetie Belle. It reminded him of the time, not long after he had been old enough to attend school, when his father had been helping his older brother put a puzzle together, and he'd had a temper tantrum when they wouldn't let him help. Sure, intellectually, he knew that he wasn't at fault for how Sweetie Belle had reacted to him, but he still felt a bit responsible, like he could have done something. He didn't feel that way because he could relate to her to any degree, though: rather, the source of his feelings could be traced back to his days in junior high.

Back then he'd only had a few friends, so it had been easy for their class schedules to keep them separated from him throughout most of the school day, and only one of them had lived close enough to him that it would not have required any of their parents to drive them to the other's house. Between that, his situation at home, and some mild bullying, he had become a bit of a copycat and class clown to fit in and endear himself to his peers. It just seemed to happen, rather than it being a product of a consciously-made plan. Fortunately, it had worked out pretty well, and he had entered high school with more than enough friends to help him feel secure in that social environment.

At some point, he wasn't sure when, he had developed a bit of a habit of getting on good terms with people that he encountered regularly, especially if they were ill-tempered early on or he was pretty sure that he had rubbed them the wrong way. As a more recent example of this behavior, his co-worker, Simon, had been rather uninterested in interacting with him — for whatever reason — upon being hired at the deli. One day, during their break, Simon had complained aloud while he was reading a text message on his cell phone, so Marshall had decided to take a chance and ask him what the matter was. Simon had been upset enough to say exactly what the matter was, regarding a friend that wouldn't be able to play Star Wars: Battlefront that night, rather than blowing him off, and offering to fill in for that friend had opened the door to a better working relationship.

So, since he preferred it when people got along with him anyway, he began to think of some way to resolve the situation with Sweetie Belle before it had a chance to get any worse. After a couple minutes of contemplation, he decided to share the idea that he had thought of with Rarity. Once he had her attention, he said, "I was wondering how often you make things that an inexperienced person — er, pony — could make with instructions or a demonstration."

Rarity blinked her eyes and regarded him with some confusion. "Now, why would you—" She seemed to realize what he had been referring to, considering the subject of their prior exchange, because she began to stroke her chin thoughtfully and mumble to herself as she cast her gaze askance. Eventually, her face lit up and she exclaimed, "What a marvelous idea!" With a beaming smile, she returned her full attention to Marshall and said, "Yes, I'm sure that I could entrust some of my more menial tasks to Sweetie Belle."

Marshall responded with a reserved smile, since he wasn't quite sure what a "menial task" meant to Rarity in relation to her trade, and thus how that might come to affect Sweetie Belle. "Well, I hope it works out, then."

When Rarity continued to regard him with a warm smile, which was the kind of attention that made him feel a touch uncomfortable, he self-consciously asked, "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Rarity casually replied, before she went back to working on the kimono. "I was just appreciating your thoughtfulness."

Marshall didn't really believe that what he had done was an act of thoughtfulness, but he didn't want to contradict her and deal with what could follow.





Rarity had declared her workday over by mid-evening, happy that she had gotten a lot more accomplished in that time than what had become normal for her as of late. By then, Marshall had decided that his stint as her assistant hadn't been all that bad. It really made a difference when your co-worker was willing to chat, and was good at keeping a conversation going, which Rarity had been keen on doing after he had made that suggestion earlier, concerning her sister.

They had talked about a lot of things, which mostly resulted in getting to know the other better, but two of the topics — in particular — stood out in Marshall's mind as Rarity escorted him to Twilight Sparkle's castle. The first topic was Rarity's dinner invitation at her parents' house, which would be scheduled for tomorrow night, Equestria time. She had figured that he would eventually meet them by chance anyway, so she had reasoned that he might as well do so in a proper fashion. He was kind of nervous about seeing her parents, even though he wasn't in that kind of a relationship with their daughter.

The second topic was one that he had brought up himself: using a more pony-like name while he was a pony, instead of his human name. While Rarity had assured him that "Marshall" would be fine, he didn't like to stand out or seem too distant, so he felt that it would be a good idea to have a more relatable name. Once he had her on board with him, he had suggested that she pick out the name for him, since she should have a better idea of what would make a good pony name — that, and he considered himself to be rather bad at coming up with names in general.

His thoughts were interrupted when Rarity suddenly stated, "Recherché."

"What?" Marshall replied, who hadn't been paying enough attention to catch what had been said.

"Recherché," Rarity repeated, as she glanced over at him with a self-satisfied expression on her face. "How does that sound for a new name?"

Marshall wasn't familiar with that name, and it sounded like it wasn't an English word, so he asked, "What does it mean?"

"Rare, or carefully-selected," Rarity informed him. "I thought that it would be a fitting name, since we're practically twins."

"Recherché, huh..." Marshall mumbled to himself, as he considered the name. It sounded more feminine than androgynous, but, well... his current body was female, after all. There was also a certain appeal to how it sounded, and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't have a hard time remembering that it was his name when being addressed by it, so he turned to regard Rarity and said, "Sounds good enough to me."

Rarity smiled happily and replied, "I'm glad to hear that, because I was already growing attached to it."

"It isn't that good," Marshall teased.

In response, Rarity expelled a playful harrumph and turned her nose up at him. "Well, see if I ever provide you with any of my services, out of the goodness of my heart, ever again."

They continued to banter like that for a time, until they neared the doorstep of Twilight Sparkle's castle. It was hard for Marshall to speak when his proximity to the castle made him realize just how immense it was, and he couldn't help gazing upon it as the light from the setting sun played on its crystal surface, as well as taking in the features that he hadn't noticed from a distance. Rarity didn't seem to mind him being distracted, so the silence that prevailed until they reached the castle was of a companionable nature.

Once they had ascended the stairs at the base of the castle, which Marshall had climbed at a pace that he could handle without incident, Rarity opened the double doors with her magic and — out of simple curiosity — asked, "Have you ever been to a castle before?"

Marshall shook his head, even as he got a glimpse of what the inside of the aforementioned castle looked like. "Nope. And I've probably seen more fictitious ones than I have real ones."

As they stepped into the castle, and entered the main hall, Rarity allowed him some time to stop and take in the sights. If he had known how, or whether or not it was even possible, he might have whistled in appreciation. Instead, he drank in the view silently and saw several things of note, beyond the height of the ceiling and open space in general.

The floor appeared to be made out of large, crystal tiles, and their surface was perfectly smooth in addition to being fairly reflective. Much of the floor was covered by a carpet, which was a faded red color aside from its borders, which were maroon. Among the faded red were light orange patterns in the form of swirls, which reminded him of plant tendrils. The carpet went through a large, fancy-looking entryway, to a stairway at the far end of the hall, which — he could just make out — branched off into two more stairways at its upper landing, but not before splitting at an intersection, where he could see several doors lining the wall that he could see on either side of the entryway.

The doors in question came in pairs, and were slightly convex at the top. Above them were lunettes, and both they and the doors were set within golden, arched frames. The walls around them, as well as the other walls within sight, were a muted purple, with images on their surfaces that were composed of other shades of purple. The images themselves were predominately those of trees, though there was at least one that was of a waterfall, which reminded him of the one behind the castle. On at least one side of the intersection, the walls extended only as far up as the balcony; from there, the walls beyond had more of a brick and mortar appearance, with a color scheme that he supposed was slate, or something thereabouts, because their gleaming quality made it hard for him to judge what color they were.

Another notable feature were the crystal pilasters, especially since two of them made up a part of the large entryway. Then there were the swallowtail banners that hung on the wall via rod and bracket, displaying varying colors and imagery, although all of their vertical borders were gold, which was the same color as the two tassels that dangled from the two points at their bottoms. Finally, there were the light sources, although the only kind that he recognized were the few sconces that he could see. Aside from them, however, were glowing gems, of a variety of colors, which seemed to be threaded through thin cords that hung from practically everywhere: the ceiling, the pilasters, and even the sconces.

Once he felt that he had seen enough, he turned to regard Rarity and asked, "So, where to?"

"If I know Twilight," Rarity replied, as she began to walk ahead, "she's probably in the library. So, let's start there."

The library, Marshall discovered, was in the "house" portion of the "tree house," which meant that he had a great many more stairs to tackle. While that turned out to be a pain, it had given him enough practice to climb them just as well as Rarity, so he was glad that he wouldn't have to worry about such a problem in the future. He was also glad that he had Rarity for a guide, because the corridors of Twilight Sparkle's castle were a maze: the ceilings and floors were the same, as well as the doors and pilasters, which were arranged in a similar, repeating pattern. There was the occasional blank space between pilasters, instead of a door, but it wasn't enough of an indicator of where one was. Considering the lack of flesh-based security, he had to wonder if that was why Twilight Sparkle hadn't bothered with helpful signs and/or plaques.

When they reached their destination, Rarity simply opened the door and entered, so he followed her example and did the same. The library wasn't of the kind that he was more accustomed to seeing, with ranges of bookshelves that made books accessible on both sides whether they were divided by a panel or not, a clearly-defined system of organization, and a catalogue of the library's contents. Instead, perhaps because the library contained a private collection, there was none of that: only bookshelves that covered the vast majority of the walls, which were tall enough to reach the bottom of the domed ceiling, and a few tables to take up a small fraction of the space that was left over. He also took note of a few posters on the pillar-like crystal formations that divided the bookshelves, with all of them displaying the same pith helmet-wearing pegasus.

At one of the aforementioned tables sat Twilight Sparkle, poring over one of the open books on the table, alongside a short stack of unopened ones. She hadn't noticed their entrance, or — if she had — didn't seem interested in having her current activity interrupted. Marshall decided to stand by and watch while the princess was approached by Rarity, who cleared her throat upon arriving at the table and clearly said, "Twilight?"

Twilight Sparkle looked up with some surprise. "Oh, Rarity." Upon noticing Marshall near the open door, she acknowledged, "Marshall," before apologetically adding, "Sorry. I just wanted to see if I could learn more about magic-based sympathetic resonance."

"Sympathetic resonance" sounded familiar to Marshall, but he couldn't place where he had heard the term before. Rarity seemed to know what Twilight Sparkle was referring to, though, because she asked, "Such a thing is possible?"

"In theory," Twilight Sparkle granted, with a nod of her head, before sparing her books a look of disappointment. "Unfortunately, there are a number of factors that have prevented any substantial — or credible — study and documentation of the phenomenon. All I've been able to find are hypotheses and anecdotal evidence, at best."

"I can imagine why," Rarity replied, before a thought made her pause. "Wait... You think that's what Marshall and I are experiencing?"

Before Twilight Sparkle could answer her, Marshall decided to interject himself so he wouldn't be completely left out of the loop, since he could read enough into the conversation to know what her answer would have been. "Um, what's sympathetic resonance?"

Rarity turned her body aside and regarded him with a somewhat guilty expression. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Do you know anything about harmonics?"

"Not much," Marshall admitted, before he could give the subject some more thought. He had a general idea of what harmonics pertained to, and he understood well enough what resonance was, so he was able to recall the last time that those things had been relevant in his life, which had been during his early years of primary school. "But, if I had to guess, are you talking about something like: making a tuning fork vibrate because another is vibrating?"

Twilight Sparkle brightened upon hearing that. "Yes! I mean, it's not exactly the same with magic, but you've got the right idea."

"Well," Rarity voiced, who regarded Twilight Sparkle with a half-lidded stare, "while we did agree to an examination, to assure that we're healthy and sound, you haven't been thinking about turning us into a research project, have you?"

Twilight Sparkle's eyes widened and her wings extended a bit from her body at the insinuation. "Oh, no! Of course not!" She denied, before turning her head away in an evasive manner. "I mean, sure, it would be a shame to miss out on something that is probably a once-in-a-millennium opportunity, and the scientific community at large will be deprived of valuable knowledge, but," she turned to smile at the other occupants of the room, who easily noticed that it was too unnatural for it to be a sincere one, "you're my friends, and friends come first, right?"

Rarity let Twilight Sparkle hang in the ensuing silence for a few seconds before she giggled and said, "Twilight, darling, I was only teasing you. You don't have to hide how you really feel about it for our sakes." While Twilight Sparkle flushed with embarrassment, she added, "So long as I'm treated with dignity, and it doesn't interfere with my work, I would be willing to submit myself to your tests."

Unexpectedly, Marshall found Rarity giving him an expectant look, so it was with an absence of finesse that he followed her up with, "Oh, uh, sure: what she said." He didn't really know what he might be getting himself into, but he felt that he had gotten to know Rarity well enough to give his trust in her a chance.

Twilight Sparkle didn't seem to notice anything wrong with his reply, since she was smiling happily. "Well, as tempted as I am to make that request right now, I think it would be more prudent to make sure that you two aren't having any issues with this arrangement."

With that said, Twilight Sparkle rose from her cushion and began to lead them to her lab, where she had the equipment that could detect both physical and magical maladies. Along the way, not long after they had left the library, Marshall's curiosity inspired him to ask, "Is that magic resonance thing really that rare?"

"Sympathetic resonance," Twilight Sparkle corrected without thinking, before addressing the question. "And, yes: it's really, really rare."

Marshall wanted to know some specifics, so he followed his last question up with what came naturally. "Why?"

"It's mainly due to biology, dear," Rarity joined in, even though she was sure that Twilight Sparkle could have handled his inquiry on her own. "You see, our wombs are only meant to accommodate one foal."

Twilight Sparkle nodded her head in confirmation. "In addition to that, it's rare for us to have multizygotic births, and even rarer to have monozygotic twins." She paused, as if to consider what to say next, or how to say it, and became more somber. "Until fairly recently, relatively speaking, bearing multiple foals carried a very high risk of death. Not only could one or both foals perish, but the mother was liable to as well."

"Not only that," Rarity spoke softly, "but even if one or both foals lived, it was very likely that at least one of them would not be... whole. It was common for them to have trouble enjoying life as other ponies do; that is, if they did not die young."

"Oh..." Marshall voiced quietly, who felt bad for asking. His head was level with his body, as if he were weighed down by what he had just learned, and he could feel his ears tilted to the lowest point that they've ever been.

Rarity walked up beside him and gave him a gentle nudge of encouragement and smiled, to show that she wasn't upset about his question. "Don't feel bad about it, darling. All of that is mostly history, now."

As Marshall's spirits were lifted, Twilight Sparkle addressed the final limiting factors that were relevant to his question. "Now, even under the best of circumstances, there are still issues that mitigate the ability of identical twins to experience sympathetic resonance. The first issue is the likelihood of being born with different dimensions, since they had to contend for the same source of nutrition in the womb, and there's also the possibility of there being at least one mild deformity. The second issue is that they will deviate even further apart as they grow older, due to their diet and lifestyle, as well as whatever maladies or injuries they happen to come by. The third — and possibly the most important — issue, is how their magic functions. This aspect affects unicorns more than the other pony tribes, although the passive and largely-innate nature of Earth and Pegasi Pony magic may greatly limit how sympathetic resonance is expressed, if it's exhibited at all."

That had given Marshall plenty to think about, so he remained silent for the remainder of the trip. Once in the lab, however, the technology awaiting within gave him plenty to talk about, since a lot of what he could see appeared to be far more advanced than what he had seen anywhere else in Ponyville, up to that point. Of course, as he was already beginning to tell, Twilight Sparkle was perfectly willing to talk about things that were of an intellectual or scientific nature.

Fortunately, the examination revealed that both Rarity and himself were problem-free. With that out of the way, he was shown to the room that he would be using during his stay, since it was nearly time for him to return to his human body anyway. Along the way there, Twilight Sparkle learned about the name that he was going to go by as a pony, since Rarity had used it with that intention in mind. It had been a pleasant surprise for Twilight Sparkle, who had been supportive and complimented Rarity on the name, since she had been familiar with its meaning.

The room that he was shown to was fully furnished and seemed fairly ordinary to him, aside from the canopy bed. He didn't know if he would ever need to use the nightstand, footlocker or dresser, or the vanity mirror on said dresser, but a fully-stocked bookcase looked like it would be a good distraction, since he could make out a few titles that were clearly aimed at educating him about the world that he was visiting. However, whoever had stocked it hadn't accepted any sacrifices when they had encountered insufficient room on the shelves, because there were a couple stacks of books on top of the bookcase.

Once Twilight Sparkle was standing in the middle of the room, on a large, round, blue carpet, she turned around to face Marshall and asked, "So, what do you think?"

"It's probably more than I'll need," Marshall honestly replied, "but it'll work. Thanks for putting this together for me."

"Think nothing of it," Twilight Sparkle graciously replied, waving it off with a gesture before the look in her eyes became more focused in purpose. "Now, before you return to your body, I'd like to organize a schedule for you."

Marshall couldn't fathom from where she had gotten her quill, inkwell and parchment, which was a cause for some distraction as he replied, "I need a schedule?"

"Not really," Rarity remarked, as she spared Twilight Sparkle a cocked eyebrow. "However, we probably should discuss our immediate plans, until we settle into a routine." Turning her attention away from Twilight Sparkle, who was slightly disappointed that her services wouldn't be needed, she looked toward Marshall and queried, "On weekdays, for instance, I assume that you'll normally be acting as my assistant?"

Marshall nodded his head before adding, "Except tomorrow, because I have that thing at the school."

Once Twilight Sparkle had been properly apprised of that particular situation, they decided to work out what Marshall would be doing the following day. Since a proper tour of Ponyville had been in the "welcoming committee's" original plans, which had been discarded because Marshall had opted to leave the party early and help Rarity, he agreed to be taken on the tour before going to the school. When Rarity mentioned his desire to fly, Twilight Sparkle was happy to accommodate him, much to his delight and gratitude.

Aside from stopping by Sugarcube Corner during the tour, because Pinkie Pie had expressed interest in the kinds of treats that humans made for themselves while Marshall had been gone from the party, he would spend some time with Twilight Sparkle after he had dinner with Rarity's family, so she could teach him a spell that would make it a lot easier for him to convey information. Beyond that, the only other plan was for Marshall and Rarity to be studied by Twilight Sparkle for a few hours during the weekend, for the sake of her sympathetic resonance research, which they had decided to agree to.

Before Marshall got ready to leave, Rarity recalled his earlier concern, regarding the reality of his experiences, and mentioned it to Twilight Sparkle. While he hadn't been able to completely wrap his head around the explanation that had followed, regarding multiple universes, he had understood enough for it to allay his concerns. Plus, he highly doubted that he had the knowledge and imagination for his mind to relate everything that Twilight Sparkle had, so there was that as well.

A few minutes later, after Twilight Sparkle and Rarity had left, Marshall got comfortable on the bed and followed the former's earlier instructions on how to move his consciousness back to his own body. He hadn't expected to be successful on his first try, or so quickly, so he was a bit surprised when he was suddenly reintroduced to his body and its familiar sensations, and saw a familiar — if nondescript — ceiling above him.

If not for his need to empty his bladder, he probably would have laid in bed for a while and contemplated his experience as a female unicorn in a magical world. It was just as well that he got such business out of the way, though, since Rarity would be connecting with him before too long. Plus, he was famished, so he figured that he should take care of that as well, while he was up.

It was while he was eating a bowl of bran flakes at his computer desk, as one of his playlists on Youtube was playing King Harvest's Dancing in the Moonlight, that he felt Rarity connect with him. Since he was beyond caring whether or not Rarity was aware of his ability to notice her connection to him, he preemptively asked, "So, what do you want to do first?"

"...Perhaps I should introduce myself," responded an unfamiliar — yet undeniably feminine — voice. "I am Princess Luna. Marshall, I presume?"
> Chapter 9: Spread Your Wings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marshall had heard a bit about Princess Luna from Rarity during their chat earlier, when he had asked whether Twilight Sparkle was a typical example of an Equestrian princess or not, since the ones in the human world — as far as he was aware — never seemed to be so personable or accessible. While she was not typical, he had been assured that all of the princesses were very nice when they weren't attending to some serious matter, or too busy performing their obligations to spend some casual time with others.

He wasn't all that surprised that Luna knew about him, since he assumed it was normal for leaders within the same nation to correspond with each other. While he didn't know if Princess Luna's "visit" was of a serious and/or official nature or not, he felt somewhat reassured that she was supposed to be a nice pony. However, it didn't do much about his nervousness, especially when he realized that he had been taking too long to reply.

"Uh, yeah, that's me..." He awkwardly replied. "Um... Hi?"

Princess Luna chuckled at his response. "I can understand why you might be nervous, but — please — be at ease: this intrusion had not been intentional."

"It hadn't?" Marshall asked, as he tried his best to follow her suggestion and relax. He eyed his cereal and wondered if it would be rude to eat it while he was talking with her. He usually ate while Rarity wasn't present, but she had never minded whenever that hadn't been the case. Princess Luna was royalty, though, so that could mean that she might be more inclined to having someone's undivided attention. So, just to be on the safe side, he decided to ignore his stomach's request for sustenance.

"It would seem," Princess Luna began to reply, "that your vehicle in our world is — for all intents and purposes — asleep and dreaming under these circumstances. As you may or may not know, it is one of my duties to watch over the dreams of my subjects. When I encountered yours, such as it is, I had not recognized it, and assumed it to be a foal's first dream."

"Wow..." Marshall breathed, still impressed despite everything that he had recently seen, experienced and learned about so far. "That's pretty cool."

"Cool?" Princess Luna repeated, sounding slightly confused. "In this context, I believe that I should take that as a compliment, correct? I'm afraid that I'm a bit behind when it comes to the expressions being used these days."

"Oh, definitely," Marshall quickly assured her. He idly wondered what she meant about being behind the times, but decided that it would probably be best to not pry, since he was still in the process of getting himself acquainted with her. "Being able to do what you're doing would be a, well... dream."

Perhaps due to noting the slight embarrassment over his word choice, Princess Luna ignored it and evenly said, "I imagine so, if the humans on your world are also bereft of magic."

"We are," Marshall confirmed, with a bit of a sigh, before admitting, "Once this thing with Rarity is over, I'm really going to miss it."

Princess Luna did not respond right away, which he assumed had been caused by the awkward direction that he had thoughtlessly — in his candidness — taken the conversation. Before he could think of a way to do something about it, the next randomly-chosen song began to play. That wouldn't have been worthy of getting his attention itself, ordinarily, except for the fact that the song in question was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, which — now that he thought about it — was the second song about the moon since Princess Luna's arrival. What were the odds of that happening?

Still, it seemed to be a good way of salvaging the conversation, because Princess Luna lightly remarked, "I approve of your choice in music."

"Well," Marshall began, who felt the need to enlighten the princess about his tastes in music, "as a fair warning, what you've heard so far doesn't even come close to covering all the kinds of music that I listen to."

"But, you like music about the moon, do you not?" Princess Luna inquired.

Marshall couldn't quite tell if there had been the slightest hint of a hopeful note in her voice, but he saw no reason to lie either way. "Not particularly. Right now I'm listening to a playlist with a bunch of odds and ends, for when I don't know what I'm in the mood for. I have it set so it picks the next song from a list that's been shuffled randomly, like this."

At "like this," he reached for his mouse and used it to skip to the next song on the shuffled list, without looking at what it was going to be. He found out soon enough, though, when the video for Fleetwood Mac's Sisters of the Moon took the last video's place. He couldn't help staring at the video's title for a few seconds, since he didn't have many songs with anything about the moon in their title, and it was highly unlikely that three of them, out of more than four hundred total videos, would happen to be shuffled together and end up playing during an unexpected meeting with Luna.

"At random, you say?" Princess Luna responded, perhaps rhetorically, because she sounded thoughtful instead of responding in a manner that he would have expected in such a situation. Of course, he reasoned that they weren't close enough to each other for her to tease him yet; that is, if she were even the type to do such a thing in the first place.

Before Marshall could offer something in reply, he once again felt a connection being made, followed by the familiar voice of Rarity. "I'm here, Marshall." She paused, probably to take in what she was seeing and hearing. "Oh; you haven't finished your breakfast, yet?"

Marshall opened his mouth to speak, but Princess Luna had decided to answer in his stead, before he could get anything intelligible out. "I'm afraid that I've been a bit of a distraction."

Rarity's response came belatedly, either because she hadn't expected to hear another voice, that's how long it had taken for her to figure out who the voice belonged to, or both. "Oh my! Princess Luna, what a pleasant surprise!" She proceeded to make some sounds that seemed to denote a small measure of distress before suddenly saying, "Marshall! Could you be a dear and bow for me?"

"...Huh?" Came Marshall's intelligent reply.

Princess Luna interjected with, "That won't be necessary, Rarity."

"But, I insist!" Rarity countered, which seemed to be at odds with her desire to be respectful, as far as Marshall was concerned. "Please, Marshall?"

Marshall could almost imagine the puppy dog eyes and pout that she might have employed against him, had she been in a position to do so, and managed to hold back a sigh as he said, "Okay, fine."

Despite it being kind of embarrassing, he stood up and bowed deeply from the waist. It wasn't so much the act itself that had been embarrassing, since he didn't mind paying his respects or displaying proper behavior when it was called for, but due to his bow being of the Japanese variety: because he couldn't quite remember how it was supposed to be done in accordance with his Western roots. Another source of embarrassment came from being aware of what his bowing would look like from an outsider's point of view, in addition to the fact that the act hadn't even been necessary.

"Well," Princess Luna said, with a hint of amusement in her voice, "as nice as this little diversion has been, there may be slumbering ponies who require my aid. Have a good night, Rarity, Marshall."

There was no telling whether or not Princess Luna had left immediately following those words, but Marshall and Rarity had offered their farewells anyway. Afterward, Rarity said, "I didn't know that Princess Luna could connect with you as well. Was there any particular reason for her visit?"

"Nah," Marshall casually replied, as he sat back down and prepared to eat his cereal. "She said that it was an accident, because she thought this had been a foal's first dream."

Sounding thoughtful, Rarity said, "You don't say..."

While something was obviously on her mind, Marshall didn't think anything of it as he ate his cereal. By the time that he had gotten his breakfast out of the way, he had a movie ready to play on his computer. While movies weren't the greatest resource for fashion, in terms of relevancy and instruction on how something was made, they did offer plenty of examples, and usually presented them within a context that provided other helpful information. As a bonus, they could be entertaining as well.

He had chosen The Court Jester for a couple of reasons. To begin with, Rarity had wanted to see bygone fashions from an earlier time period in human history, since most of her exposure had come from modern and traditional fashions, with occasional input from futuristic and technologically-advanced settings. While his choice of movie wasn't a particularly great example of the fashion that it had to offer, it was one of the few musicals that he cared for, thanks to his mother, and he was curious if Rarity would like it, since only a few of his selections had gotten a more-than-tepid reception from her thus far. Of course, with her need to focus on the exploits of a movie's costume department, as well as the department that handled the makeup and hair of the actors and actresses, rather than the plot and the source of the movie's entertainment, he wasn't all that surprised.

Fortunately, the movie had been enjoyable enough to put her in the mood for a second one, instead of following her original plan. He happily obliged her, of course, and — at his suggestion — she decided on a movie that had a fairly similar setting and range of genres: The Princess Bride. She enjoyed that movie even more than the last one, so much so that he was pretty sure that she hadn't gotten much of her work done. That hadn't gone unnoticed, of course, but she drowsily bade him a good night instead of accusing him of anything. However, that could very well change when he saw her tomorrow in person, when she was wide awake and her mood wasn't altered by a good movie.

A few minutes after Rarity had left, he was listening to music while browsing the Internet. Due to remembering one of his commitments, which he didn't want to forget, he found a site that had the rules for Quidditch and bookmarked it. That way he could go over it a few more times before "going to bed," in the hope that the information would be retained until he met up with Rainbow Dash again.

That commitment had also reminded him that Pinkie Pie would be on his schedule. While he knew what she would be interested in, he wasn't sure of what to do about it: there were so many desserts, sweets, candies and snacks out there, and he couldn't hope to remember many of them, much less their finer details. In the end, he decided to look up a few of the things that he was familiar with, if he couldn't remember seeing them at the party, and bookmarked them for future reference as well.

Finally, he decided to look up the meaning of his middle name: not only because he was curious, but — in retrospect — it was kind of embarrassing to be ignorant of it. As it turned out, "Noel" had its origins in French, and meant "Christmas." He hadn't known what to expect, but he certainly hadn't expected that. Since its meaning had been so unexpected, he decided to look up his last name as well, because it had come up earlier and he wasn't feeling so confident about its assumed meaning being accurate.

Although there were a couple of likely meanings and origins for "March," as a surname, he still had to pause when he came across its meaning in Welsh, since it meant "horse," despite his inability to find a strong connection to a surname making it an unlikely candidate. Considering his recent experience with becoming an equine creature, it would be a rather notable coincidence if that turned out to be the meaning of his last name. Of course, since it was more likely to mean "boundary," it was possible that it could be a reference to his crossing of the boundary that separated two universes instead.

After putting those thoughts out of his mind, he decided to see what "Marshall" meant, since he figured that he might as well after going through the trouble of looking up his middle and last names. Much to his shock, his first name was strongly associated with horses, with every source that he could find referencing the occupation of someone who took care of them.

He leaned back in his chair and wondered if it was really just a coincidence. Not that long ago he wouldn't have seriously considered the notion of having a destiny, or being fated, but that was before traveling to another universe and discovering that magic was real, what with both having only previously been found in fictional mediums, such as the realms of science-fiction and fantasy. Now, he couldn't say — with any appreciable amount of certainty — that fate or destiny couldn't be within the realm of possibility as well.

That thought brought his mind back to his experience as a pony. He raised one of his hands and looked at it while superimposing the image of a white hoof with his mind's eye. As he turned his hand over and flexed his fingers, he found that he hadn't really minded having hooves. Having a horn had helped, of course, but they hadn't proved all that problematic, in part because he had opted to focus on what he had wanted to do instead of trying to work that out with his body first.

When he thought about his — technically Rarity's — pony body, he didn't have anything bad to say about it either, even though it had been female. It had taken some getting used to, but it had really helped to not think about it. While he was still troubled by the thought of finding himself in a situation where a male pony — or stallion — was showing interest in him, actually being female hadn't been so strange or horrible that he would wish to avoid being one. Sure, a male body would have been his preference, since that was what he was accustomed to, but he could live with using a female one per his current arrangement.

So, whether or not he was fated to end up in a situation where he could become a female pony on a temporary basis, he didn't really mind. So many things about it were so new and interesting, and he smiled at the thought that he could probably make some nice friends while he was at it. Heck, even though they were ponies, being friends with the fairer sex might allow him to gain some insight about them, which would be helpful once he felt ready to look for that special someone.

His smile faded, however, when he reminded himself that his current arrangement would only be temporary. It would suck to get close to someone before saying goodbye forever, but he didn't want that to sabotage the chance of getting close to people, just so he wouldn't be hurt by the loss of someone close to him. He had seen enough fictional examples of what people have done in those situations to prefer making the best of things and living with the loss, instead of being stupid and/or a headache to others — to distance oneself — and living with whatever was gained out of doing that. What others found interesting about that kind of drama and angst was beyond him.

When all was said and done, he was feeling slightly giddy and nervous about his return to Ponyville, because he had decided to not be so reserved and enjoy himself now that the overall shock of the strange and new had begun to wear off. While there were still some unknowns, and he worried about messing something up when he opened up more to his new friends, he was hopeful that things would work out.

...Then he remembered the promise of future flight, and his worries flew away for a little while as he fantasized about the experience.





Time at work had seemed to pass even more slowly than usual for Marshall, due to anticipating his return to Ponyville. Even Simon had noticed his distraction and had commented on it, although it had been easy to excuse his behavior, partly because Simon hadn't really cared to begin with. All his co-worker had cared about was whether he would be free to play some Street Fighter X Tekken during the weekend. Since Marshall usually agreed to such requests, Simon had only grumbled a little bit when he had declined.

Aside from one of his friends texting him, saying that they would be in the area on Sunday, which suggested that he would be dropping by, nothing else of note had happened by the time that he had prepared himself to switch bodies: once he had gotten home, all he had to do was find something to eat while he tried his best to memorize the things that he had bookmarked earlier in the day. After that, it was a simple matter of going to bed and moving his consciousness to "Recherché."

When he opened his eyes, he saw the room that Twilight Sparkle had given to him for the duration of his stay. He also noticed that he was hungry, which seemed strange — at first — because he had just had something to eat. It wasn't a surprise that he was hungry in his current body, however, because he remembered that he had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger before returning to his original body.

As he yawned and stretched on the bed, he wondered how he was going to find his way around — and possibly out — of Twilight Sparkle's castle. He mentally chided himself for the oversight, and began to contemplate whether he should try his luck on his own or wait within the room until someone came for him. When he caught sight of the over-stocked bookcase, he perked up, thinking that he could make good use of his time if he decided to wait around. Unfortunately, his stomach wasn't the only part of nature that was calling him, and waiting around indefinitely wasn't going to help either issue.

Before he could make up his mind on what to do, his ears perked up when he heard a familiar sound: that of a page being turned. Looking about the room, he didn't see anyone who could have produced the sound, or — as far as he could tell — anything, although he did notice that there was a book missing from the bookcase after he gave it more scrutiny, since books were a prime source of page-turning sounds. Did that mean that whoever had taken the book were still close enough to be heard when they turned its pages?

He decided to wait and listen for a moment. His patience was rewarded before long, when he heard a page being turned once again. Since he doubted that he would be able to hear it beyond the door, he examined the room more closely. When he failed to see anything indicative of another's presence, he decided to look over the sides and end of the bed, even going so far as to peer underneath it, but he didn't see anyone.

Fortunately, before his confusion could give way to frustration, he recalled the fact that he was in a universe that had magic and flying ponies, and gave himself a mental smack upside the head. Sure enough, when he turned his gaze upward, he saw a sizeable indent in the canopy's fabric, but more noticeable — and telling — was the bit of rainbow-colored tail that was dangling over the side of the aforementioned canopy.

He opened his mouth to call out to Rainbow Dash, but paused when a devious idea suddenly occurred to him. While it probably wasn't the best of ideas, he figured that it would help him to learn more about the kind of pony that Rainbow Dash was, and how to interact with her in the future. So, after taking a few seconds to figure out what kind of sound to make with his new voice box, he yowled like a cat whose tail had been stepped upon while simultaneously giving Rainbow Dash's tail a sharp tug with his telekinesis.

The indent and tail disappeared as Rainbow Dash yelped in surprise, all of which told him that he had been successful in his endeavor. A second later, a book came into view as it fell toward the floor. Fortunately for said book, Rainbow Dash had recovered from her scare quickly enough to zip down and catch it before it could land, which elicited a sigh of relief from her.

With the book held protectively to her chest with one hoof, she set the others on the floor and rounded on him with an angry expression on her face. "What in the hay was that for!?"

Marshall hopped down from the bed and casually said, "Now we're even."

"Even?" Rainbow Dash echoed in confusion, before realization struck her. A host of faint expressions passed in quick succession before her face settled upon something that couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be. "Yeah, sure. I guess it's only fair."

While Marshall was glad that Rainbow Dash could take a prank as well as give it, something about her reaction had been strange. Had he been back on his own world with another human being, he wouldn't have caught it, but the cartoon-like physics allowed a more obvious conveyance of thoughts and feelings, and for the first time he understood what it meant when someone's eyes were described as smiling or twinkling, even when the rest of their visage wasn't so animated.

Between that, how her lips were currently being pressed together instead of resting naturally, and the way in which she had accepted being pranked, he had an idea of what might be going on. He decided to find out if he was right or not by getting a glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror, which he had once thought would never see any real use by him.

When it became obvious to Rainbow Dash as to what he was about to do, she groaned with disappointment and said, "Aw, man. I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

By that, she meant the monocle and mustache that had been doodled on Marshall's face while his current body had been out of commission. When he got a look of his face in the mirror, he couldn't help thinking that it looked a bit silly, since the monocle had to accommodate such a large eye and the mustache had to fit on a rather small nose. While it was kind of annoying that he was on the receiving end of a prank so soon, and by the same pony no less, he figured that he could work with it.

So, rather than address it, he turned about to regard Rainbow Dash and genially asked, "So, why are you here?"

Rainbow Dash's reply came belatedly, since she had no doubt been expecting a different response after he had seen her handiwork. "Oh, uh... Twilight asked me to show you the sights."

Marshall nodded his head at that before lowering his gaze to the book in Rainbow Dash's possession, and his curiosity compelled him to ask, "What were you reading while you were waiting for me?"

Rainbow Dash followed his gaze and seemed to be reminded that she had been holding a book to her chest, at which point she became very animated, hopped across the distance that separated them, shoved the book in his face and proclaimed, "Only the best series ever!"

Taking the book with his telekinesis and moving it to a more comfortable distance from his face, Marshall was able to read the title, Daring Do, before catching sight of a familiar pony on the cover. He regarded the still-excited pegasus with a half-lidded stare and asked, "Would that have anything to do with you being on the cover?"

"No way!" Rainbow Dash fervently denied, who appeared to be affronted. "I liked Daring Do long before I had that adventure with her. That," she pointed at the book, "is just a bonus!"

Intrigued by that, Marshall inquired, "Really? This," he spared the book a glance, "is based on actual events?" When he got a positive response, he said, "Sounds interesting. I'll try to squeeze it in while I learn more about your world from the other books."

While Rainbow Dash was happily informing him that the Daring Do series was already arranged in the proper order on the bookshelf, further scrutiny of the book's cover revealed the author's name, which made him pause. If he hadn't looked up Quidditch no more than a half of an hour ago, A.K. Yearling probably wouldn't have reminded him of J.K. Rowling, due to the scant similarities between them.

Probably as a result of noticing the expression on his face, Rainbow Dash curiously asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Marshall replied, as he looked up from the book. "It's just that the name of the author of this book reminded me of the author who wrote the series that I got that game idea from."

Rainbow Dash perked up upon being reminded of the game that she'd had to wait on. "Oh, yeah! Can you tell me about that game, now?"

"Sure," Marshall readily agreed, before receiving another call from nature, which caused him to duck his head a bit and look away in embarrassment as he added, "But, um... Can I tell you on the way to the bathroom?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Rainbow Dash awkwardly replied.

Once Marshall had returned the book to the bookshelf, he followed Rainbow Dash as she led him to the bathroom. Along the way, he told her about Quidditch in as organized of a manner as he could muster. For the most part, Rainbow Dash seemed to take in what he said and thought about it, perhaps putting mental images to words, and generally seemed interested. However, when he got to the last part, regarding the seeker's role, since they were the ones who usually determined when a game ended, Rainbow Dash's interest skyrocketed.

"Hold on," Rainbow Dash said as she came to a stop, who seemed to be having trouble holding back her excitement. "Are you telling me that it's up to the quickest player to get the most points and finish the game?" When she got confirmation, she looked off into the distance, probably to imagine herself playing the role of a seeker, and absently mumbled, "That would be so cool."

Eventually, Rainbow Dash returned to the present, whereupon she performed a wing-assisted hop and remained airborne as an expression of her enthusiasm. "Whoever came up with Kid Ditch is a genius. Man, I can't wait to get a game set up!"

Marshall was amused by her behavior, so — instead of correcting her about the name — he wryly remarked, "Well, before you do, could you help me ditch something in the bathroom so I don't end up looking like a kid before I can get there?"

It took a second for Rainbow Dash to grasp the meaning of his words. When she did, she landed and had the decency to look sheepish as she said, "Oh. Right."

The rest of the trip passed by in silence, mostly due to the fact that they hadn't been all that far from their destination. When Marshall finished his business there, Rainbow Dash was quick to notice that his face was still marred by doodles. "You're not going to wash your face?"

Glad for the distraction, since his new plumbing was going to take some time to get accustomed to, Marshall said, "I didn't want it to go to waste."

"What do you mean?" Rainbow Dash replied, with a confused look on her face.

Smiling slightly, Marshall implied his intention by saying, "Take me to Twilight and find out."

Rainbow Dash blinked her eyes once before smiling conspiratorially and agreeing to go along with whatever he had planned.

While Marshall followed her to their target, he briefly wondered if he should be pranking Twilight Sparkle. Pranking wasn't beneath him, but he was worried that he was going too far just to get along with Rainbow Dash, since it would be at another's expense even though it wasn't going to be done out of meanness. Then again, if Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash were friends, he reasoned that Twilight Sparkle was probably no stranger to being pranked. That was assuming that Rainbow Dash had a penchant for pulling said pranks, of course, but it seemed possible, given his own experiences and observations in the last twenty-four hours.

Still, he couldn't help feeling optimistic about the whole thing. His excitement over the situation, and overall desire for things to turn out well and/or fun, was probably bleeding into his perceptions, but he figured that it was better than being too worried and uptight to do anything worth mentioning. Frankly, if he had to be honest with himself, it was a relief: because the last two years as a single, independent, working adult had been far from being a bed of roses.

Eventually, Rainbow Dash opened a door that led into a room, and he took a moment to take in its appearance as he followed her in. The first thing that caught his attention was that the room was decorated, and the magenta drapes that hung across the shorter pilasters, as well as the magenta linen and pink ribbons on the window sills, made him suspect that Rarity had been behind it. Aside from those, the "windows" were framed by purple curtains, which hung from the bottom of the lunettes above them, and there were flower-filled baskets on top of the shorter pilasters and a couple of free-standing pillars that were of a more traditional design. In the middle of all of that was a gold-colored table that was lined in pink linen, which was surrounded by chairs that had pink cushions, and above them was what he could only assume was some kind of chandelier.

Sitting at the far side of the table was Twilight Sparkle, who was using a quill to write something on a piece of parchment. Unlike yesterday, when she had been too engrossed to notice someone's entry into the library, she looked up with a smile and said, "Good afternoon, Recher—" Having taken notice of the doodles on his face, she proceeded to level an accusatory stare at the suspected culprit. "Rainbow Dash..."

Before said pony could respond, Marshall quickly interjected, "Didn't do it!"

While Rainbow Dash looked back at him with curiosity, wondering what he was going to do, Twilight Sparkle appeared to be both surprised and incredulous by his claim. "She didn't?"

"Nope," Marshall replied, who tried to keep a straight face when he thought about the ridiculous story that he was about to tell. "You see, fake monocles and mustaches are a fad right now."

"Really?" Twilight Sparkle voiced her disbelief, her brow furrowed and one eyebrow slightly cocked.

Marshall managed to maintain his facade as he nodded his head and prepared to give a convincing explanation. "Yeah. You know how it is, right? Someone popular does something notable, and then others copy them?" After he received an acknowledgement that seemed to be delivered a little weakly, he continued. "Well, it began with a real monocle and mustache, but the guy that had inspired that fad had gotten tired of it and changed his image. He had a bunch of female fans around the world who had liked his former look, and some of them had put together a public petition for the return of the monocle and mustache, which was covered by the news and uploaded on the Internet. A number of them had drawn a monocle and mustache on their faces as a part of representing their cause, but all that they had accomplished was catching the attention of those who would doodle them on their own faces, whether it was to join the cause, make fun of it, or to make their own statement." He shrugged his shoulders. "And that's how the fad got started."

Since Rainbow Dash knew that he had made it up, she was now the one who was looking at him incredulously, probably wondering if such a thing was even possible. Fortunately, because she was between him and Twilight Sparkle, the princess could only see the back of her head. The aforementioned princess wasn't looking at Rainbow Dash, though: instead, she seemed to be both interested and intrigued. Which wasn't all that surprising, since she wanted to learn more about his race.

"Wow," Twilight Sparkle summed up her overall response, who wasn't all that sure of what to think about it beyond its academic relevance. "I knew that humans could relay information both quickly and globally, but I hadn't imagined that kind of impact on society." Her expression turned curious as she asked, "So, why do you have a monocle and mustache drawn on your face?"

Marshall smiled and innocently stated, "So I could play a trick on you."

Twilight Sparkle stared with incomprehension for a second. "A trick?" She frowned when she realized what he had meant. "Wait... You made that fad up?"

Rainbow Dash snickered and said, "And I can't believe you bought it!"

Despite the fact that Twilight Sparkle was weathering Rainbow Dash's mirth well, with a half-lidded stare that bespoke of a tolerance that came from experience, Marshall decided to soften the blow. "To be fair, though, I wouldn't be surprised if something like that did happen someday: we've probably done stranger and dumber things."

With a mixture of disbelief and interest, Rainbow Dash queried, "No kidding?"

Marshall gave Twilight Sparkle a significant look and said, "I can tell you about an actual fad, if you'd like." When they both accepted his offer, he took a moment to think of a good example. "Okay, this one was kind of recent: it was a game called 'planking.' Basically, people would lie face-down and imitate a wooden plank. While it could be done in fairly normal locations, a lot of people made a challenge out of it and found strange and difficult places to do it."

Rainbow Dash regarded him as if he had done such a thing. "Yeah, that's..."

"...Kind of weird," Twilight Sparkle admitted.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Marshall said, "I'm human and even I don't understand why people do stuff like that."

Before a lull in the conversation could form, Rainbow Dash focused her attention on Twilight Sparkle and asked, "So, are you ready to cast that flight spell?"

While Marshall perked up upon hearing that, and what it likely implied, Twilight Sparkle made a motion with her quill and said, "Just as soon as I finish writing this letter to Princess Luna. We're discussing the possibility of sharing a dream with Recherché." Turning to the human-turned-pony in question, she added, "That is, if you don't mind having more company?"

With that kind of revelation, Marshall was able to rein in his excitement — for the time being — and give a tentative answer. "Uh, I guess not?"

"Cool!" Rainbow Dash exclaimed, who seemed to be eager to act upon the idea. "Now I can finally get a chance to see what another world looks like!"

Twilight Sparkle showed her gratitude with a smile and said, "Okay, let me include that in my message," before she continued to compose said message.

By the time that she was finished, Marshall could tell that Rainbow Dash was getting antsy. He could kind of understand how she felt, even if for a different reason, because being so close to having the ability to fly had put butterflies in his stomach. Fortunately, that had the benefit of distracting him from his hunger somewhat.

"There," Twilight Sparkle declared, once she had the parchment rolled up and sealed with a ribbon. After setting it aside, she caught Marshall's gaze and cheerfully asked, "Now, are you ready to try out a pair of wings?"

Marshall was so keyed up that he couldn't trust himself to speak, so he ended up nodding his head rapidly instead. Before Twilight Sparkle cast the spell that would give him wings, she was thoughtful enough to take care of his facial decorations while she was putting her magic to use. With that dealt with, she closed her eyes, focused, and a second later her horn lit up with a magical aura. From that aura two streamers of magic came forth and detached from it by the time that they had each arrived at their destination: Marshall's sides.

After looking back and forth a few times, he decided to focus on just one side. Regardless, he felt — more than saw — the ends of the streamers attach to him, because it felt weird and tingly as new flesh and nerves developed in the area where the streamers had met with his body. The rest of the streamers' lengths began to coil and compress, appearing to wrap around an invisible shape — one that was reminiscent of an extended wing. Then, once both streamers had closed together so tightly that one could no longer see the space within them, they flashed brightly with a release of magic, which caught him by surprise.

While he was waiting for the afterimage of the flash to stop obscuring his vision, hoping that the act of blinking and rubbing his eyes would expedite the process, he heard Rainbow Dash ask, "How come she doesn't have the same wings that Rarity had?"

To which Twilight Sparkle replied, "That's because I used a different spell."

"Why?" Rainbow Dash queried, who sounded equal parts confused and curious.

"Because the wizard who had developed that other flight spell was vain and trying to make the spell last indefinitely," Twilight Sparkle began to explain. "That led to the wings being impractical, regarding the amount of skill and magic required to make them, and in how susceptible their function was to being compromised. While this spell will only last for two hours, approximately, it's much easier to cast, and the wings will be as durable as an average pegasus'."

Wanting to see what they were talking about, even though his world was still tinged with an unnatural coloration, Marshall looked over his shoulder to inspect one of his new wings, whose existence had been felt since their creation. Said wing was still in the same position as the streamers of magic had been in, just prior to blinding him, so he tried to fold it against his body, in the same way that Rainbow Dash's and Twilight Sparkle's wings currently were. He succeeded after a moment of trial and error, then did the same for the other wing.

By then Twilight Sparkle had approached him and began to inspect his wings critically, who began to ask him to move his wings in various ways. After several requests of that nature, she inquired, "Have you noticed any issues? Any trouble moving a certain way, or any discomfort or pain?"

Marshall shook his head in response, surprised that his new wings were as dexterous as they were. "Not that I'm aware of. I didn't even know that wings could do some of the things that you told me to do with them."

Rainbow Dash crouched a bit, spread her wings and grinned. "Oh, yeah? Well, check this out!"

While Twilight Sparkle watched on with mild amusement and disinterest, Marshall gaped at the pegasus' ensuing aerial performance. The room may have been spacious, which was kind of an understatement, but not nearly spacious enough for something that was traveling at the speeds that Rainbow Dash was able to achieve. That's what common sense told him, at any rate, but that way of thinking obviously wasn't going to fly in the universe that he was currently in. He couldn't even begin to imagine how it was possible for a flyer of any sort to make ninety degree changes in their heading instantly without coming to a stop, or decelerating enough to counter their current velocity, except by magic.

Eventually, a self-satisfied Rainbow Dash reacquainted her hooves with the floor and stated, "When you're as good as I am, doing stuff like that is easy."

Before Marshall could find his voice, due to being shocked and awed by Rainbow Dash's display, he heard an unfamiliar, boyish-sounding voice ask, "What stuff? What'd I miss?"

As out of it as he was, the strange voice had been enough of a surprise to startle him, especially since it had come from behind. Unlike yesterday, however, he jumped with both pairs of legs instead of one, and he had enough presence of mind to do so in a way that would turn him about in midair, so he could face the source of the voice. At the same time, his new, temporary wings had involuntarily spread themselves fully in reaction to being startled, although he failed to notice it.

What he found a few feet away was some kind of scaly, bipedal creature that came up to his chin in height, if one discounted the row of rounded, green plates on its head. Most of its hide was a light purple, while the scales between its chin and the underside of its tail was a greenish-white. However, what really caught his attention were the slit-pupils of its green eyes, which had widened substantially in the short span of time that he had been looking at it.

Unbeknownst to him was the fact that the creature in question had a crush on Rarity, and that the dilation of its pupils had been in response to the image that he was inadvertently presenting to it. With his wings spread, natural complexion, a hairstyle that was similar to Fluttershy's, and the chandelier located directly behind his head from the creature's point of view, his appearance was quite striking.

Since the creature didn't seem to be out of place, aside from not being a pony, he relaxed. It also helped that it was carrying a plate that had a couple of sandwiches on it, which he finally noticed and found somewhat distracting. "Um... Hi?"

That seemed to snap the creature out of whatever state it had been in, which Rainbow Dash had found funny enough to chuckle about for some reason. The creature proceeded to take a few seconds to sort itself out, which had included some mumbling to itself that he could only discern bits and pieces of. From what he had been able to gather, though, the creature had reminded itself that he was actually a dude; beyond that, he couldn't be sure of whatever else had been said.

Finally, the creature extended its free claw and returned his greeting. "Uh, hey! I'm Spike!"

Marshall offered his hoof to Spike and experienced a... limbshake? "Marshall." Realizing his mistake immediately, he mentally kicked himself. "Recherché, I mean."

"I thought you'd look more like Rarity," Spike commented, which seemed more like an effort to convince himself of that notion.

Twilight Sparkle chose that time to step into view, looking slightly amused, although it was mostly masked by her smile as she addressed Spike. "Good timing, Spike." The letter that she had recently finished writing, bathed in the purple aura of her magic, floated over to the aforementioned creature. "Could you send this to the princess?"

Marshall watched as Spike accepted the letter without preamble, held it up to his face, took a deep breath, and then... vaporized the letter with the green flame that he had expelled from his mouth. He idly watched as the smoke and flame rose into the air and whirlpooled into a nebulous ball before disappearing with a little flash, wondering if he would ever get used to seeing stuff like that happen.

The next thing he knew was the plate of sandwiches being shoved under his nose and Spike helpfully informing him, "Here! I made you lunch!"

"This is mine?" Marshall found himself asking, even as his stomach began to make more demands. He took a closer look at the sandwiches on the plate, mostly because it couldn't be helped, and noticed that much of the sandwiches' contents appeared to be hay and flowers.

"I figured you would be hungry," Twilight Sparkle answered, before glancing at Marshall's closest wing and wryly adding, "It should also give you some time to get a better feel for your wings before you try to fly with them."

Following her gaze, Marshall blushed when he discovered that he had been too distracted to notice that his wing hadn't been in the position that he had left it in, which turned out to be the case for the other wing as well. Rather than wanting to dwell on that, though, he returned his attention to what would be his current body's first meal of the day once he had pulled his wings back against his body. He was already keen on giving the sandwiches a try, and wondered what to expect in terms of flavor.

He didn't like the idea of being a sponge, though, so he asked, "Is there anything I can do to pay for it?"

"Aren't you already helping out Rarity?" Spike questioned, with a slight hint of jealousy in his voice, which Marshall mistook for the kind of tone that one used when pointing out something obvious.

Twilight Sparkle prudently added, "And don't forget that you're allowing me to study the sympathetic resonance of magic, in addition to helping me document a plethora of information regarding your race, world and universe."

"Oh," Marshall voiced, as he considered what he was being told. "Well, if you're alright with that..."

"Great!" Rainbow Dash suddenly exclaimed, with a mixture of eagerness and impatience, who proceeded to hover in the air and point toward the table. "Now, go and eat so we can get some flying in before the spell wears off."

While Marshall sheepishly moved to comply, by accepting the plate from Spike and heading toward the indicated table, Twilight Sparkle regarded Rainbow Dash with a cocked eyebrow and asked, "Why the rush?"

Rainbow Dash tried and failed to put up an innocent front. "What, flying for a few hours isn't reason enough?"

Twilight Sparkle's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You're up to something, aren't you?"

"Relax," Rainbow Dash replied, with a roll of her eyes. "It's nothing like what you're thinking — honest!"

Before Twilight Sparkle could respond to that, Rainbow Dash flew over to the table and sat opposite of Marshall, so she could demonstrate simple wing exercises that he could do while he ate. With a sigh, Twilight Sparkle decided to drop the issue and join them, since she didn't have anything that required her immediate attention while she waited for Princess Luna's response to her latest letter.

The sandwiches, Marshall soon discovered, were agreeable to his new taste buds. However, while his hunger was being attended to, most of his attention was on Rainbow Dash and copying what she was doing with her wings. Eating flowers and hay may have been new, but flying was a lot more interesting and Rainbow Dash's enthusiasm only stoked his own further.

Despite never having anything remotely like wings to draw some semblance of experience from, like he had when it had come to walking like a quadruped, it hadn't taken him long to learn how to move his wings well enough to match Rainbow Dash's form and pace. He figured that he had Rarity to thank for that, since she had once had the opportunity to fly with her own wings, even though it had sounded like she had gotten a pair that had been different in some way.

It never crossed his mind to ask about her wings, though. In fact, between his own anxious anticipation and Rainbow Dash's eagerness to help him learn how to fly, he didn't even think to ask what kind of creature Spike was. Instead, he eagerly followed Rainbow Dash as soon as he was done eating, not even realizing that he was running at a gallop to keep up with the flying pegasus.

Fortunately, before he was out of earshot, he heard Twilight Sparkle yell, "Oh! Recherché! Please tell Sweetie Belle to see her sister after school!"

When he made it outside, he found Rainbow Dash waiting for him, standing near the base of the stairs. Upon reaching her, she readily asked, "So, are you ready?"

With his nervousness over one important fact finally driving a wedge into his enthusiasm, now that flight was about to become a reality, Marshall tentatively responded with, "Um, I know I'll be fine if this body dies, but, uh... That won't happen, right?"

"Nah," Rainbow Dash casually replied, waving his concern away with a hoof. "If it looks that bad, I'll come in and save ya, alright?"

Reassured by that, since he didn't want to experience any death-related injuries, Marshall's enthusiasm made a comeback as he asked, "Okay, so what do I do?"

"First," Rainbow Dash began, who assumed a more serious demeanor, "you'll need to find your equilibrium in the air. Before you can go anywhere, you need to learn how to go nowhere. Got it?"

"I think so..." Came Marshall's uncertain reply.

Rainbow Dash smirked slightly with amusement. "Just flap your wings hard enough to get yourself off the ground — even a few inches will do — and try your best to stay where you are, okay?"

Since that sounded simple enough to do, Marshall nodded his head with determination before spreading his wings, ready to give it a try.
> Chapter 10: A Dash of Rainbow
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marshall could hear Rainbow Dash's laughter as he struggled to swim toward the surface. His emotional state had distracted him so much that he had fallen back on what little he knew of the mechanics of flight from his own universe, rather than what he had been able to guess and ascertain from seeing other ponies fly in the universe he was currently in. As a result, he had flapped his wings hard enough to take off like a rocket, due to the disparity between his weight and the size of his wings. To make matters more complicated, not knowing the intricacies of how to direct his movement had sent him flying at a backward angle, and his attempts to correct it had only made things worse because they immediately sent him into disorienting spins and rolls. Eventually, he had bounced off of Twilight Sparkle's castle, which had stunned him long enough for him to plummet into the lake before he could try using his wings again.

When he finally broke the surface, he tried to orient himself so he could face Rainbow Dash and properly express his discontent. It took a bit of doing, but moving his legs in a way that was reminiscent of walking seemed to be adequate enough to keep his head above the water, so it didn't take him long to figure out how to move forward and turn. As he slowly swam toward the bank, he directed a glare at the pegasus that found his situation so amusing, although he suspected that the hair that was plastered over most of his face was ruining the effect, partly because it seemed to have inspired another round of laughter from the aforementioned pegasus.

Once he was on dry land, and could devote a forehoof to clearing the hair from his face, he muttered, "It wasn't that funny."

"Not from where I was standing," Rainbow Dash cheekily replied, who allowed herself a few more chuckles before addressing the matter at hand. "Anyway, lemme take care of that for ya."

Before Marshall could find out what "that" was, exactly, Rainbow Dash was already in motion. He soon found himself in the middle of a rainbow-colored tornado, which Rainbow Dash managed to achieve by flying around him very, very quickly. He stood there, amazed, as he was buffeted by winds from every direction, and felt the moisture from his coat and hair being sucked away without his hooves being lifted from terra firma in the process.

When Rainbow Dash finished, he looked himself over and observed that there was no evidence that he had just left the lake. However, the hair of his mane and tail were a complete and utter mess. He could only imagine how Rarity might react upon seeing a copy of herself in such a state. While it didn't bother him too much, he didn't much like the idea of how others might react to it. Fortunately, Rainbow Dash only snickered when she saw the state that his hair was in, either because she knew when to draw a line, or due to having a desire to move forward with something that she considered to be more interesting and/or important.

"Okay," Rainbow Dash began, as she assumed a semblance of the demeanor that was stereotypically associated with drill instructors, "while I liked the energy, you really need to work on your control. So, here's what you need to do..."

Rainbow Dash proceeded to instruct Marshall on how to use his wings properly, regarding their intended purpose, which included a couple of performance tips. It was both informative and interesting, for the most part: mostly because he hadn't known much about wings to begin with; that, and he was pretty sure that some of the things that his new wings were capable of wouldn't be possible back in his own universe. However, there had been a few instances where Rainbow Dash had said something that had reminded him of a certain scene from Better Off Dead, when Charles had told Lane, "I'll tell you what to do. Go that way... really fast. If something gets in your way... Turn."

Once they were both sure that he knew enough about the hows and whys of flight, which involved a healthy dose of passive magic, he was encouraged to put his new knowledge to use. While he didn't repeat the mistake of using too much power, his second attempt at flight saw him tumble uncontrollably into the canopy of a tree, where he awkwardly waved to an old-looking pony who had noticed him from the second-story window of a nearby house. Fortunately, with each successive attempt, his control got better, and by the dozenth — or so — time he was proudly maintaining his position just a few feet off of the ground.

Rainbow Dash, who was in the process of flying a complete circuit around him, in order to judge his competence from multiple angles, eventually came to a stop in front of him, looking mildly impressed. "Huh. Twilight said you'd probably be a quick learner," left unsaid was the fact that the possibility of having some fun, instead of doing nothing but training, had been the main selling point when Twilight had requested both the training and the tour, "but I'd say you're a natural, all things considered."

Marshall shook his head. "If I am, then it's only because Rarity is."

"...Huh?" Rainbow Dash voiced her confusion.

That reaction had been unexpected to Marshall, who took a few seconds to respond because he had to wonder why she wasn't in the know. "You haven't heard about the sympathetic resonance thing that's going on between myself and Rarity?"

Rainbow Dash's brow furrowed. "The symphony what, now?"

Since she appeared to be clueless about the matter, Marshall took a moment to think of an example that Rainbow Dash could relate to, so he could build his explanation on it. "Remember what happened when we were playing 'pin the tail on the pony' yesterday?" When Rainbow Dash confirmed that she did, he continued. "Well, I have some kind of magical connection with Rarity, because this body is a perfect duplicate of hers. Among other things, it allows me to learn certain skills faster than normal, so long as it's a skill that Rarity has."

"Really?" Came Rainbow Dash's rhetorical response, as she bemusedly looked askance while stroking her chin. "I guess that would mean that she's a natural flyer..." Apparently, whatever thoughts she may have been having hadn't led her anywhere, because it wasn't long before she perked up and returned her focus to Marshall, with another subject on her mind. "Anyway! How's about a game of tag?"

Being as unexpected as that suggestion was, since Marshall had only been looking forward to a tour of Ponyville and stopping by Sugarcube Corner after learning how to fly, he asked, "Tag? Why?"

Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs and cocked an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Marshall opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when he couldn't think of a good enough reason not to, in part because he figured that he had plenty of time to take that tour and see Pinkie Pie before he had to be at the school.

Whirling around, so that she was facing away from him, Rainbow Dash looked over her shoulder and smirked. "Come on! Let's see whatcha got!"

With her looking ready to go at a moment's notice, the substance of the idea finally wormed its way into Marshall's conscious awareness, and his heart rate began to increase alongside his excitement. He couldn't remember the last time that he had received such an invitation, let alone for something as awesome as this, even though playing tag in the air was probably considered to be a rather ordinary activity for pegasi. For him, though, it was a realization of a dream: not of flight, specifically, but of experiencing something wonderful that had once seemed impossible. It was the kind of thing that one would have to be lucky to experience for an instant within a dream, and as an unsatisfactory version of it no less.

He couldn't help himself: before he knew it, and without any attention given to his wings, he was chasing after Rainbow Dash. He wasn't sure how long he had been chasing after her before becoming more aware of what he was doing, but he eventually became more cognizant of the world around him, and how it felt both bigger and smaller now that he was no longer earthbound. He couldn't tell how fast he was going, partially due to the fact that he didn't want to lose sight of Rainbow Dash, but he didn't care: the drifting environment in the distance, the blur of his immediate surroundings, the wind in his face, and the pumping of his wings and heart made him feel more alive than ever before. As he followed Rainbow Dash around the clock tower, performing several revolutions from bottom to top before moving on, he idly concluded that his first time on a roller coaster paled in comparison.

On occasion, Rainbow Dash would playfully tease and challenge him, both with words and by slowing down enough to become tantalizingly close to being within tagging range, but he didn't mind, nor need any motivation. As she took the chase into a cluster of clouds, without any hope of ever catching her, his inner child, which had taken hold over him, found enjoyment in the journey itself, rather than the abstract concept of victory. It was fun to simply fly among the clouds, darting around, over and under them, trying to keep Rainbow Dash within sight — which wasn't hard, since she had a rather loud and distinctive appearance.

Before long, Rainbow Dash put in an extra burst of speed and disappeared from sight, behind the cloud that he had just begun to chase her around. A split second later, the cloud was pushed right into his flight path, and he plowed into it headfirst. However, instead of passing through the cloud unimpeded, as he had expected, he felt his head force its way into it, as if it were made of some kind of semi-solid material, and got lodged there. It was more than surprising and perplexing enough for him to forget about flying, in part because it had arrested his forward motion as well, and he would have ended up hanging from the cloud by his head if he hadn't braced his hooves against it out of reflex, which he didn't notice right away.

His surprise and confusion were interrupted when he heard Rainbow Dash's chuckling coming from somewhere above him, so he collected his bearings and focused on resolving his current predicament. Realizing that his wings weren't doing their job, he got them moving again and began to push against the cloud while he tried to pull his head out of it. A few seconds later he succeeded in pulling his head free, at which point he began to prod and rub the cloud, as he tried to mentally grasp yet another new, strange and interesting aspect of the world that he had come to.

Amused by that behavior, Rainbow Dash inquired, "Having fun with that?"

Marshall looked up and saw Rainbow Dash lying on top of the cloud, just out of reach, but what really caught his attention was that her wings were resting at her sides instead of working to keep her airborne. Despite realizing the nature of her question, he couldn't help indulging how he felt about what he had found instead of being embarrassed by it. So, he rushed over to a neighboring cloud and slowly alighted upon it, half-expecting it to not hold his weight. When it did, his inner child rose up once again, inspiring him to hop up and down in place a few times. Then, he pulled his wings in, which he had left extended as a precaution, and laid down, which led to the discovery that clouds were as comfy as they looked.

His excitement wouldn't allow him to sit still for too long, so he hopped back onto his hooves a few seconds later, which was about the time that Rainbow Dash had flown over to his cloud, whose amusement had been tempered out of consideration for the moment that he seemed to be having. With what little tact she had, she observed, "You look pretty happy."

When Marshall regarded her, he couldn't help smiling. "I'd have to be crazy not to. All of this is just so, so... awesome!"

With a grin, Rainbow Dash rhetorically asked, "Then what are you standing around for," before performing a loop and flying through the underside of the cloud in the process, dispersing it.

Marshall yelped in surprise when gravity suddenly came back into play, but he quickly engaged his wings and gave chase, mirroring Rainbow Dash's grin when he decided to be more ambitious and really try to catch her.

They remained among the clouds for a bit longer, darting this way and that, only now the clouds became more relevant to their game, as Rainbow Dash pushed, spun and reshaped them for various purposes, since simply using her speed to stay out of reach could only keep her entertained for so long. She also used the clouds as a means of changing her direction, which Marshall copied with moderate success, once he had gotten enough practice in — his initial attempts had been hilarious failures, to say the least.

Eventually, Rainbow Dash left the clouds behind and headed back toward Twilight Sparkle's castle. Marshall followed her to the highest structure of the castle, which resembled Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark, and proceeded to chase her around the building, only absently noticing that they were progressively reaching the lower portions of it in the process. Once they had reached the rhombus crystal-bearing lines that hung from some of the lower sections of the castle, which Marshall had some trouble weaving around as he tried to keep up with Rainbow Dash, said pony decided to head toward the lake.

As Marshall followed Rainbow Dash to the waterfall, which appeared to be the actual destination for the next leg of their game, he enjoyed the light spray of water that was being kicked up by Rainbow Dash's passing, who had chosen to fly close to the lake's surface. It was while he was basking in the cool spray that he got an idea, which he decided to implement immediately since they were close to the waterfall and his idea wouldn't be employable once they left their current proximity to the lake.

So, before turning around and flying away as fast as he could manage, he stopped, raised his hooves to either side of his mouth, and yelled, "This isn't fun anymore! I'm leaving!"

"Huh!?" He could hear Rainbow Dash's bewildered response.

He knew that Rainbow Dash wouldn't have any trouble catching up with him, and that things could get complicated and/or awkward if she forced him into a conversation, so he was prepared to execute his plan as soon as possible, knowing that he would only get one shot at it. Hearing her call after him, he spared a look over his shoulder and saw that she had already closed most of the distance between them, and that the expression on her face was a mixture of confusion and determination, with — perhaps — a tinge of worry. Since she was already maneuvering to fly parallel with him, he quickly lined up with her and lowered his hind legs into the water, which caused a decent-sized stream to shoot upward, in front of his approaching target.

As he had hoped, Rainbow Dash's first reaction had been to protect her face, which obscured him from her. Hoping to take advantage of that, and accomplish what he had set out to do, he turned about and prepared to tag her as he proclaimed, "Gotch—oof!"

Unfortunately, as with many plans, not everything had been accounted for: he had acted before getting a clear idea of how fast Rainbow Dash had been going, and it hadn't helped that he had decelerated from dragging his legs in the water and turning around. As a result, Rainbow Dash had crashed into him, sending them both skipping and tumbling over the surface of the lake for a bit before coming to a stop with a big splash.

A few seconds later, Rainbow Dash's head emerged from the water with a gasp. Shortly thereafter, Marshall, who had none of the experience that Rainbow Dash had when it came to such high-speed incidents, came up hacking and coughing, struggling to keep his head above the water as he did so.

Rainbow Dash allowed Marshall enough time to recover before frowning at him and stating, "That... was dirty."

Marshall was still riding on the high from his flying experience, along with the adrenaline rush that had been induced by the accident, so he brazenly — yet playfully — responded with, "This?" He struck the water in front of himself, which splashed water toward Rainbow Dash, who'd had enough time to turn her head away and avoid a direct hit. "Looks like you're washed up, to me."

With an evil smile and a dangerous glint in her eye, which caused Marshall to gulp involuntarily, Rainbow Dash said, "Oh, yeah? I'll show you who's washed up!"

The splash fight that followed was a one-sided massacre. Marshall was overwhelmed by Rainbow Dash's prowess in the water, which was mostly due to the utilization of her wings. While he tried to do the same and give as good as he got, he just didn't have the experience or skill, and it wasn't made any easier by the fact that he had to deal with being splashed so often and thoroughly on top of that. Before long he was calling out his surrender and trying to swim away from the other pony's merciless assault.

Much to his relief, Rainbow Dash eventually heeded his calls and stopped harassing him while they swam to the bank. While she walked out of the lake only slightly winded, and gave her body a vigorous shake to expel the water from her body, he collapsed onto the ground after a few steps, trying to catch his breath. His attempt at doing so was interrupted briefly, however, when their eyes met and they shared a good-natured chuckle together.

"That was pretty fun," Rainbow Dash commented, for lack of anything better to do while she waited for Marshall to recover.

Marshall closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "It's been a long time since I've been able to let go and have fun like that."

"Yeah?" Rainbow Dash replied, her curiosity piqued. "How come?"

"Life, mostly," was Marshall's vague and somewhat evasive response. He didn't want to bother someone that he hardly knew with his problems, or ruin the mood, so he opened his eyes and glanced up at Rainbow Dash as he asked, "So, what about that tour?"

Rainbow Dash perked up when the new subject was suddenly introduced, seemingly unconcerned that the subject had been changed, which probably had something to do with the fact that the thought of acting as a tour guide seemed to be making her excited... for some reason. Marshall wasn't sure what to make of it, but hoped that whatever Rainbow Dash had planned was more along the lines of their game of tag, in terms of them both enjoying it, rather than just her.

"Are you up for it?" Rainbow Dash asked, with a look in her eyes that clearly conveyed that she hoped for that to be the case.

His legs were a little shaky when he stood up, but Marshall felt that he had recovered sufficiently enough from his recent exertions and could handle the after-effects of his adrenaline rush. So, he regarded Rainbow Dash and nodded his head with a measure of confidence as he said, "Lead the way."

Rainbow Dash was happy to oblige, and before long he was following her into the sky, but not before he had done his best to shake the water from his body, much like she had done. Although he had seen much of Ponyville already, it was nice to learn the names of places and what each of their functions were. Admittedly, Rainbow Dash didn't go into many details or tarry at any one place for long, but it wasn't like he did much in the way to elicit more information out of her either. Overall, though, he did enjoy it: he got to see more of the river valley where Ponyville made its home, which included a visit to the dam that functioned as the town's main source of power, as well as a glimpse of the Everfree Forest. Beyond that, Equestria's capital had also been pointed out to him, which could barely be seen in the distance.

The dam had been rather interesting, since he had been wondering how things were powered in a world that had magic and no obvious use — as far as he had seen so far — of electricity. It had actually been rather surprising to learn that the electricity being generated was distributed with magic, as opposed to using power lines. While he would have liked to learn more about that, Rainbow Dash hadn't volunteered anything beyond the questions that he had asked, and he had been too dumbstruck to ask any more questions about it in the short time that it had taken the pegasus to move on. In the end, he figured that he could ask Rarity or Twilight Sparkle about it later, who were probably more informed on the subject anyway, if his impressions of Rainbow Dash — so far — were correct.

Rainbow Dash had more to say about the Everfree Forest, in part because it seemed to be of greater interest to her, perhaps due to past experience. In addition to that, though, she had appeared to be weirded out by the fact that the weather, fauna and flora sorted themselves out on their own, which he had found amusing... until, a second later, he had learned that ponies typically took care of those things. Controlling the flora and fauna was not a new concept to him, to some degree, because humanity certainly did that to one extent or another. Controlling the weather, on the other hand, was largely in the realm of science-fiction, at least from his own universe: for the ponies, it was simply a fact of life that was made possible with magic. When asked, Rainbow Dash had readily provided some examples of how the weather could be controlled, such as making clouds rain or produce lightning, which still managed to amaze him despite the amount of amazing things that he had been exposed to already.

Then there had been "Canterlot," which could have been an allusion to the mythical Camelot. It hadn't been a difficult connection to make, since the castle looked like something out of a fairy tale. At the same time, that had been the moment where he had taken a closer look at the pony's naming conventions, since both Ponyville and Canterlot had something about their species in the name. It had made him wonder if other places were named in the same way, and made a note to look at a map of Equestria when the chance presented itself. He had also learned that Canterlot was where the princesses, Celestia and Luna, ruled Equestria. Although he'd had some questions about the princesses and the government, he hadn't been sure if Rainbow Dash would have been the best pony to ask, partly because she had seemed distracted by something.

It seemed that he was going to find out what had Rainbow Dash so distracted, though, because she could barely contain herself as she said, "Okay, I saved the best for last."

Marshall hadn't known what to expect when Rainbow Dash had pointed at one of the snow-capped mountaintops that had been outside of his periphery, which he realized — now that he was looking at it — was a place that the tour had never directed his eyesight toward, but a cylindrical tower on a cloud base, floating above the aforementioned mountaintop, had not been it. The tower was several stories tall, with a domed roof, and was of a style that suggested Greco-Roman to his untrained eyes. For the most part, the tower was white and a very pale cyan that bordered on being white, and that was accented by some of the surrounding clouds, which were various shades of purple. What really caught his eye, though, were what appeared to be rainbows in liquid form, running off of the clouds, and the rainbow that was projecting from the dome, if not over it, whose shape suggested that it was also of a liquid form, rather than coming into being via a combination of water droplets, sunlight, and his position relative to theirs.

Simply put: the sight was amazing. The rest of Ponyville had been relatable and mundane, aside from Twilight Sparkle's castle, but even a giant tree "house," on a tree that appeared to be made of crystal, was within the realm of possibility where he had come from. There was simply no way that the clouds on his world could support the mass of a pony, let alone a building. All things considered, it probably wasn't anything special to the ponies, but the idea of living in a house that was located on a cloud was just so cool to him.

Rainbow Dash must have gotten a good read of his thoughts through the expression on his face, because she looked rather pleased with herself as she said, "I know, right? I figured humans don't live on clouds where you come from, so I thought I'd show you my house."

"This is where you live?" Marshall couldn't help asking, even though he already had the answer to that question.

Idly, he supposed that he also knew the reason for why Rainbow Dash had been so enthusiastic about taking him on a tour, since she seemed to be a mite egotistical. Well, so long as she was friendly and meant well, he didn't really mind. In fact, her straightforward, exuberant and fun-seeking behavior was a real breath of fresh air, in a way that wasn't like the whole magical cartoon pony universe thing, so he really appreciated the opportunity that he had been given to spend time with her.

"Yup!" Rainbow Dash proudly confirmed, before looking away, rubbing the back of her neck and continuing in a slightly reserved manner. "And, uh... Now that you've told me about that game, I was kinda hoping that you could, y'know, write it down." She suddenly pointed both of her forehooves at Marshall, as if to stop him from something that he had been on the verge of doing, but hadn't, and hastily explained, "Not for me, of course! It's just so I won't have to repeat myself when I share it with others. It'll be really convenient!"

Rainbow Dash's smile looked notably disingenuous, which Marshall yet again attributed to the cartoon physics making such expressions easy enough for him to read. Still, since he didn't see any harm in humoring her, because he wouldn't be surprised if he had already forgotten one or two of the more finer details of Quidditch himself, he released a brief snort of amusement and said, "I suppose I could. We should probably go over the details anyway, to see if any changes need to be made."

"Why would we need to make changes?" Rainbow Dash queried.

"Well," Marshall temporized, before being inspired by a nearby cloud and pointing at it, "for example, we could consider adding those to the game, since the players are pegasi instead of humans using brooms."

Rainbow Dash's eyes lit up with understanding and an injection of enthusiasm. "Hey, yeah! We should definitely add clouds."

Now with something more to look forward to, she made a beeline to her house, but not before pausing long enough to properly invite Marshall into her home, which she had almost forgotten in her excitement. He followed her at a more leisurely pace, which allowed him to notice the image above her front door as he drew near: it was Rainbow Dash's cutie mark, except it had been rotated ninety degrees clockwise, and the end of the lightning bolt kind of dipped and curled onto itself, as if it had melted and reshaped itself on a whim.

Once he was beyond the double doors, which he had closed behind himself because he hadn't been raised in a barn, he landed and took in the sights. His first impression was of Rainbow Dash being wealthy, at least by the standards that he was accustomed to. It was hard to say whether or not those standards were applicable, though, in part because he wouldn't have expected Rainbow Dash to have a wealthy background, based solely on what little he knew about her. For all that he knew, she had earned her current living arrangements herself, which would be pretty impressive if she was as young as she seemed to be. Not that he had any real idea of how to judge a cartoon pony's age...

At any rate, the entrance hall was fairly spacious and rather spartan. Directly across from the front door was a stairway that led up to a balcony, which probably allowed access to other parts of the house, and also provided lighting for the "ground" floor from its underside. Right next to the front door was a pedestal, where a statue of a flying pegasus was on display. Aside from a few vases, there were a couple of shields that were widely separated on the wall, which may or may not have been family crests.

To the right was an entryway to another room, although he couldn't tell if it was meant to be of the living or waiting variety. In there, he could see a couple of chairs that were made out of clouds, unless they were only made to look that way. Several glass top tables were arranged within the room as well, and while most of them seemed to have metal bases, at least one glass top — for whatever reason — was being raised by what appeared to be a clump of cloud. Aside from a small lamp and flower vase, the only other notable feature of the room was the window: it was larger than the ones in the entrance hall, and was accompanied by purple curtains that had yellow lightning bolts printed on them, which were drawn open at the moment.

As he began to poke the stone floor beneath him, wondering if it was the cloud that was supporting it, or some other magical application, Rainbow Dash reappeared with a clipboard and a pencil. After he accepted them, his host asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," Marshall replied, who realized that he was feeling a bit parched. "Water will be fine."

Rainbow Dash nodded her head in acknowledgement and swept a forehoof toward the living/waiting room as she said, "Go ahead and make yourself at home; I'll be back in just a sec."

After she left, Marshall entered the indicated room and hopped onto the loveseat. He hadn't chosen the armchair out of habit, since the recliner had been his father's designated seat for as long as he could remember, so he always assumed that there was a chair reserved for the master — or mistress — of the home. The loveseat was more comfortable than he had expected anyway, so it wasn't like he could complain even if he had wanted to.

He had just gotten his body settled on his chosen cushion, and began writing down the default rules of Quidditch, when Rainbow Dash returned, carrying two glasses. When she offered the only glass that contained a clear liquid, he accepted it with gratitude; she kept the one with the dark liquid, which he guessed was grape juice, based on the faint aroma that he had picked up. He didn't dwell on her beverage, though, since she had decided to join him on the loveseat, which — considering how they were alone in her house — made him feel a touch uncomfortable, since she was a member of the fairer sex regardless of her species.

Fortunately, Rainbow Dash was clearly focused on creating a Quidditch-based game, so he adjusted his attention accordingly and explained what he planned to do. First, he would write down a list of the original rules. Once those were on paper, they would start a new list on a separate sheet of paper and work out which rules from the original would survive or be changed, and what kind of rules would be added to them. Rainbow Dash didn't have any problems with doing it that way, so he got to work.

He was halfway through with writing down the original rules when an unexpected sound reached his ears. When he looked up to find the source, which was growing louder by the second, he noticed that his host was hearing it as well. Before he could ask her about it, to see if it was normal or not, he saw — of all things — a tortoise flying into the room via a propeller-driven cap that was strapped to its body. He wasn't sure how that worked, although the yellow glow surrounding the spindly shaft probably had something to do with it.

The tortoise made to approach Rainbow Dash, but she caught it and behaved kind of awkwardly as she spared Marshall a glance and said, "Sorry, Tank. Maybe later."

If not for that glance, Marshall wouldn't have picked up that Tank had been denied whatever he had wanted because of his presence. It took him a few seconds to figure out what was going on, as he regarded Tank's look of disappointment and how Rainbow Dash kept the aforementioned tortoise well away from herself, but he supposed that it made enough sense. At least, he wouldn't be surprised if Rainbow Dash had a certain image that she wanted to uphold, considering the kind of personality that she seemed to have.

Apparently, he had been staring at the pair for too long, because Rainbow Dash responded to his attention with an odd mixture of nervousness and defensiveness as she challengingly said, "What?"

Marshall considered them for a second longer before he decided to envelop Tank in his magic and move him closer to Rainbow Dash's face, where he took advantage of the opportunity to nuzzle her face, much to her surprise and embarrassment. With that accomplished, he simply returned his attention to writing down the rules for Quidditch, since what he had done had said enough by itself, and probably better than what he could have come up with verbally. And that wasn't even including whether or not he should have said anything, since it probably would have been a bit hypocritical of him to do so. Not in the sense of openly showing affection to a pet, though: he had an abundance of memories where he had allowed a certain Pekingese to lick his face with abandon while among both family and friends, for example.

With his eyes focused on what he was writing, he didn't see Rainbow Dash open her mouth to speak, then close it a few seconds later without saying anything. Her brow furrowed in thought, but it wasn't long before her expression softened, when her attention was drawn back to Tank. Eventually, she succumbed to her desires and removed the flying apparatus from him, so she could hold him close while she worked with Marshall to create an Equestrian version of Quidditch.
> Chapter 11: Food for Thought
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When all was said and done, Quidditch hadn't suffered much in the way of alterations: they added several allowable roles for clouds, catching the Snitch now gave fifty points, and the object in question wasn't introduced into play until the game had been in session for a certain amount of time. The only things that remained to be settled were some of the names and terms that had yet to be changed into something that would be more relatable to the ponies of Equestria, in part because neither Rainbow Dash nor Marshall were particularly talented at coming up with decent alternatives.

Since Rainbow Dash was eager to play the game as soon as possible, she had eventually asked Marshall if he would be able to find Sugarcube Corner and the school on his own, so she could go to Twilight Sparkle and sort out the remaining details of the game, as well as seeing about enchanting a Snitch and two Bludgers. Marshall had been reasonably sure that he could find his way to either location, so he didn't have any trouble with yielding to what Rainbow Dash was most interested in doing at that moment, who had rushed out of her home as soon he had finished giving his response to her request.

After Marshall left the suddenly-empty house, which had felt a bit awkward to remain within alone, he decided to take a brief moment to see where he would be going while he had a good vantage point to do so, since he wouldn't be flying for much longer and thus couldn't rely on it when he had to go back to his usual method of travel. Once he was confident that he wouldn't get lost while walking to any of the locations that he would be going to that day, he focused his attention on Sugarcube Corner and took flight.

While he was tempted to fly around just for the fun of it, he was able to rein in that desire and headed directly toward his destination. It hadn't been easy to do, though, despite having had so much practice with being composed and mature as an adult. He wondered if he should be worried about that: because, when he had decided to open himself up and not appear to be too out of place, he hadn't imagined himself behaving as he did when he had been flying with Rainbow Dash. In retrospect, while he didn't regret the experience, it was kind of embarrassing.

Still, it was nice to know that he could get along with Rainbow Dash, despite their obvious differences in personality. It was still largely up in the air as to how their future interactions would be, but what he had to go on so far was enough to make him optimistic toward his imminent meeting with Pinkie Pie, even though he had never met someone quite like her before. She seemed to be good-natured, though, so he hoped that things would work out.

There didn't seem to be anyone about to enter Sugarcube Corner, who could get in the way, so he decided to land right in front of its doorstep. Before heading in, he took a quick look about himself and noticed that he had attracted some attention, so he added a bit of haste to his step and entered the establishment. Unlike his last visit, the lights were on upon his arrival, and there were only a couple of ponies within, either sitting at a table or standing at the service desk.

He had barely finished crossing the threshold when Pinkie Pie had leaned into view, around the stallion that she had been attending from behind the service desk, and smiled brightly upon seeing him. "Rushershy!" She waved him over. "Come on down!"

Confused by the name that he had been addressed by, Marshall nonetheless did as directed, all while ignoring the attention that Pinkie Pie had drawn to him. By the time that he had reached the service desk, the stallion had turned about and began to walk away from it, a paper bag held in his mouth. Since he didn't know where Pinkie Pie wanted him to be, exactly, he played it safe and stopped in front of her, with the service desk between them.

Marshall tried to ask about the name, but Pinkie Pie extended a forehoof toward him in a "cease and desist" manner and said, "Hold that thought," before reaching over the service desk and grabbing him by the shoulders, then pulling him to the other side of it and setting him down beside her. It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that he had almost lost his balance when his hooves had been reintroduced to the floor, but he had managed to avoid falling over even as he tried to reconcile how far Pinkie Pie had just stretched her body, in order to accomplish what she had just done.

"There!" Pinkie Pie happily declared. "Now we can talk!"

Once he had recovered enough of his bearings, Marshall pushed what had just happened aside and asked, "So, uh, why did you call me 'Rushershy?'"

Pinkie Pie tilted her head in confusion. "Isn't that your new name?"

"It's 'Recherché,'" Marshall corrected her, without complaint.

With her eyes wide with realization, Pinkie Pie said, "Oh, is that what Twilight had said?" She cuffed the side of her head. "Silly me! I might have been just a little distracted at the time, and it just seemed to make sense." Seeing Marshall's questioning look, she added, "I mean, because you seemed a bit shy and left the party so soon — which I totally understand, of course." She perked up, as if she had just remembered something. "Oh! And it didn't hurt that you did that for Rarity's sake, had a similar hairstyle to Fluttershy's, and just a bit ago I saw you flying past the window at a breakneck speed."

Marshall stared silently at Pinkie Pie's smiling visage while he digested her explanation, absently wondering where that "squee" sound had come from. It did make a sort of sense, when viewed in the manner described, since "Rushershy" sounded similar enough to "Recherché." While it was oddly coincidental that a misheard name could relate to his appearance and some of his actions, even if he didn't really think that he was being particularly kind, what had really caught his attention was when Pinkie Pie had very briefly expressed a measure of dispiritedness during the "left the party so soon" part of the explanation, despite the assurance that had followed it.

Before he could figure out how to respond, Pinkie Pie already seemed to be moving on, because she hummed thoughtfully as she considered him with a pensive expression on her face. "Say," she began, as she leaned forward and invaded his personal space with a sidelong glance, which caused him to pull his head back and fold his ears down, "you're not trying to get on my good side with flattery, are you?"

Marshall's confusion allowed Pinkie Pie's momentum to move things along without interruption. Before he knew it, she was standing at his side, on her hind legs, while she rummaged through the rat nest that had become his mane. It was with a mild sense of accomplishment that he had only flinched at the initial contact, although he still felt uncomfortable having someone do something to him that was akin to a lice inspection.

Unable to follow what was going on, he calmly asked, "Um, what are—"

"That's it?" Pinkie Pie asked no one in particular, who tsked several times at the twig and leaves that she held up in a hoof. "Let's see what you're packing back here..."

This time Marshall had an idea of what was about to happen, but he stiffened and let out a rather embarrassing, "Eep," upon opening up his mouth to speak, because Pinkie Pie had placed one of her forehooves on his rump, near the tail, to brace herself while she searched through his tail with her other forehoof. He really didn't care for that kind of attention in that particular area, so he finally got the nerve to hop away and express his irritation. "Do you mind?"

"Yes!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed, much to Marshall's surprise, as she held up a little, rubber boot, whose sole was peeling away from one of its ends. "Boots should be stored near the head, not in the tail," she declared, before closing the distance between them and shoving the aforementioned object into his mane. "There! Now, if you really want to emulate me—"

She was interrupted by a stallion clearing his throat, who was standing on the other side of the service desk. He had a dark grey coat, short, brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a cutie mark of a white and red can. With a voice that matched the weary expression on his face, he asked, "Where's that chocolate cake?"

Much to Marshall's relief, Pinkie Pie zipped over to attend the latest customer. From seemingly out of nowhere, as far as he could tell, she pulled out a box from behind the service desk and placed it upon the desktop with a winning smile. "Do you mean this chocolate cake?"

The stallion lifted the lid of the box and glanced at the contents within, which inspired a small smile to form on his lips. After closing the box, he paid for it, placed his purchase on his back, then politely said, "Thank you," before taking his leave.

Pinkie Pie waved at his departing form. "Have a wonderific day, mister Soup!"

Thanks to that little diversion, Marshall had been able to reach the same page that Pinkie Pie had been on, which had made it possible to figure out the reason for her actions. So, instead of giving her a chance to continue from where she had left off, when she turned her attention back to him, he preemptively said, "Um, look, my hair is like this because of something that Rainbow Dash had done."

Pinkie Pie blinked her eyes a few times as she digested that information, then narrowed them and asked, "Did she do it as a prank?"

Marshall looked askance and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "...I don't think so?"

After holding her expression for a second longer than necessary, Pinkie Pie was all smiles again and abruptly changed the subject with barely-contained excitement. "So, what can you tell me about the goodies that humans eat? Are they anything like ours? Are they yummilicious? How much do humans consume? Will ponies mutate if they consume them, and gain superequine powers?"

That last question was a bit unexpected, but Marshall had already been fairly distracted by the sheer amount of anticipation that Pinkie Pie appeared to be radiating. It seemed like, at any moment, she might actually transform into a firework and blast off. She remained grounded, thankfully; a little too grounded, since she was leaning the front of her body downward, so she could look up at him expectantly, as a playful dog might.

"Well," Marshall temporized, as he tried to work out where to begin, "I can't say that I saw anything at the party that I hadn't recognized, or didn't seem like something that we — humans, I mean — couldn't have made. It's hard to say anything more than that because I don't have much of an idea of everything that ponies make, and humans make so many things that it's probably impossible for me to list more than a small fraction of them."

Rather than be discouraged by that, Pinkie Pie began to bounce on her hooves, alternating from one side to the other. "Really? Humans make a lot? Can you give me an idea of how much?"

Marshall delved into the recesses of his mind, to try and find something that would appease the easily-excitable pony before him, with the hope of avoiding any more situations that were of an undesirable nature. Unfortunately, the subject matter wasn't the sort that he had ever been interested enough in to study to any extent worth noting, so he only had a vague idea of the quantities involved. Eventually, though, he was able to dredge up a piece of trivia about one of his world's most popular foods.

Hoping that it would be enough, he said, "Okay, I don't think I can help you beyond this one thing, but — maybe — it will be enough to give you a good idea about the rest: when it comes to chocolate alone, humans produce several billion pounds of it every year."

Pinkie Pie screeched to a halt in response, becoming completely immobile, which preoccupied Marshall's mind with enough worry to not notice how she was balancing on her left legs instead of tipping over onto her other side. Then, suddenly, she whirled around to face you, threw her forelegs into the air as she rose upon her hind legs, and shrieked, "You produce several billion pounds of chocolate in a year!?"

Marshall spared a glance toward the direction that she was looking at before regarding her warily. "Um... Who are you talking to?"

Rather than answer his question, Pinkie Pie appeared before him in the blink of an eye and began to shake him by the shoulders as she yelled, "Do you have any idea of what you could do with that much chocolate!?"

She had shaken him hard enough to make him collapse when said shaking unexpectedly ceased, as a result of his voice only capturing her attention briefly. She proceeded to turn away and look into space, imagining the possibilities as she began to relate them aloud. "You could fill a vault that's the size of a skycraper and swim in it. Wait! The chocolate could be melted down and poured into swimming pools for a totally-delicious pool party of epic proportions!" She gasps as a particularly attractive idea occurred to her. "Or, the chocolate can be stacked so high that they reach the moon, and we can finally answer the age-old question: is the moon a powdered doughnut hole? Oh! Maybe..."

When Marshall finally recovered enough to get back on his hooves, he shook his head to dispel the last of his disorientation. Upon seeing that Pinkie Pie was in her own, little world, he sat down on his haunches and began to wonder what to do. While Pinkie Pie kind of reminded him of himself back in junior high, aside from being on a completely different level, it wasn't something that his current self knew how to deal with. It was kind of sad, really: in addition to making him feel much older than he was, it also highlighted how much he had changed since he had left his school days behind, which made him look like a fuddy-duddy by comparison.

Not for the first time did he note just how accustomed he had gotten to what his lot in life had been for the past several years. He'd once heard that people could adapt to pretty much anything, but he hadn't expected or intended to do that in certain, specific ways when he had become an adult. However, somehow, at some point, "dealing with this situation for now" had transitioned to: "whatever; it is how it is." Now, there he was, watching this force of nature who had a penchant for spreading joy, and he was...

...Intimidated? That might be the word to describe what he was feeling. After all, despite being in the presence of a personality that he could appreciate intellectually, especially from the perspective of watching a cartoon character from a fictional television show, he didn't have much in the way of motivation to partake of it, or contribute. Which was a bit frustrating, since he remembered a time when he wouldn't have been reluctant to behave as Pinkie Pie did, even if not nearly to the same degree. He wanted to enjoy that kind of fun again, though, so he resolved to get back what years of monotony, uninspiring jobs and separation from his friends had taken away.

Pinkie Pie was brought back to reality when the next customer arrived, with the aid of the call bell. Once she had finished serving them, she finally noticed Marshall and tilted her head inquiringly. "Oh, are you tired already?"

Marshall shook his head, stood up and said, "Nah. I was just thinking."

"What about?" Pinkie Pie asked, seemingly out of simple curiosity.

"Nothing worth talking about," Marshall replied, who probably wouldn't have shared the thoughts in question with his parents, much less someone that he hardly knew. Hoping to change the subject, he asked, "So, was there anything else that you wanted to know?"

"Hmmmm," Pinkie Pie hummed thoughtfully, her eyes directed skyward and a hoof stroking her chin. After a moment, she perked up and enthusiastically said, "Oh! I know! What is your absolute, most favorite snack in the whole, wide world?"

Caught off guard, Marshall stared at her for a moment before preparing to answer her question. At first, he was reluctant to share what his favorite snack was, for a couple of reasons: like a fair number of men in the world, he couldn't help feeling embarrassed if the food seemed to be not-so-masculine in nature; and, due to his long-standing convictions toward watching his weight, it would be a guilty pleasure to consume it — assuming that it would be made available him, that is. However, since he didn't have to worry about his weight in his current body, and didn't expect to be judged in the way that he feared, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to give an honest answer.

Still, he couldn't help feeling a mite embarrassed despite his thoughts on the matter, so he looked aside and scratched the side of his face as he said, "I guess that would have to be cheesecake."

"Cheesecake, huh?" Pinkie Pie replied, who appeared to be slightly intrigued by his choice. "No problem! I'll pick up some ricotta after work and have the cheesecake ready before bedtime!"

Now that he was sure of her intentions, and didn't want her to go out of her way for him, it was with some reluctance that he said, "You don't have to do that for me."

Pinkie Pie looked quite happy to hear that, which confused Marshall until she said, "Well, that's a relief: because I want to do it."

Marshall couldn't help smiling wryly at that, and decided that he might as well get what he wanted if she was going to insist on giving him something. "Okay, then can you make the cheesecake with cream cheese instead of ricotta?"

"Cream cheese?" Pinkie Pie inquired, her interest piqued. "Like, turning cheese into a cream?"

Marshall shook his head. "I'm not sure how it's made."

"Awwww..." Pinkie Pie complained, with an upward inflection toward the end, while her hair deflated slightly. "But I wanted you to enjoy your favorite snack."

After being distracted by Pinkie Pie's hair for a few seconds, Marshall tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. As overwhelming as Pinkie Pie could be at times, that really wasn't enough of a reason to spite her and allow things to stand as they were, especially since it was her own way of being nice. That wasn't to say that his motivation was entirely unselfish, though: it had been a while since the last time that he'd had any cheesecake, and the desire to have some had — by now — firmly taken root within his mind.

When a solution occurred to him, which had been easy to reach since his options were so limited, he said, "Hey, how about I, uh, 'zone out' for a minute and look up how to make it?"

Pinkie Pie perked up instantly, which affected the state of her hair in a similar manner. "That would be great! Can I zone out, too?"

Marshall chuckled at her eagerness to do such a thing as he laid down and got comfortable. "Sure; knock yourself out."

"Knocking yourself out isn't the same as zoning out, silly," Pinkie Pie replied, before happily bounding over to a spot beside him and lying down.

Slightly amused, Marshall shook his head lightly in response. Then, he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and focused on returning to his human body.





It had taken about fifteen minutes, but Marshall had found and memorized what he could about making cream cheese. When he had returned to Recherché's body, he had been met with a disappointed Pinkie Pie, who had either expected or hoped to share in the same experience. On top of that, she had also been disappointed by the fact that she wouldn't be able to make him cheesecake that day — a sentiment that he had shared, even if for a different reason. Thankfully, she had been cheered up when he had mentioned the spell that Twilight Sparkle would teach him later, which would — somehow — make it easier for him to convey information.

Following that, he had stuck around for a bit longer, to answer some more of Pinkie Pie's questions to the best of his ability. Most of her questions had been food-related, up until the point where he had mentioned malls: at which point he'd had to explain what they were, after having to tell her that the mall that he had been referring to wasn't like a promenade, nor a place where one became food and got mauled. After learning that some malls could be big enough to consist of hundreds of shops and restaurants of various kinds, and could include such things as amusement park rides, water parks, hotel accommodations, and other conveniences and attractions of that nature, it had become apparent that she wanted to go to one without needing to voice it — which she had, and with much conviction. He had a feeling that she held a misconception or two about malls, but he hadn't known how to address it, especially with how excited she had become at the very idea of their existence.

By the time that he had left Sugarcube Corner, about ten minutes before he needed to be at the school, his magically-fabricated wings had vanished: they had unraveled and floated away to nothing, in the form of ethereal wisps and motes of light. So, it was with a sigh that he began his trip to the school on foot, with the hope that it wouldn't be too long before he got another chance to fly.

The walk there turned out to be uneventful, for the most part. A few ponies — some of which he had recognized from yesterday's party — had tried to engage him in conversation, but he had politely declined, explained why, and promised to try and spare some time for them at some later date. Beyond that, he didn't seem to attract much in the way of attention, which came as a relief.

After following a fenced path for a bit, the school came into view and he got his first good look at it. It appeared to be a building with a single room and a bell tower, much like the human schools from a long time ago, which he had only ever seen pictures of. Its siding and roofing were red, primarily, with the latter a darker shade than the former, and the eaves were trimmed in white. While there were swirly patterns on the siding and eaves, the main motif appeared to be the heart, which could be found around the top of the window frames, on the eaves of the roof and portico, at the base of the bell tower, and replaced the fletching of what appeared to be a weather vane, located at the top of the aforementioned bell tower.

Before turning onto the path that led to the school's front door, he noted the sign on the left-hand side, which mainly displayed the image of an open book. Beyond it, he could see the school's playground, where he saw familiar equipment, like a sandbox and swing set. However, even more impressive than those was the play set that was further back, whose size rivaled that of the school. There were three main structures to the play set, with multiple levels, interconnecting bridges, a ramp, winding stairs, slides, stepping stumps, and other ways to interact with it. When he was able to tear his admiring gaze away from it, he noticed the flag poll on the right side of the path, which flew a red flag that tapered to a clefted point.

Once he had ascended the portico steps, he paused in front of the door and wondered whether he should knock or let himself in. After some consideration, he decided to be prudent and knocked. After all, he couldn't tell if there would be a foyer between himself and the classroom, and/or additional staff waiting to handle his appearance. Since he was supposed to be expected, he figured that either choice of action could be acceptable, but he preferred to err on the side of caution.

He began to hear muffled voices coming from the other side of the door, but distinctly heard, "Stay in your seats, please," among them, which he assumed to be the teacher's voice. When the door was opened, he was greeted by a mare with a mulberry-colored coat and light green eyes, whose hair was light pink with a wide, pale pink stripe in the middle. Behind her, he could see some of the desks near the front of the classroom, where several young ponies tried to get a good look at him. The single exception, that he could see, was a pony that he had already met before: Apple Bloom.

The teacher offered him a welcoming smile, although he could tell that she was probably just as interested in him as her students were, despite her calm demeanor. "You must be Marshall. Thank you for coming out here for the children."

"It's no problem," Marshall replied. He returned a weak smile, since he still had some misgivings about entertaining a group of young ponies. "Call me Recherché, though: I decided to use a more suitable name while I'm here."

The teacher nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Well, please, come in, and I'll introduce you to the class."

When she turned around to lead Marshall inside, he got a good look of her cutie mark, which consisted of three flowers that had a smiley face at the center of each one. As he followed her to the front of the classroom, he absently wondered if it had anything to do with her current line of work, and — if so — in what way, exactly. Along the way, he also took note of the classroom decor, even as he tried to ignore being the center of attention for two dozen eager children. Unlike the outside of the building, the inside was full of cooler and more subdued colors, such as beige, various shades of green, and teal. Aside from the furnishings being tailored for a pony's use, nothing looked out of place, beyond being behind the times compared to his own school experiences.

He soon found himself standing in front of the chalkboard, which was set in a rather fancy frame. After the teacher introduced him by his new name, she had to explain that he had changed it, since a fair number had learned about his human name from their parents. Then, once the teacher had dictated how her students should conduct themselves during the next hour, she went over to her desk and left the floor to him.

Despite his worries, the next hour went smoothly, for the most part; he even dared to think that it had been kind of pleasant. The only sour note had been Sweetie Belle, who had never tried to ask any questions and generally acted uninterested, even though plenty of his answers had caught her attention. Beyond that, the chalkboard had seen a lot of use, where he had done his best to illustrate a number of things that his audience — or any pony, possibly — had never seen before: such as the human body, airplanes, automobiles, cell phones, satellites, and rockets.

However, the most notable part of the experience, and — perhaps — the most shocking thing that he had learned about the pony's world so far, had come from the following question: who moved his world's sun and moon? That's when he had learned that Celestia and Luna controlled the movements of the sun and the moon, respectively. If not for the various things that he had experienced already, which he would have thought impossible a few days ago, he would have thought such a thing utterly preposterous. Despite that, he still found it hard to believe. However, by that point, he was willing to give such a feat the benefit of the doubt.

When the Q&A session had ended, and the children were free to go home, several of them had wanted more of his time, but he had to disappoint them: his main priority was with Rarity, and he was already feeling a tad guilty to have yet helped her with a full day's worth of work. Between that, and the teacher being curious enough about the human education system to want to arrange a time to discuss it with him, he had almost been too distracted to tell Sweetie Belle about her sister wanting to see her after school, before she could leave with her friends.

Rather than walk to her sister's home, perhaps because she didn't want to risk being joined by him, Sweetie Belle told Scootaloo and Apple Bloom that she would see them later before galloping off. Her friends stood by in an awkward, silent fashion as he walked by them, which he could only guess meant that Sweetie Belle had shared her thoughts about him at some point. Whatever those thoughts may have been, though, they hadn't made her friends hostile toward him.

Much like his trip to the school, the walk to his place of employment was uneventful, save for a single interruption by a curious pony. Since the front door of Rarity's home was also the main entrance of her business, and it was business hours, he forwent knocking on the door and opened it. What he saw in the room beyond, however, made him think that it might have been a better idea to have made his presence known first.

Close to the doorway stood Rarity and Sweetie Belle, with the latter being dwarfed by a collection of boxes, tote bags and various cases that had been placed nearby. Seeing some of the familiar materials of Rarity's trade sticking out of the tote bags, he had a good idea of what was going on, but — nonetheless — felt a little bad for intruding. Of course, it was too late to do anything about it, now that they had turned their attention away from each other and focused on him.

Because he thought that Rarity probably wouldn't be upset by his interruption, it came as a surprise when that reaction seemed to be the case, because she looked horror-stricken the moment that she set her eyes upon him. She pointed at him in a dramatic fashion and tried to speak, but it took a few false starts before she got anything intelligible out, starting with, "My—!" She quickly corrected herself and tried again. "I mean, your hair! What in Celestia's name happened to it!?"

With a mixture of sheepishness and self-consciousness, partly due to the state of his hair slipping his mind, he reached up and fidgeted with one of the tangled masses of his mane as he said, "Oh, uh... I kinda had a run-in with a rainbow tornado?"

Rarity appeared to calm down, although her smile and tone of voice told a different story, especially since it was easy enough for him to tell that she was failing to hide her true feelings on the matter. "How long, pray tell, has your hair been in such a... dreadful state?"

Marshall had yet to see this side of Rarity before, so his ears folded back as his nervousness caused him to hesitate with his response. "...Not long after I left Twilight's castle?"

Aside from an almost imperceptible tick of the brow, Rarity did not make a move or sound for an uncomfortable and nerve-wracking amount of time. He certainly didn't feel optimistic about what to expect from her when he noticed Sweetie Belle slowly backpedaling away from them. He began to wonder if he should follow the filly's example: while he had a decent idea regarding the cause of Rarity's reaction, and felt guilty for it, there were certain unpleasantries that he hoped to avoid.

Finally, after firmly widening her stance, and adopting a really serious and determined expression on her face, Rarity gruffly declared, "This... travesty... must... end!"

Immediately following that, Marshall reflexively heeded Rarity's "call" for magic, which resulted in him lifting himself into the air. As he was pulled along, toward the swinging door that was behind the platform and mirrors, he considered taking full control over his magic, but decided against it: while his mode of transportation was a bit embarrassing, and what awaited him probably more so, he honestly didn't want his hair to remain as it currently was. At least, he hoped that his hair was the only thing that Rarity intended to take care of.

Beyond the swinging door was a short hallway, and on the other end of it was a door. Once Rarity had brought him into the room that was on the other side of that door, what he saw made him think of a salon, especially due to the industrial-sized hair dryers that had easily caught his eye, as well as the amount of sinks. However, he supposed that it was more likely to be a dressing room, since it could be accessed right next to the place — in the shop's main room — where the customer could get a good look at themselves in a mirror, where adjustments could be made should they or Rarity see something that required it. Rarity had never mentioned that she was a beautician, so...

Rarity wasted no time as she placed him on a stool, in front of one of the vanity mirrors, then grabbed a brush and began to work on his tail from the bottom up. "Honestly, darling," she said, with a bit of a huff. "Though, I suppose I can understand your reluctance to tackle this mess, if Twilight's assessment of human male trends is anywhere near accurate."

Marshall winced as he experienced a sharp pain from a place he'd never had until yesterday. "Yeah, short hair is pretty common for guys..." To try and take his mind off of the pain, he added, "I've always worn my hair short, as far as I can recall. Usually, I don't even have to use a comb to make it look presentable."

"Well, I hope you're paying attention," Rarity replied, as she methodically worked on Marshall's tail at a steady pace. "Unless you'd like your hair shortened, you should learn how to take care of it. Speaking of which..." Marshall heard a sniffing sound, which prompted him to look in the mirror, where he saw Rarity making a face while leaning closer to him than necessary. "Yes... We'll definitely have to get you cleaned up before we go to have dinner with my family."

That last statement crowded out the thoughts that Marshall had begun to have about cutting his hair, since bathing was a much more serious matter. While he had taken a few baths already, technically speaking, and the feel of the water hadn't bothered him, actually focusing on his body and purposefully touching it was a lot more personal than he was comfortable with. While it would be strange as well, he was more worried about doing anything that could be considered a violation toward the pony whose body he was borrowing.

Whether by looking at his face in the mirror or noticing how rigidly he sat, Rarity was moved to pause with her brushing as she said, "I'm bothered a bit by this myself, I must admit." Then, she met his gaze in the mirror and smiled a bit wryly. "If your reaction to the idea of bathing in that body is anything to go by, though, I don't think I have anything to worry about."

Marshall returned her look with a half-lidded stare and pointed out, "You're not the one who has to deal with a strange body."

"True," Rarity acknowledged, as she continued the task of brushing out Marshall's tail, "but this is a strange situation. I've decided to view it like I would if I'd had a twin sister — perhaps you should, as well."

After regarding Rarity's reflection for a few seconds, with a questioning look on his face, Marshall bowed his head and mulled the idea over. Basically, she was suggesting that he take ownership over his borrowed form and treat it as he would his human body. Intellectually, he knew that there wasn't anything inherently wrong with being another species or sex, so it would just require some time to get used to the idea and adapt. However, time was a problem: because — of course — he would only be slipping out of his usual body and life for as long as Rarity would need him.

While he had more or less resolved himself to not worry about the attachments that he would make in this new world, it seemed a bit much to assume a role within a family and growing into it. In a way, despite not seeing it as such, it kind of felt like it would be a betrayal to his real family. He knew that people could form strong enough bonds with others and consider them a part of a family regardless of blood relation, and perhaps that's what the spirit of Rarity's words had meant, but he couldn't help seeing it as being more personal, given the overall context of the situation.

In the end, he decided that he had plenty of time to think about the matter: it was only his second day among the ponies of Equestria, after all. So, he opted to return his attention to the present and get back to it later, when he might be in a better frame of mind to figure out what he should do and feel about it all.

By then, Rarity had finished with his tail and had begun to sort out the hair on his neck. When she reached the base of his skull, though, she paused for a second, looking confused, before reaching into his hair and pulling something out. That something turned out to be the boot that Pinkie Pie had relocated to his mane for some strange reason.

Rarity looked at him questioningly, by way of the mirror, as she raised the boot into view. "How on earth did this get into your hair?"

Marshall shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. Pinkie Pie found it in my tail, then said something about it belonging in my mane before putting it there."

With a shake of her head, Rarity tossed the boot aside and returned to the task at hand. However, after a few more brush strokes she came upon another unnatural obstruction; this time, it came in the form of a canister of baking powder. After her raised eyebrow had been answered by a rhetorical, "Did she really put that in my hair," from Marshall, she put it aside and finished with the rest of his mane without a problem.

"There," she voiced, before she began to look at Marshall's hair with a critical eye. "Your hair has suffered some trauma, but we can address that later."

Marshall got off of the stool immediately, since he was raring to go and do something after that hair-pulling ordeal. "Great! I'm feeling kinda bad about helping you with work even later than before, so let's get started."

Rarity opened her mouth to reply, but she paused and her eyes went wide with realization. Embarrassment soon followed, and Marshall's questioning gaze prompted her to admit, "It would appear that my plan had completely slipped my mind."

"What plan?" Marshall asked, as he gave her a sidelong look.

After assuming a bearing that would make her look more dignified, Rarity waved his query aside with a hoof and unconcernedly said, "Oh, I was just going to have you help Sweetie Belle carry all of those supplies back home. You see, I had told her that it had more or less been your idea to give her the chance to learn some of the more simpler crafts, if she were truly interested. Then, it was just a matter of providing her with more supplies than she could handle on her own, so I could arrange a bit of alone time between the two of you, but I saw your hair, and, well..." Along with a helpless expression on her face, she proceeded to make a gesture with a hoof, one that further indicated that the rest of the story didn't need to be told.

Marshall shook his head and said, "Let's check and see what your sister's been up to, then."

When they returned to the main room, they found the supplies where they had last seen them, but no Sweetie Belle. At first, Rarity had feared that her "doting" of Marshall had accomplished the opposite of what she had hoped to gain with her plan, but a closer inspection of the supplies had revealed that some of them were missing, which meant that Sweetie Belle had opted to take the time to relocate everything herself instead of storming off. At least, they hoped that was all that there was to the situation.

Sweetie Belle returned a short time later, and the expression on her face appeared to be one of resignation. That is, until she noticed that she wasn't the only one in the room, at which point she hastily put on a smile — whose insincerity was painful to look at — and exclaimed, "Oh! Sis!" She quickly noticed Marshall nearby and awkwardly added, "Uh, Recherché..."

Rarity clucked her tongue, but didn't address her sister's poorly-hidden feelings. "Sweetie Belle, if you'd only been patient, Recherché could have saved you the extra trip."

Sweetie Belle couldn't meet her sister's gaze, and looked rather uncomfortable under the circumstances. "Oh. I didn't know..."

Her response was a bit exasperating to Rarity, but she maintained her composure and made a silent gesture to Marshall, rather than being confrontational. Marshall, being the non-confrontational type, didn't need to get any clues from their connection to figure out what Rarity would be expecting from him, so he picked up all of the supplies without comment before addressing Sweetie Belle, saying, "Yup. You'll have to lead me to where we need to go, though: I don't know the town all that well, yet."

"Thanks," Sweetie Belle acquiesced, before simply turning about and leading the way out.

Marshall shared a look with Rarity before following Sweetie Belle. After carefully maneuvering all of the supplies through the doorway, and generally making sure that everything was positioned so that nothing would fall out of the bags and open containers, he began to wonder what he should say, if anything. While he pondered that, he got his first good look at Sweetie Belle's cutie mark: it was of an eighth note within a star, which — in turn — was on a shield that was divided vertically by three colors. If not for a more pressing matter, he might have pondered what it meant.

After some consideration, and not wanting the silence to stretch uncomfortably long, Marshall decided to ask, "So... Are you interested in fashion?"

"A little," Sweetie Belle belatedly replied.

Marshall, relieved that she was in the mood to reply at all, said, "Well, it's nice to know that you want to help your sister. I doubt I'll be around to help her for all that long."

Unexpectedly, Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks and just stood there, which prompted him to pause and ask, "Is something up?"

"Oh!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed, as if surprised. She offered Marshall a smile that was supposed to mean, "There's nothing to worry about," and said, "Uh, no. I just thought I saw somepony I recognized..."

After Sweetie Belle returned to the task of leading him to her home, Marshall shook his head before following after her. If he was reading the situation right, he'd actually managed to have an affect upon the issue that Sweetie Belle had with him, although he couldn't be sure of just how much of one, or its exact nature. He supposed that only time would tell him.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Many ponies had taken notice of their passage, with most only taking the time needed to acknowledge it, but the attention of a few lingered, and was pronounced enough for Marshall to make note of it without returning their gaze. He didn't bother to consider that anything might be strange about any one of them, however, since he was more concerned with being able to find his way back to Rarity's place. While he wasn't above asking for directions, he felt better about being able to manage things on his own, in part because — out of necessity — he'd had to be a lot more self-reliant than his elder siblings.

Eventually, after traveling a fair distance from the more populated section of the town, Sweetie Belle took him down a path that ended at a riverside. The small pier and most of the nearby homes were nothing out of the ordinary, compared to what appeared to be common for the area, but the building that functioned as both a windmill and watermill certainly caught his attention. It also stood out because of the images of the sun and crescent moon on the door, which was framed by a horseshoe.

Sweetie Belle didn't take him there, though: instead, she led him to the three-story, thatch-roofed house that was nearby. Once there, she proceeded to open the front door and directed him to send the supplies inside. Since she wasn't entering the house, or inviting him in, Marshall opted to set the supplies down a good enough distance beyond the threshold. With that taken care of, he offered a simple goodbye before beginning his trip back to Rarity, since he didn't expect Sweetie Belle to willingly socialize with him.

However, after taking a couple of steps, he heard her call out, "Wait!"

He turned his head to regard her, idly appreciating being able to do so without shifting his lower body. "Yeah?"

With an expression that was tinged with what he could only guess was contriteness, which was accompanied by some fidgeting, she said, "Um... Since you don't have a cutie mark, would you like some help getting one?"

It took a moment for Marshall to reply, due to the question being unexpected. It also raised a question, which he voiced. "Ponies do that?"

"...Not really?" Came Sweetie Belle's uncertain reply, since getting her cutie mark had made her realize that the advice that she had dismissed, from her sister and others, could be considered a form of help.

Bemused by that answer, Marshall turned his body around so he could hold a proper conversation. He decided to share some of the thoughts that he'd had while working with Rarity, when his mind hadn't otherwise been engaged in some way. "Well, even if I wanted one, would it really do me any good? I mean, aside from my visits — and thus this body — being temporary, could it mess with the spell that's making that possible? For instance, what if getting a cutie mark ended up stranding me here, in this body?"

Sweetie Belle was disheartened by that line of thought, since any answer that she could give would only be speculation or wishful thinking. "I hadn't even thought of that..."

Marshall didn't want to leave her feeling that way, especially since she had made an effort to open up to him, so he decided to throw her a bone. "Tell you what: let me think about it. While I do, maybe I can find out if I have anything to worry about or not."

That appeared to do the trick, and this time his farewell was returned. However, despite his concerns about getting a cutie mark, as baseless as they currently were, the idea of getting one — and what it meant — still intrigued him enough to actually think about it while he walked back to his place of employment. At the very least, should he actually go through the process of getting one, he figured that it could offer some insight on the kind of direction his rudderless life needed, once his final visit with the ponies was behind him.
> Chapter 12: No Place Like Home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Marshall arrived at Rarity's residence, the owner of said residence decided that it would be best if they got his bath out of the way. Since he wasn't mentally prepared for it, he tried to postpone it by citing the fact that it would cut into her work hours. Unfortunately, Rarity countered with her desire to have him model some of her creations, in part because she simply didn't have any mannequins that would accommodate her designs, and she certainly didn't want him to wear anything while in a state of uncleanliness.

His first, proper bathing experience as a pony had started out awkward, but a concerted, determined effort to normalize things had been fairly successful. While they certainly weren't fooling themselves about the reality of their situation, by viewing the other as a twin sister, the effort had been enough to work through their initial misgivings. When all was said and done, they had felt a little silly about their qualms, and Marshall wound up realizing that he had felt more embarrassed about needing someone else's assistance to bathe him than anything else. It still didn't feel natural, but it was a start.

Once that was out of the way, Marshall joined Rarity as she got back to work. He soon learned that she was working on a new kimono, since she had finished the other one earlier that morning, and that the focus of its design would be different: rather than showcasing a panoramic image, it would allow the wearer to have their tail out in the open, which would then be incorporated into the imagery of the kimono. After enough progress had been made with the kimono, to the extent that it could be worn, Marshall got to put it on and see the effect for himself, and he had to admit that replacing the water of a waterfall with his tail worked really well with the jungle scene, in combination with the late evening colors that were a bit more vivid than normal — even for a world that appeared to take place within a cartoon setting.

They talked as they worked, with Rarity taking the initiative. She began by asking Marshall about his day, regarding the tour, entertaining the children at the school, and his experience with flying in particular. Marshall was happy to oblige her, but it eventually occurred to him that he could treat their chat as an opportunity to try and find out why she placed so much importance in her work, to the extent of it being detrimental; that, and the real reason for why she had abandoned her dream to live — and operate her business — in Canterlot. The problem was that they barely knew each other, and she hadn't even been open about it with her friends, so he figured that his only realistic option, at present, was to be sneaky about it. Unfortunately, by the end of the work day, he'd only managed to come up with ideas that had no chance of making such an effort successful.

Now, while he walked alongside Rarity, as they made their way to her parent's house, he began to wonder if he would have enough time to achieve the kind of relationship that would allow him to become Rarity's confidante. He didn't feel right about being disingenuous, which was part of the reason for why he worried about the time available to him: because a real friend wouldn't be duplicitous in order to attain any level of trust. It was at that point, when all of the new experiences weren't distracting him too much for him to think about it, that he realized just how much he had his work cut out for him, if he intended to build a close relationship with Rarity the right way.

Of course, Rarity had noticed his rumination, who turned to regard him and queried, "What are you thinking about, if you don't mind my asking?"

Marshall wasn't about to share the thoughts that he'd had on his mind, but he doubted that he could lie convincingly: not only did Rarity seem to be rather astute, and their connection provide plenty of insight, but he didn't consider himself to be a good liar. Then again, being open and honest about it might be for the best. He couldn't be sure of that, though, because he didn't have much expertise when it came to the intricacies of relationships in general, but especially when it came to anyone that he didn't know very well.

In the end, since he couldn't think of a better option, he sighed and said, "You know that your friends care about you, right?"

"Of course," Rarity patiently replied, her expression not revealing whatever thoughts that she might have had about what he could possibly say next.

"Well," Marshall temporized, as he considered how to put his next words, "Twilight is worried that your friendship is getting in the way of your, um... aspirations?"

Rarity frowned a bit as she returned her gaze to the fore. "Since she hasn't shared that idea with anypony else, I take it that she wanted you to help her uncover whether her concerns were warranted or not?"

"More or less," Marshall admitted.

Rarity fell silent, her brow furrowed in thought. When she failed to say anything by the time that Marshall could see their destination, he was convinced that she wouldn't say anything at all, and feared that he had made a mistake. Then, when they reached the front door of her family's home, she paused on the doorstep instead of opening the door, or knocking on it. By the time that Marshall felt compelled to say something, to try and salvage the situation, Rarity continued to stare at the door as she finally said, "I appreciate that you were candid with me."

"I don't think I had much of a choice, really," Marshall replied, with a shrug of his shoulders.

After turning her head to regard him, Rarity smiled and said, "Still, you could have tried." Her smiled faded, and in a more serious tone she added, "So, if you promise to never repeat what I'm about to say without my express permission, I'll tell you enough to put your mind at ease."

Surprised that he would even get that much, Marshall managed to nod his head and say, "Of course." When Rarity cocked her eyebrow expectantly, he hastily elaborated, "I mean: I promise."

Rarity looked about for potential eavesdroppers before she leaned closer to Marshall and whispered behind her hoof, saying, "Had I not been friends with Twilight and the others, I wouldn't have learned that my original plan had been a bad idea before it was too late."

Before Marshall could think to ask for more details, Rarity opened the door and entered the house, announcing their presence vocally in the process. He belatedly followed after her, wondering what her old plan could have been. It seemed a bit odd that she would want what she had told him to remain a secret, since it didn't seem like such a bad thing to share. He decided to think about it later, considering the attention that his current situation demanded.

The inside of Rarity's parents' house, from what little he saw between the front door and dining room, looked pretty mundane compared to Rarity's fanciful and colorful choice in interior design and furnishings. Overall, what he saw was fairly simple and promoted a cozy atmosphere, yet he was pretty sure that some of the furnishings weren't inexpensive by any means — not that he was an expert about such things. Either way, the dining room table was fairly large and sturdy-looking, and comfortably accommodated the six chairs around it. He couldn't really discern much else about it, though, because of the table cloth.

While he also noticed that the table was set, which included a pitcher of water and a vase of flowers that had been placed in the middle of the table, what really began to capture his attention were the aromas in the air: because there was a scent among the others that caught his attention, due to the subconscious part of his mind trying to tell him something about it that the conscious part couldn't pin down. Whatever the smell was, it was certainly familiar, but — for the life of him — he couldn't figure out how it was, or why it would matter.

His attention was soon diverted by the entrance of another pony, who entered the dining room from — as far as he could tell from his vantage point — the kitchen. She was a mare who had a pale fuchsia coat, light blue eyes, and hair that was two shades of greyish purple, one medium and the other very pale. Her mane was done up in a bouffant style, and she wore a pair of gold ball earrings and a yellow neck scarf. Just over the back of one of the chairs, he could make out her cutie mark, which appeared to be of three cookies, and one of them seemed to be in the process of crumbling apart. Although being cartoon-like made it difficult for him to judge the age of the ponies, unless they were rather young or old, he could make out — based on all of the ponies that he had seen thus far — faint signs of the mare's age, which led him to assume that she was Rarity's mother.

The assumed mother in question brightened upon seeing Rarity and spoke with an accent that Marshall recognized but couldn't put a name to. "Perfect timing, Rarity." She seemed about to say more, until her gaze fell upon Marshall. "Oh! You must be Recherché."

Rarity stepped aside so her mother could approach Marshall and give him a hug. Since it had been unexpected, he was unable to respond in kind — even if it would have been awkward — before the she disengaged and regarded him with a smile. "Welcome to our home. I'm Cookie Crumbles, but you can call me 'mom.'"

Marshall could only look on with a dumbstruck expression on his face as Rarity stared at her mother with a cocked eyebrow and said, "Really, mother?"

Undeterred, Cookie Crumbles sidled up beside Marshall so she could hug him from the side and face her daughter at the same time. "Of course! For helping my baby, the least I can do is offer a home away from home." Before Rarity could make a comment about being a grown pony that could take care of herself, she added, "Now, you two find a seat at the table while I go and get your sister."

After she left, Marshall simply stood in place, befuddled by what had just happened. While the ponies that he had encountered thus far had been rather accepting of him in general, he'd never known anyone to be so open as to accept someone into their family for such a minor — as he perceived it — effort. The gesture made him feel a little strange, even as he felt a bit touched about being on the receiving end of it.

Rarity didn't give him the opportunity to really dwell on what had happened, though, because she got his attention before directing him toward the broad side of the table that was farthest from the kitchen. Once he had seated himself next to Rarity and got himself comfortable, he quickly noticed that he had a view of the kitchen, through the cased opening that connected the two rooms. The first thing that he noticed was the white-coated stallion who had short, brown hair, and it looked like he was attending to something in front of a stove. With his back facing him, he could just make out the white point behind his mane, which he assumed was a horn. The next thing that caught his attention was the sound of something sizzling. Since he didn't know many vegetable dishes that were fried, and figured that a race of herbivores would have created a lot of them, he could only wonder what it was he was going to be served.

When the stallion — who he assumed was Rarity's father — turned his head to glance at something that was hidden by the wall, he saw that he had a mustache, bushy eyebrows and blue eyes. The mustache caught his attention, even though he had seen a few at the party yesterday, because he still thought that they looked odd on a pony. If evolution was relevant to ponies, he had to wonder how facial hair had come about, since most didn't seem to have it. He supposed that they could be shaving their facial hair, but it probably required magic to shave it without taking their coat with it, and he could only imagine how inconvenient that would be when only one type of pony had the magic to do it. Then again, how in the world could one grow so much facial hair where one's coat also grew?

Maybe he was just over-thinking it: everything did look like a cartoon, after all. Perhaps things of a nonsensical nature were to be expected.

Rarity's father noticed him and Rarity out of the corner of his eye, who turned his body ninety degrees so he could address them properly. "Well, hey there, girls! Dinner will be ready in just a sec!"

As Rarity's father returned his attention to whatever he was cooking, Rarity leaned closer to Marshall and helpfully supplied, "That's my father, Hondo Flanks."

After Marshall acknowledged that, he spent a few seconds considering Hondo Flanks' cutie mark, which consisted of three footballs, as that was all the time that he'd had to do so before Cookie Crumbles and Sweetie Belle made an appearance. While the former returned to the kitchen, the latter was all smiles as she took the seat on the narrow end of the table that was closest to Rarity. Sweetie Belle only had her eyes set on her older sister as she proceeded to enthusiastically inform her about her progress, regarding the various things that she was learning to make for her, so she didn't seem to notice him right away.

Before long, Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks entered the dining room while levitating the entirety of their meal, which they laid out upon the table before they took the seats opposite of himself and Rarity. He looked down at the contents of his plate, and that of the bowl above and to the right of it, then checked — and confirmed — that everyone had been served the same thing, and couldn't decide what to question more: the fish, the charcoaled-looking sticks that shared the plate with the aforementioned fish, or the greyish liquid that burbled viscously in the bowl.

His attention had been on the bowl when Rarity checked on him, who looked on with distaste as she tactfully said, "Yes, despite their rather... unique appearances, the taste and nutritional value of the original products haven't changed."

Before Marshall could ask any questions about it, Hondo Flanks looked in his direction and blithely commented, "Rarity used to help her mother prepare food like this all the time, you know. She had a real knack for it."

"Really?" Sweetie Belle squeaked in wide-eyed surprise, who began to look at her older sister as if seeing her for the first time.

Marshall observed Rarity out of the corner of his eye. He saw that her ears were folded down, and that the expression on her face was one of a fear realized, a fear that she had probably hoped wouldn't happen. He didn't know whether to be amused, concerned, or to take advantage of the situation in order to learn more about what made her tick, which could help him figure out what her original plan had been, and/or why she worked as hard as she did.

With a nostalgic sigh, Cookie Crumbles placed a hoof upon her cheek and spoke as she recalled bygone days. "Then she reached that age when children enter a rebellious phase, and she never grew out of it..."

Rarity groaned and covered her eyes with her hooves. "Mother, that wasn't a rebellious phase."

While Marshall was tempted to find out more about Rarity's past, which seemed possible even without his input, he decided to follow up on what he had decided to do at the front door a few minutes ago. He had gotten something out of it, after all, so there was probably a chance of learning more so long as he was respectful of her feelings and offered his support when she needed it. Besides which, he had some experience with having an embarrassing part of one's past revealed to practical strangers, so he could empathize.

With that in mind, he interjected by clearing his throat and saying, "Actually, I was more surprised that we're having fish. I thought ponies were herbivores."

"We are," Rarity replied, who regarded him with a grateful expression, "but it's alright to have some fish in our diet, and we thought that you'd like a more balanced meal."

"You see," Hondo Flanks began his explanation, who — despite the subject matter — spoke as if he were talking about the weather, even though he technically was, "a long time ago, back when the Windigos froze the land and made it difficult for Earth Ponies to grow food and all that, our ancestors had to find another source of nourishment. Desperation eventually led to the eating of fish, which were plentiful and unaffected by the cold weather, and that's how they became an optional part of our diet."

Since he had yet to encounter any of the dangers of the universe that he was in, Marshall couldn't help asking, "What are Windigos?"

Sweetie Belle eagerly rose to the task of telling him what they were: spirits that fed on hatred and fighting, who made the environment around them colder in proportion to the amount that they consumed. While Sweetie Belle spoke, he decided to start on his meal before it could get cold, beginning with the fish. It had been a while since he had eaten any fish, canned tuna aside, but the filet of pan-fried fish was enjoyable on its own merits: while he wasn't sure what kind of fish he was eating, it was nonetheless tasty, and it had only been enhanced with a good combination of butter, lemon juice and seasonings.

After Sweetie Belle finished telling him how the Windigos had been driven out of Equestria, Cookie Crumbles had chimed in and told him about Hearth's Warming Eve, since it celebrated what had arisen from that event, with the others contributing to the subject as well. The holiday reminded him of Christmas in some ways, which had — in turn — reminded him of what he had found out about his middle name. Mentioning that to Rarity while it was on his mind, and thus the table at large, had begun his own turn at being a teacher. He had to be vague about certain details, like the Pagan influences, since he didn't know much about that aspect of the holiday, but he was fairly confident that he had done a decent job of explaining the two main figures. Between Christ and Santa Claus, however, he had noticed that the latter had made the most impact on Rarity, who'd had a strange look in her eyes as she remarked, "Too bad he isn't real."

From there, conversation drifted to topics that seemed to be more at home at a family's dinner table. Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks were rather easygoing and frank, drawing him into a conversation when they could, and he was kind of amazed at how easily they had accepted him as a part of their family. While Sweetie Belle didn't seem to mind him in that regard, Rarity had given hints of reservation but didn't seem to be against the idea. He figured that her reservation stemmed from the fact that there would come a day when he wouldn't return, and thus didn't want to get too attached. However, for all that he knew, he could just be projecting his own concerns onto her.

He finished his meal in the meantime, which had been an interesting experience. The portion that had looked like charcoaled sticks had smelled much like they had looked, and had felt much the same in his mouth, but — surprisingly enough — they had tasted great. In fact, they had reminded him of Little Ceasars' Crazy Bread. The "soup" in the bowl had tasted like a salad, which included croutons and a vinegar-based dressing, but its consistency had nearly made it necessary to suppress his gag reflex. Apparently, food that was prepared to lack everything but substance was a type of "fancy" cooking. It was weird, to be sure, but he was beginning to get accustomed to learning about such things.

Of course, some topics had inevitably strayed back to Rarity's youth, although most of them hadn't been a source of embarrassment for her. One of the few exceptions, at least as far as Rarity had been concerned, was that she had once been a bit of a tomcolt. In addition to learning "fancy" cooking from her mother, she had enjoyed physical activities with her father. Plus, much like she was in the present, Rarity had been interested in finding gems, which often required plenty of exploration and physical exertion, leading to her getting dirty and/or roughed up when all was said and done. In Rarity's own defense of her younger self, though, she had been inexperienced and lacked certain skills at the time.

That particular conversation hadn't ended there, however, because Sweetie Belle had asked her older sister if that had anything to do with how she had done so well during the Sisterhooves Social race. After reluctantly admitting that past experiences might have contributed to her performance that day, Rarity was quick to latch onto his question, when he had asked what the Sisterhooves Social was all about. He didn't know what she was so worried about, though, since Sweetie Belle seemed to like what she had heard about her older sister. He decided that it was something that he would have to think about later.

Talk extended beyond the consumption of dinner, but he hadn't noticed it until Cookie Crumbles began to take the dirty dishes to the kitchen. It was getting somewhat late by then, yet it was with some reluctance that he told his hosts that he had to leave, even though he had reserved some time for Twilight Sparkle before returning to his own world and body. So, after some farewells, a promise to not be a stranger, and generally being made to feel welcome to return at any time, he set out for Twilight Sparkle's castle.

Along the way, he couldn't help smiling faintly as he thought about his experience with Rarity's family. Even before the rough patch in his parents' marriage, he couldn't remember feeling that connected to a group of people before, even despite just being introduced to them. Things just hadn't been the same after his parents had reconciled, and then he'd had to find a place of his own because of his job's location, so he might have been more susceptible than normal to such a strong familial atmosphere. Either way, it had been an enjoyable experience, so he would probably take them up on their offer to make a return visit someday.

If nothing else, it might provide him with more insight into Rarity's situation.





When Marshall entered the castle, he noticed Spike sitting against one of the pilasters near the door, reading what appeared to be a comic book. Either due to his interest in what he was reading, or what his drowsy-looking expression might indicate about his mental status, Spike didn't notice him until he closed the door, which spurred him to get up and approach him, closing his comic book in the process.

Thinking that he may have returned later than he had thought, he apologetically said, "Sorry for being late. I kinda lost track of the time."

"Don't worry about it," Spike replied, who failed to suppress a yawn when he came to a stop in front of Marshall. "I was going to read this," he made a gesture with the comic book that was in his grasp, "in bed, anyway."

"Come on," he continued, turning aside and making a beckoning motion with his free claw before beginning to walk toward the destination that he had in mind. "Twilight asked me to show you to her room, since something came up and she couldn't wait for you in yours."

As Marshall began to follow Twilight Sparkle's little helper, he inquired, "What happened?"

"Beats me," Spike replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. "She almost forgot about you when she ran off, after reading the last letter that came from Princess Luna. She seemed really excited, though, so it's probably nothing to worry about."

They continued to walk along in silence for a time, until Marshall could no longer hold in his curiosity. "So, uh... If you don't mind me asking: what are you, exactly?"

"I'm a dragon," Spike proudly stated.

While that had been one of the possibilities that Marshall had been thinking of, despite Spike's size and lack of intimidating features, it still surprised him a bit to know that dragons existed. "Wow, really? We — humans, I mean — know of dragons, but on my world they're either myth or fiction." After a second of consideration, he decided to follow that up with another question. "Are you a young dragon?"

"That's right," Spike admitted, before looking over his shoulder and slyly adding, "but dragons mature fast, so don't treat me like a kid, alright?"

"Sure thing," Marshall replied, noticing how Spike seemed pleased with himself after his answer.

A few steps later, Spike asked, "So, did you freak out when you became a pony?"

"Not really," Marshall replied, as he thought back on his first moments as a pony, aside from the initial period that was nothing more than a hazy and confusing memory. "Even though I hadn't believed Rarity at first, it helped to know what she had told me once that changed. For the most part, though, I was relieved that what she had said was true, since hearing a voice I couldn't explain was kind of, well... worrisome." Then, upon realizing that Spike's question seemed a bit out of place, he inquired, "Why do you ask?"

Spike turned his head aside, so Marshall could no longer see the side of his face from his vantage point, and evasively said, "I was just wondering."

Marshall looked at him dubiously, but didn't make an issue out of it.

A few minutes later, after ascending into a higher level of the castle than where his guest bedroom could be found, they arrived at a door that was located at the end of a hallway. When Spike rapped upon it, they both heard the muffled voice of Twilight Sparkle, who called out, "Come in!"

While the bleary-eyed dragon parted ways with him, Marshall needed to gather some of his nerves before opening the door and lightly stepping into Twilight Sparkle's bedroom. He'd always felt a bit weird when it came to being in someone else's bedroom, in part because it was a private area and he didn't want to see anything that the owner wouldn't want him to, but he was especially feeling nervous and out of place in this one, since Twilight Sparkle was royalty. Sure, she didn't want him to perceive her that way, outside of occasions where observing formalities were expected, but he had a hard time separating her from her title when he had to worry about respecting such a personal space.

The room in question didn't have much in the way of things to worry about, though: it didn't have that much more of a lived-in look than the guest bedroom that he had been provided with for the extent of his stay. Aside from a canopy bed and the nightstand that accompanied it, there was a long, two-shelf bookcase full of books, a telescope, and two types of windows — neither of which were a match to the kind that was in his own room. Above the bookcase was a hanging lamp, which shone light upon a mirror and several framed pictures that hung on the wall with it, along with the ones that stood on their easel backs on top of the bookcase.

As tempting as it was to look at those pictures, he forced his attention toward Twilight Sparkle, who was standing at an open window and staring through the eyepiece of the telescope. She appeared to be engrossed with whatever she was looking at, so he wasn't sure if he should approach her or not, or if he should say anything just yet.

Fortunately, Twilight Sparkle thought that the source of her interest was worth sharing, because she eventually regarded him with a look of excitement and suggested, "Come and have a look!"

Since he saw no reason not to, he made his way over to the telescope and carefully drew an eye to the eyepiece, not wanting to accidentally bump into anything and lose sight of whatever the telescope was being directed at. What he saw was a comet with two very distinct tails, with the dust tail a snow white and the gas tail an electric blue. He didn't know what was so exciting about the comet, but he did think that it was pretty cool, partly because it was his first time getting a good look at one in its natural environment, rather than seeing it from a photographic image.

"That's Pandora," Twilight Sparkle helpfully informed him, when he finished looking at the aforementioned comet. "Arguably the longest-known comet in recorded history. Due to its erratic movements we never know exactly when it will appear next, so I didn't even expect to see it during my lifetime." She turned to look out the window, in the direction of the comet, and cheerfully added, "Oh, I can't wait for it to get closer! There haven't been many opportunities to study it, so I'm hoping we can learn more about it before it leaves."

Thinking that a part of what she had said had been odd, Marshall decided to inquire about it. "In this universe, comets don't follow orbits?"

Twilight Sparkle stared at him blankly for a second before she realized what the problem was, at which point she turned a bit sheepish. "Oh, no: most do — have an orbit, I mean. Pandora's the only exception, as far as anypony knows. However, the earliest records of its behavior suggests that it used to have a predictable orbit."

Intrigued, in part because the comet was only the second thing that wasn't a mystery to him alone since his arrival on Twilight Sparkle's world, he asked, "Really? Any theories on why that changed?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, Twilight Sparkle replied, "Not really. Pandora hasn't been around for observation since long before the time when science began to prevail over superstition."

"Oh?" Marshall voiced his curiosity, since he wondered about the kind of superstitions a sapient species would have about comets when the existence of magic was a reality. "When was it last seen? Back in the day, humans usually viewed a comet's presence to mean that something bad was going to happen."

Twilight Sparkle blinked her eyes in mild surprise. "Really?" Upon receiving a nod of confirmation, she went on to say, "It's the opposite for us: we thought that comets brought good fortune, or that good times were coming." Her expression turned thoughtful. "We may have perceived them in a different light than humans because we identified the comets that had a tail and mane as fellow ponies — in a fashion." She tilted her head up and to the side, as her thoughts took another turn. "You know, now that I think about it, the last time that Pandora could be seen with the naked eye was around the time of Discord's defeat at the hooves of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna..."

When that line of thought didn't seem to lead anywhere, she shook her head and refocused her attention on Marshall. "Anyway, you didn't come here to talk about comets." Her horn lit up, and a book flew from the bookcase and stopped between them. "Here you go. The spell you're going to learn starts on page forty-two. Ordinarily, I'd have you start with a primer on magic theory, reference and history books, and a regimen of exercises at the very least, but I realized that you don't really have the time for that." She smiled wryly and added, "That, and this is a fairly easy spell, which I suspect you'll have a knack for."

Marshall made to take the book being offered to him, but his inexperience with interacting with another's magic field caused him to lose his hold on it. Fortunately, Twilight Sparkle was quick to catch it, who was happy to make an impromptu lesson out of what had happened. Once Marshall had gotten the hang of using his magic field more dynamically while interacting with another's, Twilight Sparkle offered her bed to study on, which he accepted with some reservation.

After lying down on his belly and getting himself comfortable, Twilight Sparkle told him to call for her if he needed anything before returning to the telescope. So, he proceeded to open the book and skip to the desired page, where he found a "memory projection" spell. The spell pretty much did as it was named: the user focused on a memory — the fresher the better — and channeled it through one's horn, in a way that was likened to a movie projector. By default, the memory had to be projected onto something, but someone could project it onto their magic field if they had enough skill when it came to the manipulation of it.

The next thing that he noticed was the reason for why such a relatively easy spell required over a dozen pages: whether it was because the spell was easy or not, there were a multitude of ways for someone to successfully cast the spell. By the time that he'd read half of them, he got the impression that it wasn't so much that the spell could be done in any one of those ways by anyone, but that some may be easier than others for certain ponies, or — in some cases — the only way for a pony to cast the spell.

As interesting as that was, though, he had a spell to learn, so he could return home with enough time for Rarity, some research, and whatever memories he'd have ready for the spell before he had to go to work. It took some experimentation to find a method that worked well for him, but he eventually got the image of the comet that he'd seen a few minutes ago projected onto a wall: all he'd had to do was visualize, with his mind's eye, a chalkboard where only what he wrote on it — which he got from the book's instruction — became a reality in conjunction with the application of magic, rather than at the behest of any thought that he happened to have at the time.

The projection didn't last long, nor his rising excitement at casting an actual spell, because his focus was interrupted by Twilight Sparkle, who suddenly exclaimed, "Wow!" She continued to express her surprise as she made her way over to the bed. "I was expecting you to learn the spell quicker than a novice, but succeeding this soon is amazing."

Marshall turned his head away for a moment and modestly said, "I think you can attribute most of that to the spell itself. Because of how easy it seems to be, and how the book doesn't cater to a certain standard, I figured that the book wasn't simply giving options."

"You're right," Twilight Sparkle confirmed, with a single nod of her head. "Magic performance is dependent on several factors. While knowledge, focus and determination can help the vast majority of unicorns to cast a spell successfully, assuming that they have enough magic for it, the difficulty is generally determined by the characteristics of their magic, horn, and — later — their special talent."

As interesting as that was, Marshall didn't want to keep Rarity waiting or lose too much free time between that and work, so he closed the book and reluctantly said, "Well, as much as I'd like to stay and learn more about magic, I should probably get going."

Twilight Sparkle nodded her head in understanding and sent the book back from whence it had come. "Of course. But, before you go, can I ask you something?"

After Marshall got down from the bed, he replied, "Sure."

"Well," Twilight Sparkle began, who was unable to completely hide the hopeful expectation from entering her voice and eyes, "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind having more company in your head when it's convenient for you? I learned from Princess Luna that the spell that I had crafted for Rarity was compatible with her dream-linking spell, since I had used her spell as its basis, and I was hoping that I could see your world for myself."

Marshall blinked his eyes as he digested her request, partly because he had to wonder how difficult it had been to make a new spell compared to the one that he had just cast, which — for the most part — hadn't demanded much beyond mental discipline. "Sure. Other than spending more time here this weekend, I didn't have anything else planned."

Twilight Sparkle brightened upon hearing that. "Great!"

"So, uh," Marshall began, as he turned aside to leave, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." After taking a few steps toward the door, however, he realized that he wasn't quite sure how to find his way back to his room. He hadn't been all that confident about his mental mapping in the first place, but his most recent activities had allowed a blank spot to form in his memory.

"Is something the matter?" Twilight Sparkle asked Marshall, when he stopped in midstep.

"Um," Marshall voiced, as he ducked his head in embarrassment, "I might need help finding my room..."

Understanding his plight, it was with a measure of sympathy that Twilight Sparkle said, "Oh, I see." After some thought, she gestured toward her bed and suggested, "Well, if you want, you can use my bed."

Marshall regarded her with an uncertain expression on his face. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't think a night on the floor will be all that bad."

Slightly amused by his reservation, Twilight Sparkle replied, "I don't mind. There's plenty of room, and I'll be up a bit longer to study the comet, anyway."

"Well, if you're sure..." Marshall yielded, since he didn't see anything to gain from arguing.

While Twilight Sparkle went back to the telescope, he returned to her bed and opted for a spot at the foot of it, where he would be out of her way. Once he was settled and comfortable, and had put out of his mind how friendly and accommodating certain ponies were, he laid his head down, closed his eyes and moved his consciousness back into his human body.





After assisting Rarity with her research, Marshall looked for things on the Internet that he couldn't go to see personally, whether due to issues with time, distance, money or some other obstacle. For the most part, what came to mind were things that would likely interest Twilight Sparkle the most: stuff about the solar system, feats of engineering, some notable parts of history, and modern technology that seemed to be worth mentioning. For Pinkie Pie, he left his house an hour before he had to start his shift at work, so he could browse the shops — which he knew of — that specialized in selling or producing certain goods, such as candy, chocolate and baked treats. Then, he went to the supermarket where he was employed and browsed some things there before he had to clock in at the deli.

While at work, he avoided some of the usual tedium of the job by thinking about his time as Recherché, as well as his experiences with certain ponies. He was kind of amazed at how quickly he had gotten used to being a pony, despite how much he had tried to put the new body out of his mind, but he supposed that he had that sympathetic resonance to thank for that. Still, once he had really thought about it, he had to admit that it didn't really bother him to be a pony — not even the fact that he was a female one.

That last part was harder to explain, but he did have some ideas about it. The most obvious was that it hadn't really affected him much, personally or socially. For the most part, his issues stemmed from how he had been brought up, rather than being faced with situations where overtly feminine behaviors were expected of him. Then, there was the fact that he was being made to feel welcome and accepted, probably because certain ponies really wanted things to work out well. He desired the same thing, which was why he was so willing to be cooperative and accommodating, so he figured that he probably shouldn't be all that surprised at how well he had been adapting to the situation.

When all was said and done, though, there wasn't much that could drive him away from the opportunity of using magic, in addition to the possibility of being able to fly again. Plus, even though he was a bit uncomfortable with how friendly some of the ponies had been, since — from personal experience — it was kind of unreal, it was welcome nonetheless. There was no doubt that it was better than all of the hours that he usually spent alone, and the arm's-length relationships that he had with most people.

After work, but before assuming the guise of Recherché, the only notable event had been the message that his mother had left on his answering machine. Apparently, his sister, Meg, was going to visit his parents and stay for the weekend. His mother had wanted to inform him of it in case he wanted to see her in person, since his sister could only manage such a visit two or three times a year, due to living over a thousand miles away.

His relationship with his sister was lukewarm, so he had been unsure if he would be willing to sacrifice some of his time in the other universe for her. After some consideration, he had chosen to leave the possibility open but express the likelihood that prior arrangements might get in the way. It was true enough, so he hadn't felt guilty about saying that to his mother — which he had delivered via text message, since she would have likely been in bed at the time. On a whim, he had also asked for one of his grandmother's casserole recipes, because he felt like returning the kindness that he had received from Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks.

When he opened his eyes as Recherché, he wasn't surprised to find himself alone in Twilight Sparkle's bedroom. He was, however, surprised to find himself tucked under the covers at the head of her bed. With a slight smile and shake of his head, he left the bed's comfy confines. After tidying it up, he headed for the door, wondering if "go down" would be a good enough strategy for finding his way to the dining room.

In front of the door, he immediately noticed a piece of rolled-up parchment lying on the floor. Since "Recherché" was written on the outside, he picked it up, broke the seal and pulled it open. As it turned out, it hadn't needed any help in showing him its contents, because the deceptively-small parchment unrolled to the floor, where it proceeded to bounce and roll along the ground nearly far enough for it to reach one of the room's walls. Baffled by that in more ways than one, he began to read the message that had been left to him, hoping that it would reveal what was going on with the size of its medium.

The longer that he read it, however, the farther his jaw slackened, and his eyes widened, in awe and disbelief. There was no doubt that what he had were directions, to get him to his destination from his current location. However, there was so much redundancy from taking into account any possible error in following said directions, how to recognize the error, and how to correctly proceed from there, that he wouldn't be surprised if most — if not all — of the castle was being referenced.

He didn't know Twilight Sparkle well enough to know if she were playing a joke on him, or if he had just experienced a particularly strange quirk of hers, or what, so it took him a moment to get his mind in gear to figure out his next course of action. Eventually, glancing at one of the windows made him wish that he could fly again, since he could find his way to the dining room from the castle's main entrance. That's when a thought struck him: hadn't he — Rarity, technically — carried himself into that backroom yesterday?

Despite having flown at reckless speeds yesterday, as well as crashing plenty while he had been learning how to fly, he still felt nervous after opening one of the windows and peering over its sill. Eventually, though, he was able to steel himself and follow through with his idea. It was only after hovering near the window sill for a moment, to make sure he had something to grab onto in case his idea turned out to be a bad one, that he proceeded with confidence and eased himself to the ground at a sedate pace.

Upon landing, it was with a bounce in his step that he entered the castle and found his way to the dining room. Waiting for him there was Spike, who had prepared a meal for him yet again. After thanking him for it, he ate his meal at a slightly-hurried pace, since he wanted to start helping Rarity on time for once. He was still able to enjoy the food, even though half of it would have normally been a part of a horse's diet on his world, rather than a human's.

Once he was finished eating, and told by Spike that he would handle the plate and cup that he had dirtied, he set out to Rarity's place at a good canter. However, it wasn't long after he had left the castle that he was stopped by the kind of voice that he associated with a stereotypical witch, as its owner yelled, "Excuse me! Young lady!"

He paused and looked for the source of the voice. What he found was an old, Earth Pony mare standing just outside of a house, with the front door wide open, who had a dark blue coat, white hair and dark green eyes. She looked familiar, and it took a second for him to realize that she had been the pony that he had waved to from the tree yesterday.

Since her attention appeared to be on him, and he was in a sparsely-populated part of the town, he assumed that the "young lady" that she had called out to was him. After crossing the distance that separated them, he asked, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry for bothering you, dear," the old mare began, "but I was hoping that you could help me. You see, I want to send a bottle of cider to my son, as a gift, but I'm not as spry as I used to be and I fear I'll have an accident."

Just to make sure that what she was asking was clear to him, Marshall inquired, "So, you just want me to get that cider for you?" Upon receiving a nod of confirmation, he said, "Okay; show me where it is."

The old mare smiled with gratitude. "Oh, thank you so much! Here; it's this way..."

She led him to the living room, where a simple rug had been pulled away, revealing a trapdoor that was already open. When he stood close enough to the opening to stare into the murky depths of the cellar, and didn't take any immediate action, the old mare came up beside him and asked, "Is something the matter, dear?"

Marshall didn't want to try walking down stairs in the dark, at least without some form of reliable help, so he turned to the old mare and answered with a question of his own. "Is there a light?"

"Of course," the old mare replied, before helpfully supplying, "The light cord is near the landing. You can't miss it with the light of your horn."

Marshall blinked his eyes at that, then raised his gaze upward and called forth the aura that surrounded his horn whenever he was using magic. He hadn't noticed that it gave off any light, probably because he'd usually been in well-lit environments, but he guessed that the idea stood to reason since he could see it. With a bit of a mental push, he found out that he could even make it brighter, to the point where he could tell a difference in how far down the stairs he could see.

With a slight grin, he began his descent down the stairs, which turned out to be rather uneventful. However, once the hanging light bulb was on, and he could see the contents of the cellar better, it wasn't long before he noticed a problem: an obvious location for a bottle of cider to be stored. All he could see was a number of cobwebs, a tall, backless bookcase that was empty save for a few unknown objects, a couple of smallish boxes, and the dust that covered it all. He supposed that the cider could have been stored in a box, but — by the looks of things — he doubted it.

Right as he was beginning to feel that there was something strange about the situation, he heard an odd sound behind him, which was followed by the room being bathed in a green light. Unsure of what to expect, since he didn't know much about the world or the ponies in Ponyville, but hoping that it wasn't anything to worry about, he looked behind himself as calmly as he could manage.

What he saw was a green pillar of... something rising up from the ground, splashing against the joists and floorboards above. When it dissipated, his initial reaction was to stiffen in fright when a large, pony-like creature revealed itself. It had a dark body, lanky, teal hair, green eyes, some kind of ornament on her head, and a wicked-looking horn. What set it apart from the other ponies that he had seen so far, though, were the canine teeth, insect-like wings, the odd coloration and features across its back and around its barrel, and the holes above its hooves but below the knees and hocks.

However, it wasn't its appearance that had him cowering and shaking, with his ears pinned to his skull as he stared at it with wide eyes, wishing that he was back home: it was the malicious grin on its face, and how the creature began to loom over him with its superior size.
> Chapter 13: The Queen and I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marshall suddenly found himself staring up at a familiar — if nondescript — ceiling, which he could barely see with the meager amount of light being provided by his bedroom's sole window. It took him a moment to do more than that, as his discombobulated mind tried to adjust to having a body that no longer had an elevated heart rate, adrenaline pumping through its veins, or any other symptom that properly reflected the state of fright it was in, even as said fright began to ebb. Unlike waking from a bad dream, he felt disconnected from his experience as Recherché; he wasn't even sweating, which he would have expected after having a dream as scary as what had happened to him — had it actually been one. Eventually, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed, then planted his elbows upon his knees, covered his face with his hands, and began to think about the situation.

To begin with, he was immensely relieved to know that having a strong desire to escape back to his human body had also been a viable means of moving his consciousness. It was a bit difficult for him to wrap his head around the fact that he had been in danger at all, though, because — while he knew that certain things could happen to anyone — he'd lived a life where being attacked by someone happened to other people. Sure, he'd been bullied a little before high school, but he had never feared for his life.

Then, of course, were the obvious questions: what had that creature been, and why had it targeted him? Had that old pony kept it as a pet, or something, and had tried to feed him to it? What had that light show been about, anyway? It certainly didn't seem to be conducive toward making a surprise attack. Since it happened on a world with magic, and he wasn't all that familiar with what was possible with it, he could only imagine what its purpose could have been.

He got to his feet and turned on the overhead light before he began to pace about his room, trying to decide on what to do next: should he wait for Rarity to contact him, once he had been late enough for her to realize that something might be amiss, or should he try to return to Recherché's body and find out more about the situation? The first option would be perfectly safe for him, but what if that creature wasn't just a danger to him, and waiting for Rarity to contact him would be enough time for it to escape and put someone else in jeopardy at a later date? On the other hand, going back could very well lead to something unpleasant happening to him...

Eventually, he stopped behind his desk chair and gripped its back with both hands as he struggled to make a choice. It wasn't until his gaze happened to catch sight of his gamepad that his thoughts finally found a line of logic that led to an acceptable answer to his internal debate. As far as he was aware, he'd simply return to his own body if Recherché's body perished, so it wasn't like his life would actually be at stake. For all intents and purposes, he would have as many lives as Recherché as somepony was willing to make him a new body. That didn't mean that he would be spared the experience of pain or death, but he could end up being more helpful before — potentially — having to wait for Rarity anyway.

He'd never had the opportunity to do such a thing before. It was so fantastical compared to his ordinary way of life that he once again began to wonder if he were crazy. Yet, beneath his apprehension existed a spark, the one that had been doused by adulthood but reignited by magic, inter-dimensional travel, and new friends. It was that last aspect that truly spurred him into action, because he didn't like the thought of what could happen to them — or even to himself — should it turn out that he could have made a difference, had he not chosen to idle the time away.

So, he turned off the light, returned to bed and laid down. He had some difficulty calming down enough to move his consciousness, but he succeeded before too long. It had taken him a few seconds to realize it, though, because the cellar was now as dark as his bedroom had been, with the only light source being the trapdoor that had — thankfully — been left open. It wasn't until he had noticed how different his body felt as it laid on the cool, hard floor, that he took a calming breath and told his body to move.

Glad that he had been able to return to Recherché, and that his body didn't appear to have been mistreated during his absence, he lit up his horn and looked around. While he had been untouched, the same couldn't be said for the bookcase, which had been smashed into pieces. The boxes, too, had seen some rough treatment: they had been knocked away from where they had been located, and damaged enough by the force used that the clothing contained within them had been strewn about the cellar.

That discovery was enlightening, but also enough of a concern to make him nervous. However, when he caught the sound of a voice coming from the floor above him, he did his best to calm his heart before making his way to the stairs. Since he wasn't sure what kind of situation he was dealing with, exactly, he opted to not be sneaky, so he wouldn't inspire a negative response from that alone. It wasn't like he was good at sneaking around or fighting, anyway, so he figured that he might as well be the unassuming and unintimidating fellow that came naturally to him... and hope for the best, of course.

Whether from the sound of his hooves or the stairs groaning under his weight, or — possibly — even the light from his horn, whoever had been speaking stopped abruptly. Fortunately, while the ensuing silence unnerved him a bit, no one accosted him or closed the trapdoor before he could leave the cellar. Though hesitant upon seeing the creature from before, once his eyes had cleared the floor, he ceased using his horn to light his way and forced himself onward, until he had all four hooves standing on the living room floor.

The creature stood half of the room's length away from him, and beside it was a similar-looking creature, save that it was noticeably smaller, lacked hair, and each of its blue eyes lacked a pupil and an iris. While the big one simply looked down on him with displeasure, the small one had taken an aggressive stance and seemed ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Not knowing what to do, partly due to the fact that he was using a hefty portion of his mental resources to keep calm and not show any weakness, he ended up waiting for the other party to take the initiative.

The big one seemed to run out of patience, who — in a clearly-feminine voice — spat, "Come to gloat, have you? Perhaps I should destroy that body of yours just to spite you, after all."

Despite the threat, and because of it, Marshall purposefully focused on the first thing that had been said, which had him a bit confused. "Why would I gloat?"

The female-seeming creature narrowed her eyes at him and raised her voice as she said, "Are you trying to play me for a fool?"

Seeing that the situation was degenerating for some reason, Marshall's growing anxiety began to show itself as he tried to express his actual motives. "N-no. I was just, um, curious?" Knowing how lame that sounded without having to see the disbelief on either creature's face, he added, "I-I mean: what are you? And w-what did you want with me?"

After being on the receiving end of the female's scrutiny long enough for it to make him uncomfortable, she spared her smaller companion enough of her attention to convey a slight nod of her head. In response, said companion did something that looked like a very abbreviated version of the green, liquid fire-looking pillar from before, and — just like that — it assumed the identity of the old mare that had requested his aid earlier. He could only watch in wonder as the disguised creature calmly left through the front door before closing it behind itself, making it clear that leaving him alone with the apparent leader was quite intentional.

He grew more nervous as the only other occupant of the room stared at him silently, calculatingly, unaware of what she knew about him, or what her motives might be. He also had no idea of what she had in mind at that precise moment, since sending the other creature outside must have served some kind of purpose. He certainly hoped that he wasn't about to find out what death was like, since that typically happened to fictional characters who were under similar circumstances as his own.

Finally, she approached him with a casual yet confident gait, until she threatened to invade his personal space. He couldn't help gulping as he raised his head to maintain eye contact with her. While staring down her nose at him, she evenly asked, "Are you trying to stall me?"

He must have shown the lack of anticipation for such a question on his face, because she chuckled before he could reply and said, "Interesting. Well, it's not every day that you get to speak with something from another universe." She turned about and put some distance between them, and with her horn aglow she seized a large, round cushion and placed it where she planned to sit. Once she had deemed herself comfortable enough on said cushion, she returned her attention to him and pompously stated, "I am Chrysalis, queen of the Changelings."

Relieved that she was willing to talk with him, Marshall sat down on his haunches, which he was thankful for because his legs had become a bit weak and shaky. "I'm Marshall, but I'm going by Recherché while I'm here."

"I know," Chrysalis replied, with a self-satisfied grin. "As I'm sure you can imagine, I have... ways of gathering information."

Marshall nodded his head in agreement. Then, since he had heard of his own world's version of changelings, and had seen one from this world assume another's form, he hesitantly — due to her self-proclaimed status as a queen — decided to ask, "So, uh, you guys replace people — er, ponies?"

"Obviously," Chrysalis replied, who appeared to regard his question as a stupid one. "We feed on love, you see, so we can't approach our prey as we are and expect them to give it to us."

Glad that she hadn't said anything about the way that he had spoken to her, since royalty stereotypically demanded that a certain kind of behavior be observed by those beneath their station, Marshall was free to focus all of his attention on what she had said. With his brow furrowed in thought, he tried and failed to figure out what he could offer her in that regard, since he had no idea how much love anyone had, so he asked, "Why would you want to replace me?"

Chrysalis' expression soured. "We have other ways of getting what we want. While I was aware that taking your place wouldn't have worked, I hadn't anticipated how easily you could move your consciousness between bodies. Thanks to that, I have no choice but to pull my forces out of Ponyville for the time being."

Although she was being vague about certain things, Marshall was able to glean enough from what had been said to get a better understanding of the situation, as well as some of the rationale behind it. By stating an open-ended objective that could be achieved by a means other than replacement, that likely meant that they had planned to use him to gain access to their actual target, rather than feeding off of him while a masquerade made sure that no one noticed his absence. Since they couldn't take his place, he could only imagine that some kind of mind control would have been used. Which seemed achievable, considering how magic probably made it possible to control someone's mind, and how a failure to access his consciousness appeared to be the determining factor for Chrysalis' change of plans.

Chrysalis had also assumed that he would tell someone about her, which would require her to leave Ponyville before getting caught. While he certainly would, if she was as bad as she seemed to be, based on her threatening behavior and desire to evade capture, he wondered if it was really necessary. He could understand where she was coming from, so maybe there was a chance for him to do something good if there was an opportunity to do it. Of course, before that, he would have to learn more about the changelings and Chrysalis' plans, in order to find out if he should bother with such an undertaking at all.

Figuring that he could take a gamble and follow up on his last question, between having discovered another known method of moving his consciousness and Chrysalis not knowing exactly how he did it, he decided to pursue a hunch and ask, "So, was it Twilight you were after, then?"

Appearing to be more amused than impressed by his question, Chrysalis blithely said, "Was it that obvious?" She waved a hoof dismissively. "Well, it doesn't matter whether she knows or not." Then, she proceeded to glance upward thoughtfully, in a contrived manner, before grinning evilly and adding, "Although I'm sure that she will have fun looking over her shoulder for a while..."

Keeping that response in mind for possible future reference, Marshall kept himself on track, now that he was sure of the target. "Why her?"

"Why not?" Chrysalis retorted, becoming a bit annoyed. "Now, I didn't spare you the inconvenience of creating a new vessel just so you could interrogate me. Unless you want that to change, I suggest that you make this chat worthwhile for me."

That made Marshall pause and think about his next course of action, since he didn't want to give up on the chance to make a difference somewhere just yet, even if that somewhere happened to be on another world. Normally he wouldn't entertain such a fanciful idea, but that wasn't to say that he hadn't harbored it, knowing that — in reality — he would either lack the guts or the skills if the opportunity arose to do something extraordinary or heroic. However, between having Recherché's magic, being in another universe, not having to worry too much about his well-being or life, wanting to do his new friends a favor, and hearing some of the heroic exploits of said friends, he was feeling uncharacteristically bold.

So, after considering the things that he knew so far, he decided to go with something risky, which made his heart quicken its pace. "As the queen, is feeding your subjects your top priority?"

At first, Chrysalis simply looked unamused by his question. However, it wasn't long before her eyes narrowed, as she realized the direction that such an inquiry could lead to, partly due to his last question. Her horn lit up, and Marshall found himself enveloped in her magic field. Unlike the times that his own had enveloped him, however, it felt constrictive, and he was being compressed enough by it to strain some parts of his body painfully.

After he was raised into the air and brought over to her, until his face was only a few inches away from her own, she spoke to him in a low and menacing tone. "Don't think I haven't heard about how your kind hunts and domesticates its own food. You aren't going to tell me that there's something wrong with doing the same, are you?"

Despite being scared, and struggling more out of reflex than on purpose, Marshall was able to grunt out, "I won't, ugh, argue on that point. But, if it were really the same, ugh, thing, then why haven't you gotten the ponies under your control?"

Chrysalis grimaced, as if she had tasted something unappetizing, and flung him back to where he had been sitting before. After a bit of a hard landing, followed by some tumbling, he slid to a stop beside the cellar's entrance, with his head hanging over the opening. At that point, once she was sure that he wouldn't be too distracted to listen to her, she acerbically stated, "Don't speak to me as if you know anything."

With a wince, Marshall favored the shoulder that he had initially landed on as he rose to his hooves, which he began to rub after he turned to face the Changeling queen. Now that he appeared to be out of any immediate danger, relatively speaking, he was able to calm himself down a bit before he re-established eye contact with her and made his next inquiry. "Are the effects of feeding on love that bad, then?"

"Even if they weren't," Chrysalis bitterly replied, with a tinge of weariness, "it wouldn't change anything." A second later, she chuckled to herself as she regarded him with a somewhat mocking expression.

A bit irritated by that despite his mood and the situation, Marshall couldn't help asking, "What's so funny?"

With half-lidded eyes, and clearly amused by his irritation, Chrysalis said, "Here you are, new to this world, with barely enough love to whet the appetite of a starving changeling, and you're trying to be charitable to the one that tried to make you an unwitting pawn."

After Marshall restrained himself from making a retort, which would set him off track, he managed to work up the nerve to stare into Chrysalis' eyes defiantly while he voiced one of his observations. "You didn't say that eating love would be bad without exception. Was that on purpose?"

Chrysalis returned his stare with one of her own, her expression blank. After a moment, probably after some thought, she levelly asked, "Do you really wish to help?"

Marshall hesitated for a split second, when a familiar sense of doubt began to niggle at the edges of his awareness, but he had an unusual well of confidence to draw from, which gave him the determination to nod his head in confirmation. He didn't quite understand it, but — now that he noticed it — what he was doing felt like it was being driven by more than just good will and personal achievement. If he didn't know any better, he almost felt convinced that he could help her.

In response, Chrysalis stood up from her cushion and turned away from him. She stepped over to one of the windows, and held her gaze in that direction even though the curtains had been drawn closed. After a lengthy span of silence, she finally said, "How much our feeding affects our prey depends on how much love is available, and how much we take in a given amount of time." She turned her head enough to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. "For instance: even if I were to take all of the love that you have been bestowed in an instant, you would barely feel it because you have so little."

As curious as Marshall was about the amount of love he had, especially since it seemed to be a kind that was projected onto others instead of produced by oneself, he remained on topic. "So, if someone had a lot of love, and you fed on them slowly...?"

"It would only be detrimental if they were fed upon too often for too long," Chrysalis answered, before she turned her head away and stared toward the window again. "But such an opportunity can only happen under more ideal circumstances. Between keeping our presence secret and feeding an entire hive, it's difficult to keep ourselves well-fed. We can't make a habit of holding anyone hostage, because there's only so much missing time that an excuse or explanation can fill when we return them. We can't assume just any identity and risk a discrepancy regarding their whereabouts at a given time, or being ignorant about something that the original subject would have certainly known. Nor can we rotate too many of my subjects on the prey that we have access to, because it's often difficult to organize and more likely to be detrimental to our prey, which can draw unwanted attention." She paused for a second, perhaps to think about what she wanted to say next. "Tricking our prey to direct their love toward us is our preferred method of feeding, because it tastes much better and won't cause any side-effects, but we often resort to using force because it's easier to accomplish and less time-consuming. That, and long-term commitments have a greater chance of exposing us, and when that happens to one, it could affect all of the others in the area, as well as beyond."

As Marshall digested that, he could see why such a race would want control over their source of food, and thus setting their sights on those with the greatest authority among said source. Aside from their perceptions being colored by their predatory nature, he could see how ponies might not give them a warm welcome on looks alone, never mind after being asked to serve themselves as their meal. That's not to say that such things had happened in the changelings' past, because he certainly wouldn't know, but he could understand their position even if they had always been antagonistic.

Either way, nothing good would await him, his new friends, or any other pony if the changelings didn't, well, change their ways. To that end, he carefully considered his next words before he said them. "If you were presented a way to feed your subjects adequately, and it meant having a peaceful relationship with Equestria, would you accept it?"

Chrysalis snorted with what sounded like amusement, but she had a serious expression on her face when she turned around and began to approach him. "I highly doubt that such a thing could happen, but," she stopped and looked down at him, in a way that sent a jolt of nervousness through his body, "I will allow you the chance to prove me wrong." She lowered her head until all that he could see was her intense, narrow-eyed gaze as she softly added, "Should you betray my trust, however, I will make sure that the rest of your time spent on this world will be... unpleasant." She proceeded to raise her head, and her expression relaxed somewhat. "Do you understand?"

Marshall could only nod his head stiffly in reply.

"Good," Chrysalis stated in a self-satisfied manner.





After Marshall learned a few more things about changelings, which could help him with his endeavor, Chrysalis allowed him to leave. Once outside, he spared the house a backward glance before moving on, his mind burdened by a multitude of thoughts. Not only had he encountered someone that could be perceived as being a villain, and had a somewhat civil conversation with them instead of being their victim, but he had more or less volunteered to help them out — at no one else's expense, of course.

While he walked to his place of employment, he couldn't help wondering what he could do. Even if he could come up with a solution, it was likely that it wouldn't be something that he could accomplish on his own: either he would lack the know-how and/or resources, be unable to do it without being noticed, or — for a number of reasons — he would have to inform the princesses.

The situation seemed to call for the princesses' involvement, as far as he figured, but he wasn't sure if that would be a good idea or not. Of the ones that he was aware of, he barely knew Twilight Sparkle, and she was the one that he was the closest to. What if the presence and potential threat of the changelings was enough for a hostile response, instead of offering an olive branch? On top of that, he didn't know what kind of history the changelings had with Equestria, and thus how that might affect the princesses' choice of action as well.

Ultimately, though, if there was going to be any chance of a good outcome, he'd probably have to conceive a solution that both sides could accept, rather than depending on Equestria's royalty to come up with something themselves, which would rely on them favoring a peaceful relationship. Somehow, he had to think of something that the changelings could offer the ponies of Equestria, who — in turn — would be willing to part with some of their love for. What did changelings have in supply that the ponies of Equestria would have a demand for, though?

The first thing that came to mind were spies, but he wasn't sure if Equestria needed them, let alone an entire race of them. There was labor in general, of course, but he could see how paying with love — instead of money — could create a problem, whether there were enough job openings or not. Then he thought of another job where a changeling's shape-shifting ability could come in handy: being a stunt double. Again, however, he didn't think that such a profession would have a need for an entire race; he wasn't even sure what kind of film industry Equestria had, if it had one at all.

That last thought made him pause, because it inspired an idea that seemed to have a lot of potential: changelings as movie stars. After all, not only could they assume any role, but they could probably physically portray pre-existing characters — either fictional or non-fictional — with a greater degree of accuracy. More importantly, not only was it possible for all of the changelings to participate, but it was an occupation that could inspire love and admiration.

It seemed like such a good idea that he continued to think about it until he arrived at Rarity's place, where his musings were interrupted by said pony's greeting when he entered her work space. "Oh, there you are, Recherché. I was beginning to—" She peered over her glasses, with an expression that couldn't seem to settle between curiosity and concern. "Why do you look so disheveled?"

Marshall looked down at himself and noticed that his white coat was made grey by dust in a lot of places. Then, he looked at his tail before pushing some of his mane into view, and saw that his hair was in slight disarray in addition to having some dust in it. While he didn't think that he looked all that bad, if there was anything about Rarity that he had learned well in the past few days, it was that she was very sensitive about things that were out of place about someone's appearance.

The problem, of course, was explaining how he had come to be in such a state in the first place. He could have avoided it if he had noticed how he looked beforehand, but he'd never been big on checking his appearance, and his attention had been preoccupied by something that was — in his opinion — easily more important. So, the question was: would it be better to withhold information from Rarity, or tell her what had happened? He would probably have to tell one of the princesses about the situation with Chrysalis, at the very least, if he wanted a decent chance of helping both sides out. However, he had no idea how any pony would respond to it, and he didn't know if Rarity would end up being a help or a hindrance as far as that was concerned.

Because he had taken too long to reply, Rarity narrowed her eyes and asked, "You weren't mistreated by anypony, were you?"

"Er..." Marshall temporized, since he had been backed into a figurative corner. After all, if he lied, Rarity would probably know it. Whether he did or not, though, he wouldn't be able to avoid telling her about Chrysalis, since she was largely responsible for the state of his appearance. When Rarity began to approach him, after putting her work down and setting her glasses aside, he sighed with resignation and said, "I guess I was?"

Rarity sidled up beside him and laid a foreleg over his withers in a comforting fashion, which was at odds with the threatening undercurrent in her voice as she asked, "Who was it?"

Marshall looked away from the hardened expression on her face. While he could appreciate her support, at the same time it made him apprehensive, since any animosity directed toward the one responsible for his unkempt appearance was unlikely to make what he hoped to accomplish any easier to do. When he couldn't think of a way to excuse the perpetrator's actions without Rarity assuming — correctly, to a limited extent — that he did it because he was scared and/or being threatened, he sighed and simply stated, "It was Chrysalis."

When Rarity didn't reply right away, he looked back at her and was able to tell that she was still mentally working over what he had said. His intuition — thanks to his connection with Rarity — told him that was primarily due to both worry and disbelief, which probably meant that she knew about Chrysalis. That was soon verified when she backed away from him slowly while silently scrutinizing him with suspicion. He didn't know what to say or do to convince her that he was himself, so he anxiously waited to see what she would do next.

Fortunately, she had correctly deduced enough about the situation to meet his eyes and ask a probing question. "What happened?"

Relieved that he had a chance to explain what had happened, Marshall did just that: he told her how he had been lured into a cellar, how he had been able to return to his body while under duress, and how that had saved him from becoming Chrysalis' puppet. Of course, he couldn't leave out the part where he had chosen to return to Recherché's body, and had to explain his reasoning for doing so — not that Rarity was made any less unhappy to hear it. Then he got to the part of the story where he got into a conversation with Chrysalis, but he was interrupted before he could elaborate on what they had talked about.

"You two... talked?" Rarity asked, as she regarded him with an incredulous expression on her face.

Now that Marshall was certain that Rarity not only knew about Chrysalis, but probably knew the changeling queen better than he did, he rubbed the back of his neck and modestly replied, "More or less..."

There was a moment of silence before Rarity came to a belated realization, which inspired her to stand on her hind legs and cup her cheeks with her forehooves as she frightfully exclaimed, "Chrysalis is in Ponyville! This is terrible!"

Before Marshall knew what was happening, he found himself being levitated by his own magic and pulled along by Rarity, who had already raced out of the room by the time that he was able to say something, in an attempt to try and defuse the situation. "Um... She's probably already gone, to avoid getting caught."

"That's what she would want you to think!" Rarity responded, as she continued to race onward with a determined expression on her face.

Marshall sighed at his lack of success and wondered what he could do as she carried him out the front door of her home, where she set a course for Twilight Sparkle's castle. He tried to think of a solution, but he was quickly distracted by the spectacle that Rarity was creating as she hurried through a more populated area of Ponyville, since the amount of attention that he was attracting was embarrassing.

Not knowing what else to do, he ended up smiling weakly and waving awkwardly at some ponies in passing. While he could relinquish his hold over himself, which he was certainly tempted to do, he wanted to avoid getting into a fight with Rarity. For the most part, it was because he didn't care much for such confrontations, and figured that he should hear more about Chrysalis before establishing his stance on the matter. In the back of his mind, though, there was also a fear that being at odds with his benefactors could cut his time as an inter-dimensional traveler short.

When Twilight Sparkle's castle began to loom ahead, he resigned himself to appealing to the owner of said castle, who might give him a chance to disclose what had been talked about before she committed herself to taking any action. However, if Chrysalis turned out to be a lot worse than she had presented herself to be, then he would likely yield to Twilight Sparkle's ruling, since she probably knew better than he did on the matter.

As they passed by the house that he had been in earlier, neither noticed the slight shift from the uppermost portion of its chimney.
> Chapter 14: The Royal Road
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity rushed into the main hall of Twilight Sparkle's castle and failed to register Spike's presence as she dashed by him, who stopped in mid-greeting and looked both confused and disappointed before he went back to sweeping the floor. Marshall waited patiently while she looked for the owner of the castle, which started with the library. When she found the library lacking her quarry, she made her next destination the princess' bedroom, which also turned out to be unoccupied.

After checking what Marshall thought might be a throne room, with the brief look that he had been afforded of it, he suggested, "Maybe she went out somewhere."

Whether Rarity acknowledged his words or not, she checked a few more places before she returned to the main hall, with the intent of leaving the castle. Fortunately, she spotted Twilight Sparkle when she got there, the saddlebag that she was wearing giving her an idea of where she had been. She appeared to be having a conversation with Spike, who noticed her and remarked, "Oh, there she is."

Rarity rushed over to join them, but she was so out of breath from all of the running around that she had been doing that she could only get a single word out between each intake of breath as she huskily exclaimed, "Changelings...! Ponyville...! Worst...! Possible...! Thing...!"

Twilight Sparkle looked at her with a nonplussed expression on her face, partly because she had just returned from a seemingly-ordinary town and knew that Rarity could be over-dramatic about things on occasion. "Say what, now?"

Marshall chose that moment to lower himself to the floor and cut off his magic, so he could take advantage of Rarity's winded state. "Well, I kinda ended up having a conversation with Chrysalis."

"...You did?" Twilight Sparkle replied, who seemed torn between disbelief and worry. Pointing toward Rarity, she added, "Is that why...?"

With a shake of his head, Marshall said, "I didn't get a chance to tell her what we talked about."

Since Rarity was short on breath, she gave a look that asked, "Can you blame me," to Twilight Sparkle when said pony returned her attention to her. So, it was with a serious expression on her face that Twilight Sparkle glanced between Rarity and Marshall and stated, "Okay, as worried as I am about Chrysalis being here, I'd like to know what happened before deciding anything."

Before she could suggest going to the dining room to sit, for Rarity's sake, Spike — who had run off unnoticed — pushed a chaise longue beside the mare in question and announced, "Here's a couch, Rarity!"

"Thank you... darling," Rarity breathlessly replied, who planted a kiss on the young dragon's forehead before throwing herself upon the chaise longue in a somewhat melodramatic fashion.

Due to Marshall being distracted by the sight of Spike being turned into a figurative pile of mush by Rarity's gesture, he was a little startled when Twilight Sparkle spoke again, asking him to tell her what his conversation with Chrysalis had been about. "Uh... Well, I should probably start by saying that speaking to me hadn't been her original plan."

With that said, he began relating what he had to Rarity before addressing the most relevant portion of his conversation with Chrysalis, which was everything save what he had learned about the changelings before he had parted ways with her, since it wasn't pertinent enough. Soon after he had started, Twilight Sparkle asked him to recount as many details about his encounter as he could remember, in the hope that she could build a clearer picture of the situation beyond mere words. However, even with the additional context, she still ended up pacing back and forth with indecision once he could think of nothing else to say about the incident.

Eventually, after a span of silence that was only occupied by the sound of Twilight Sparkle's hoofsteps, Rarity propped herself up on one foreleg and spoke up with a measure of exasperation, saying, "Really, what is there to think about? Who's to say that they won't just turn around and attack us once we've fed them enough?"

Twilight Sparkle stopped pacing and worrying her lip as she turned to gaze at Rarity. "I know. We saw how much power Chrysalis gained from my brother alone." Switching gears, she added, "But, even with that much feeding, my brother was relatively unharmed. That, and she had every opportunity to," she paused, her expression being soured by the idea that she was about to convey, "dispose of Cadence, but hadn't." Her gaze shifted toward Marshall, even as he began to wonder about the event being referred to. "While that doesn't mean that I can trust Chrysalis, between that and knowing that changelings need to feed on love to survive, I don't think we should dismiss the possibility of reaching a peaceful resolution with her."

"And just how, precisely, would we go about accomplishing that?" Rarity posed the question that couldn't be left unaddressed.

No one had an answer for it, so a silence fell upon them until Spike raised a claw, with the equivalent of its index finger pointing skyward, and eagerly suggested, "Why don't we feed them until they're stuffed? I know when I eat a lot, I don't want to move or do anything." He wilted under the gazes of Twilight Sparkle and Rarity, who looked at him as if they were expecting him to be serious, even though — unbeknownst to them — he was. "No, huh..."

While Marshall hadn't taken Spike's suggestion seriously either, something about it had made him pause and dwell on it. When he realized what it was, he was almost too embarrassed to mention it, since the idea seemed kind of naive. However, considering his current company and what he knew about the world thus far, as well as — to a lesser extent — not having to worry about anyone who might make fun of him for a perceived relinquishment of masculinity, he was able to suppress his irrational feelings on the matter and share what was on his mind.

"I think Spike was on the right track," he began, due to the young dragon's look of disappointment stirring up some sympathy for him.

"I was?" Spike responded with mild surprise.

Marshall proceeded to direct his attention to Rarity, who he figured would be the most likely to understand and accept his idea. "Perhaps some generosity is what the changelings need. For all that we know, taking is all they've ever known, so maybe we should try giving them some love willingly and see how they react to it."

He could tell that Rarity wasn't wholly convinced, and didn't appreciate his underhanded approach all that much, but she grudgingly said, "I'll admit that there's some merit to the idea, but who would be able to express genuine love toward them?"

Once it was clear that no one had an answer to that, Twilight Sparkle opted to address another pressing issue. "I also can't imagine how we're going to feed all of the changelings, whether we can convince enough ponies to feed them or not."

"...I might have an answer for that," Marshall offered with a lack of confidence, now that his idea was actually going to be scrutinized to see if it would be feasible or not.

"What is it?" Twilight Sparkle prompted, in reaction to his uncertainty.

"Well," Marshall awkwardly began, due to feeling self-conscious about what he had to offer, "I was thinking that their shape-shifting ability would be really useful for acting in films. And, um... Since I'm assuming that ponies might not like the idea of being around changelings, at least at first, this should limit direct exposure to them."

Rarity hummed thoughtfully as she considered his idea from the angle that she was most familiar with. "Yes, I do suppose that they would be well-suited for that sort of profession... But, I imagine that there will be an issue with coming up with material, creating sets, and finding — as well as building — venues to show their films."

"How will the changelings be fed, exactly?" Twilight Sparkle wondered, as she mulled over the idea. "Will a clerk ask for love instead of tickets? Or would an usher do that after the film is over?"

Marshall shrugged his shoulders, since he was at a loss on that front. "I honestly don't know, but that would require a lot of changelings to be at the cinemas, since they can't project love like ponies can."

"They can't?" Came Twilight Sparkle's rhetorical response. Then something occurred to her, which inspired her to stare at Marshall questioningly and add, "Hold on... How do you know that?"

Marshall rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Oh, well, I asked if there was anything that I needed to know about changelings before I left, to help me figure out a way to help them." Realizing how that sounded a bit too late, he hastily elaborated, "Without it being at anyone's expense, of course!"

After accepting his answer, Twilight Sparkle rubbed her chin and looked askance in thought. "I see. That means they can't share love among themselves, whether they feel it or take it from someone else..." Her expression turned sympathetic. "Without being able to distribute their food, it must take an amazing amount of restraint to make sure that every changeling is fed without arousing any suspicions about their presence."

"Which is assuming that Chrysalis was being honest," Rarity pointed out.

Twilight Sparkle nodded her head in agreement. "That's true, although — in this case — I think she is."

With a skeptical expression on her face, Rarity inquired, "How can you tell?"

"Do you remember when she... overpowered Princess Celestia?" Twilight Sparkle asked in turn, the memory still poignant enough to make it somewhat difficult to speak about.

"Of course," Rarity replied evenly. "I doubt I'll ever forget it."

"Chrysalis was genuinely surprised that she had enough power to do that," Twilight Sparkle revealed. "If what she told Recherché was true, about how difficult it is for changelings to find enough love to survive on, then it would make sense for her to be unaware of how much power she can attain from feeding on it, which is something that she should have a lot of experience with."

While Rarity acknowledged that Twilight Sparkle could be right about her conjecture, Marshall stood by silently, wondering where things would go. He had figured that the situation would probably be much bigger than him from the start, and that Chrysalis could have committed deeds of a reprehensible nature, but he couldn't have guessed that attacking one of the princesses had been among her exploits, in addition to feeding on the brother of another. There had also been something done to a "Cadence," whoever they happened to be.

After Twilight Sparkle contemplated the matter a bit further, she got the discussion back on track by saying, "Anyway, aside from feeding changelings directly at the cinemas, I have to wonder if our projected feelings can reach them, either through the characters they play as or the film itself. If they can, then this idea might just be perfect."

"And if they can't?" Rarity asked, since someone had to.

Twilight Sparkle frowned thoughtfully. "Well, even if the whole idea doesn't work out, I'm confident that we can come up with a solution."

"Um," Marshall diffidently spoke up, in order to get the others' attention. "I still don't know much about how magic works, but talking about projecting an emotion reminded me of how electricity is being distributed to the town from the dam, and how Spike delivers letters, so I was wondering if anything like that could be applied here."

Twilight Sparkle blinked her eyes owlishly in response to her thought processes being introduced to what was being suggested, and her mind quickly considered the relevant spells that she could remember offhand. After a few seconds of pondering, her thoughtful expression transitioned to one of realization, which was quickly replaced by delight as she offered Marshall a smile and said, "Now that you mention it, I think I know exactly what would allow the changelings to have the convenience of distributing love among themselves."

Rarity chose that time to leave the comfort of the chaise longue and spoke with a tone that suggested that she still had some reservations about the whole thing. "I take it that we're going to give the changelings a chance, then?"

After considering her reply for a moment, Twilight Sparkle shook her head. "I don't think that's a decision that we should make on our own. That, and the fact of the matter is that we have no reason to trust Chrysalis, so it would be more prudent to have the other princesses involved regardless of what is decided."

Turning her attention to Spike, she passed her saddlebag over to him and said, "Spike, can you please retrieve a quill and some parchment? I'll be waiting for you on the balcony."

"On it!" Spike dutifully declared, before hurrying to put the saddlebag away and acquire the aforementioned items.

Shortly after Twilight Sparkle began to lead Rarity and Marshall to their destination, the former of the two inquired, "Why are we going to the balcony?"

Twilight Sparkle looked over her shoulder and established eye contact with Rarity before she replied, saying, "It's hardly ideal, but I want to keep an eye on the town, in case Chrysalis tries to pull something while we're preoccupied."

A few steps later, Marshall could no longer contain his curiosity. "So, uh... It seems like you guys have a past with Chrysalis. What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"She had the nerve to interrupt a royal wedding," Rarity unhappily recalled.

Twilight Sparkle looked at her with half-lidded eyes and dryly added, "Only because she wanted to conquer Equestria."

"That, too," Rarity breezily acknowledged.

From there, they proceeded to tell Marshall about their experiences with Chrysalis and the changelings in more detail. As interesting as it was, though, he kept himself focused and listened carefully, since he had gotten himself involved with the subject matter and what he knew about the changelings was still limited. While he didn't find out too much more about them, he did learn that Cadence was another alicorn princess, and Twilight Sparkle's former foalsitter. She now ruled a place called the Crystal Empire, alongside Twilight Sparkle's older brother, Shining Armor.

When they made it to the balcony, Twilight Sparkle raised the front of her body over its lip and rested on it with her forelegs crossed. Rarity followed her example, and a second later Marshall — after briefly wondering if he should do the same — joined them. They proceeded to watch over Ponyville in silence while a light breeze stirred the fringes of their hair, whispered past their ears, and carried a pleasant scent to their noses. The relaxing atmosphere made Marshall forget about the situation for a moment, and wish that he could find a place like Ponyville to live, back on his own world.

"Yeah," Twilight Sparkle agreed, sighing fondly. "I really love this place."

It took Marshall a second to realize that he had expressed his thoughts aloud. When he did, he felt embarrassed and turned his head away from the others, so they couldn't see his face. After a moment passed in silence, he snuck a peek to see what was going on and saw that their attention was still on the town, not him. However, while Twilight Sparkle looked upon it with a soft smile, Rarity's expression was hard to discern. Without meaning to, he got a sense of what she was feeling, but he couldn't make heads or tails of that either.

Before he could really think about it, Spike jogged onto the scene with quill and parchment in claw and declared, "I'm ready, Twilight!"

While Twilight Sparkle lowered herself from the balcony's lip and focused on dictating an overly-detailed letter to Princess Celestia, Marshall began to shift his attention between her, Spike, Rarity and Ponyville, split between wanting to be aware of what the letter's contents would be, curiosity over what Rarity's thoughts may have been as she maintained a steadfast vigil, and keeping an eye on the town himself. Once he gave up on trying to figure out what was up with Rarity, and decided that it wouldn't be a good time or place to ask about it, he chose to follow Rarity's example while sparing enough of his attention to comprehend what Twilight Sparkle was saying.

After the letter was sent, it was just a matter of waiting for a response. He wondered how long it would take since Celestia would have to share the message with her sister, Luna, before forwarding the letter itself to Cadence and Shining Armor, then wait for a response from them before Twilight Sparkle would hear back from her. Hopefully, whatever the reply would end up being, it would lead to a peaceful resolution with the changelings.

He turned to look over at Twilight Sparkle when he noticed her returning to her spot on the lip of the balcony out of the corner of his eye. Although he wasn't feeling too anxious about the situation, enough of it must have been evident on his face: because she turned apologetic after their gazes happened to meet and said, "I'm sorry that you ended up getting involved in something like this."

"Don't worry about it," Marshall tried to dismiss her concern as casually as possible, and turned his head away to prevent the expression on his face from having a chance of belying his words. "Besides, if this didn't happen, who knows what the changelings would have done in the future, right?"

Grudgingly, Twilight Sparkle hummed in agreement before she turned her gaze to Ponyville and began to ponder the possibilities. At least, that's what Marshall assumed she was doing, based on the expression that was on her face. He couldn't help thinking about it himself, considering what could be accomplished by a race that had a special talent for concealing their presence. Shape-shifting made it possible for them to observe their target covertly, to learn their habits, daily routines and secrets, then use what they learned when the opportunity presented itself — whatever that happened to be. If they were well-informed, had the element of surprise, and chose the battlefield, what couldn't they do with an adequate plan and numbers?

The idea was kind of scary to think about, so he tried to occupy his mind with something else. He didn't have much success with that, however, since his thoughts almost immediately drifted toward Chrysalis. If not for having his human body to return to, he probably would have dreaded ever seeing her again — not that he would ever admit that to anyone. As things stood, he still felt hesitant to do it, partly because he wasn't sure if he would be able to project love toward anyone, much less the queen of the changelings. At first, he had been inspired to mention the idea to help get Rarity on board with giving the changelings a chance, since it otherwise sounded like something that would only work in a cartoon aimed toward young children, but now he was beginning to feel as if that idea actually had to be realized to avoid a conflict.

He felt something gently being placed over his left foreleg, just above the hoof, and saw an identical limb covering his when he glanced down. When he looked toward its owner, Rarity offered him a reassuring smile that said, "Everything will be okay." Touched by the gesture, he returned her smile and gave her foreleg a squeeze in gratitude.

After that, he was able to pass the time by watching the activities of Ponyville. It wasn't something that he normally did, but — then again — it wasn't like he'd had much in the way of opportunities to find a place that was worth observing before coming to this world. While it wasn't quite like his habit of setting some time aside for the sole purpose of listening to music, it did have a bit of a cleansing effect, although he attributed most of that to his current company.

He wasn't sure how long it was before their quiet observation of Ponyville was interrupted, but it came in the form of a flash of light that was accompanied by a strange — yet familiar — bang sound that had a muffled quality to it. When he looked over his shoulder to investigate its source, he was shocked by who he assumed was now standing in the middle of the balcony: Princess Celestia. However, it wasn't her presence that shocked him, but seeing certain aspects of her appearance, whose descriptions hadn't done them any justice. Her multi-hued hair in particular, which undulated gently in a breeze that was separate from the one that played with his own hair, was simply magical. That, along with her stature, regal bearing and regalia, made for a stunning figure.

It was the first time, he realized, that he found a pony from this world attractive. Not in the sense that he might want to pursue an intimate relationship, or saw other ponies as being unattractive by comparison: it was simply in a way that he could distinctly appreciate. Above all else, though, there was a gentleness about Celestia's countenance that tantalized a part of himself that was malnourished, and had been for a long time.

"Princess Celestia!" Twilight Sparkle and Rarity simultaneously exclaimed, with a measure of surprise. While Twilight Sparkle trotted up to the aforementioned princess casually, where she was joined by Spike, Rarity prostrated herself before her.

When it finally occurred to Marshall that he was staring like an idiot, he scrambled away from the balcony's lip and joined Rarity, doing his best to imitate her pose. It felt kind of odd to do it so readily, considering how he had been born and raised in a democracy, but he was in a different world and country, and Celestia had yet to give him any reason to find such an act objectionable. Besides which, unlike with the ever casual, modest and down-to-earth Twilight Sparkle, Celestia not only looked like a princess, but commanded an aura of one as well.

"Why did you come here?" Twilight Sparkle asked of Celestia, since she didn't know what her presence meant. "Will the others be arriving, too?"

Celestia shook her head faintly, and Marshall's ears perked up on their own when he heard her speak for the first time, as she addressed the second question first. "Luna will be assuming some of my responsibilities until I return, and Cadence does not wish to teleport while she is with foal. However, while she and Shining Armor have their concerns, they have placed their faith in our judgement." She spared Marshall a glance, who had followed Rarity's example again and stood upright once more. "And I am here because I wish to speak with Chrysalis in person, should we choose to negotiate a peaceful resolution."

Twilight Sparkle wanted to feel more secure in her answer when she replied to Celestia's unspoken question, so she looked around to see if anyone had anything to say. When, "It's your call," pretty much summed up what was silently conveyed to her, she looked back up at Celestia and resolutely said, "I think it's worth giving it a try. If things don't work out, at least we can say that we did that much."

With a soft smile and a single nod of her head, Celestia replied, "I agree." Turning her gaze toward Marshall, whose body went rigid under her scrutiny, she casually asked, "Recherché, did Chrysalis provide you with a means of contacting her?"

After taking a calming breath, which was aided by the relaxed way that Celestia conducted herself, Marshall said, "Um, yeah. She said that she would leave someone in the house where we had, er... met."

Turning to address Twilight Sparkle, Rarity asked, "Shall we go and assemble the others, then?"

Before Twilight Sparkle could reply, Celestia interjected, "That won't be necessary."

"It won't?" Twilight Sparkle voiced her confusion.

Celestia shook her head. "We risk sending the wrong message if we seek Chrysalis out with strength in numbers. For this undertaking, we should only allow the bare minimum to go: Recherché, who is the contact that they would be expecting; and myself, as the emissary." She focused on Marshall once more and conveyed her willingness to respect whatever his decision may be on the matter with her facial expression. "That is: if you are willing, of course."

Marshall would have been willing even without Celestia's deference toward his wishes, since he had already planned on contacting Chrysalis should he ever come up with a good way to help her, so he simply nodded his head. Ultimately, he just hoped that he wasn't putting too much faith in his ability to return to his real body whenever circumstances inspired the need.

With evident concern on her face, Rarity asked, "Are you sure, dear?"

"I'll be fine," Marshall tried to reassure her.

Seeing that Twilight Sparkle appeared to be concerned by the arrangement as well, and appeared ready to express it, Celestia spoke up and said, "I understand your concern, but it must be done this way if we want our intentions to be both apparent and sincere."

While Twilight Sparkle respected Celestia more than enough to trust her judgement, she cared about her more, so it was with resignation that she chose to ask, "But what if something goes wrong?"

Celestia lowered her head so she could respond to Twilight Sparkle in a conspiratorial fashion, yet didn't speak so quietly that no one else would be able to hear her when she blithely said, "As it turns out, I have very dependable friends."

Marshall watched as the expression on Twilight Sparkle's face turned comical, due to being unable to settle between two responses: a bashful smile, from the compliment, and an unhappy pout, since her question hadn't been answered with enough seriousness. Had the circumstances been different, he might have chuckled or made a lighthearted comment about it. Aside from that, Celestia's response had given him some insight regarding her character, which helped him to feel more relaxed in her presence.

After Celestia raised her head, she regarded Marshall and casually asked, "Now, then: are you ready, Recherché?"

"As I'll ever be," Marshall calmly replied, which took a little effort.

Celestia proceeded to lead the group back into the castle proper, inviting Marshall to walk beside her as they headed toward the main entrance. Shortly thereafter, once she adjusted her pace to his, it was with an apologetic tone that she stated, "I regret that we could not meet under better circumstances."

Between the good things outweighing the bad, and having plenty of experience with accepting the bad with the good, Marshall could honestly say, "It'd be strange if everything was perfect, anyway."

"I suppose it would," came Celestia's lighthearted response, as she gazed down at Marshall with a smile. "Have you enjoyed your time here otherwise?"

Marshall spared a moment to look up at Celestia, instead of where he was going. "I was overwhelmed at first," he glanced at Rarity, Twilight Sparkle and Spike out of the corner of his eye, who were paying attention to their conversation while they followed along, "but, yeah, it's been pretty enjoyable. I'm already sure that I'm going to miss coming here."

Celestia simply acknowledged Marshall's answer with a hum, partly so as not to undermine his feelings with any of the self-satisfaction that she felt, but mostly because she wanted to use his answer as a springboard to another question that she had on her mind. "I've heard that your species is one with many nations. If you don't mind me asking: does that division play any role in how you feel about your experience with Equestria thus far?"

It took Marshall a few seconds to figure out that she was referring to the root cause of the aforementioned division, which would inspire more than the creation of invisible borders between groups of people. Considering the seriousness of the subject, he decided to be honest, partly because Celestia seemed like someone that he could trust. "...Maybe a little?" He paused, furrowed his brow, and thought about his answer some more before he continued. "I mean, not many people would agree that the state of things are all that great, but we generally get used to it. So, for the most part, it's getting to experience new things that I like the most; especially the things that don't seem to be possible in my universe." He looked over his shoulder and smiled self-consciously at Twilight Sparkle and Rarity, since he didn't normally express what he was about to in such a direct manner, or in person, that often. "The company isn't all that bad, either. Honestly, I'll probably enjoy that aspect more once the novelty of everything else has worn off."

Celestia chuckled good-naturedly as the aforementioned company that Marshall had been referring to returned his smile, due — in no small part — to Twilight Sparkle's smile being accompanied by a slight blush. "I appreciate your candidness, Recherché." With the niceties out of the way, she became more somber and returned her attention to the situation at hand. "Now, what do any of you know about love?"

Rarity, Twilight Sparkle and Marshall glanced searchingly between each other, wondering if anyone knew the desired response. It seemed like a question that would have an easy answer, but that was unlikely to be the case — given the circumstances — if Celestia had to ask. Due to their reticence, the most naive of the group, Spike, didn't hesitate to seize the opportunity to answer. "It's when you like someone a lot, right?"

"That is one way that love is expressed, yes," Celestia replied, with a slight dip of her head.

Twilight Sparkle was the first to catch the hint, who enthusiastically said, "You can also love someone platonically!"

"That's right," Celestia acknowledged.

"Inanimate objects can be loved as well," Rarity confidently stated.

"Yes, they can," Celestia agreed.

When Marshall couldn't immediately think of anything to follow up their answers with, everyone sans Celestia looked at him expectantly, hoping that he had thought of something that they hadn't. All that served to do was make him uncomfortable, which wasn't all that conducive toward critical thinking. "W-what? Is there anything else?"

Celestia smiled with amusement, and seized the others' attention when she said, "There are many things to know about love. In terms of where it can be directed, for instance, there is still yourself and the abstract." She gave her audience a moment to absorb that before she continued. "Beyond that, love can be selfless or selfish, shallow or deep, fleeting or timeless, spontaneous or deliberate, healthy or unhealthy."

Her smile faded as her gaze swept across the group, making sure that she caught everyone's attention in case her prior words had proved too distracting for what she had to say next. "If we plan to establish and sustain a relationship with the changelings, it will be important to understand the boundaries and intricacies of love, as well as discover what kind love they can partake of. Should the worst-case scenario come to pass, that knowledge may also prove vital in our defense against them."

"However," she continued, "in the case that we come to an accord with Chrysalis, it will take some time for the changelings to establish themselves in Equestria in an official capacity, so it will be vital to find those willing and capable of donating love to them until they can provide for themselves." She made eye contact with Twilight Sparkle before she finished, asking, "Can I count on you to organize a relief group that can rise to the task?"

"O-of course!" Twilight Sparkle readily responded, who tried her best to hide the doubt that came as an afterthought with the conviction that she had for living up to Celestia's expectations. "It'll be no problem at all!"

Celestia smiled with approval. "I'm glad to hear that."

The rest of the group's trip to the main entrance was spent in silence, mostly due to their thoughts being occupied by the present situation and what awaited them in the future. Upon reaching their destination, some parting words were exchanged before Celestia and Marshall broke away from the group and continued onward, toward the house that was closest to Twilight Sparkle's castle.

Once they were out of earshot of the others, Celestia asked, "Recherché, do you believe yourself capable of projecting a form of love toward Chrysalis?"

Marshall turned his attention away from Rarity, who was watching him from the open doorway with a worried expression on her face, and looked up at Celestia. "Well," he temporized, so he could think about it for a second before deciding on, "I don't know, but I can try."

Celestia accepted his answer with a nod of her head and remained silent for the remainder of their short journey. In the meantime, Marshall had to actively stop himself from looking at her, lest he ended up staring. She was just so... fascinating in general, which included how she had an air about her that made her feel approachable yet unreal at the same time. He'd had similar but weaker feelings in the past, but never toward another sapient being, and he didn't know what to do about it. With that being the case, all that he could think of to do — at that moment — was to put the matter aside for later and focus on what lay ahead of him.

It wasn't long before they were standing in front of the house, and it was with the faintest bit of hesitation that Marshall knocked on the front door. Celestia noticed it, however, and regarded him with concern as she inquired, "Are you alright?"

The attention was a bit too much for Marshall, primarily because of who it was coming from, so he returned his attention to the front door and evasively said, "I'm just not used to doing stuff like this."

Before she could reply to him, whether she would have or not, the door opened, revealing the old mare that he had seen earlier. The changeling's attention quickly shifted to the imposing figure that was Celestia, and its eyes widened even as its body noticeably stiffened.

Taking advantage of the fact that the changeling hadn't bolted, Celestia took the initiative and gently requested, "I wish to have a parley with your queen."

The changeling relaxed a bit, but it still took a while for it to gather enough of its wits to speak, but not to the extent that they maintained the manner of speech that had been employed with their disguise before. "Um... Meet me at the back door."

Without warning, the changeling shut the door in their faces. Marshall looked over at Celestia so he could take his cue from her, considering who she was in light of what had just happened. Other than being a little surprised, she seemed to take how she had been treated in stride and simply gestured for him to follow her as she began to walk around the house. As he joined her, his appraisal of her rose further, which made it a bit more difficult to avert his attention from her.

As they made their way to the back door, around the side that made them visible from Twilight Sparkle's castle, they were unaware of the activity occurring above them. From the upper half of the chimney, on the side that was facing away from other dwellings and gathering places of the town, a couple of bricks began to signal a message to a spotter by alternating their colors between white and their usual color.

The back door opened a few seconds after they reached it, and out stepped a male pegasus with a green coat, blue hair and teal eyes. Understanding what the changeling's change in form meant, Celestia turned to Marshall and said, "It appears that our meeting place is some distance away. How well did your lesson in flight go?"

Marshall perked up with excitement at what was being suggested, not really caring — for the moment — how informed she was about his activities, or how he enthusiastically responded with, "Really well!"

Celestia chuckled at his reaction before readying him for the spell that would give him wings. Unlike Twilight Sparkle's spell, however, he was lifted from the ground and the magic streamers coiled around his entire body rather than focusing on his sides. While it was a little nerve-wracking, he figured that he had no real reason to worry, so he kept himself calm and waited for the spell to finish its work.

Once the spell had run its course and he felt the ground beneath his hooves again, he looked over his shoulder to see the results. What he saw was unexpected and caused him to pause for a few seconds before he gave his new wings a tentative flap. The wings in question were translucent butterfly wings, save that they lacked veins. With the exception of the tails on the hind wings, where each bore a splotch of dark purple, the other colors, including the specks of white that were sprinkled about, were light and soft, which seemed better suited to the translucent nature of the wings. Overall, though, he could sum their appearance up with one word: girly.

When he finally pulled his focus away from his new wings, he noticed that the changeling was staring at them intently. However, when the changeling became aware of his attention, along with Celestia's, he shied away and prepared to take flight before awkwardly instructing, "Follow me."

They took to the air after the changeling, although Celestia paused long enough to make sure that Marshall wasn't having any trouble. While the butterfly wings didn't work in quite the same way as the avian variety, Marshall had little trouble feeling them out and making the adjustments needed for basic flight operations. Once the aforementioned adjustments were made, he assumed the position of a wingman to Celestia as they followed the changeling, due more to seeing the formation so often rather than thinking about the reasoning behind it.

The changeling took them to the foot of a mountain that Marshall figured was close enough to Canterlot to be within its shadow. Waiting for them between a forest and river was Chrysalis, watching their arrival with an air of confidence and arrogance. It occurred to him that it seemed kind of odd how quickly Chrysalis had been ready to receive them, regardless of the location, but he figured that Celestia knew better about such things and she didn't seem to be concerned about it.

Once they were all on the ground, with their guide standing beside Chrysalis, Celestia opened with, "I appreciate your willingness to meet with us on such short notice."

"Then I hope you won't mind getting to the point instead of wasting any more of my time with pretense," Chrysalis replied in a no-nonsense manner. "What do you want?"

If Celestia had been affected by that response, she didn't show it and maintained her civility. "Peace."

Chrysalis scoffed. "Peace? Forget it."

"...What?" Celestia replied, who was genuinely taken aback.

"You heard me," came Chrysalis' terse response.

Marshall looked between Celestia and Chrysalis, trying to comprehend the situation. He had figured that there would be some negotiation, at the very least, rather than an immediate rejection. Now he felt even more removed from his element than before, and it made him wonder if he could do anything to salvage things, or if he should even try. While his time in Equestria was limited, and thus wouldn't affect him once he was gone, he didn't like the idea of his new friends getting into a conflict with the changelings, even though they seemed capable of taking care of themselves.

After Celestia held Chrysalis' resolute gaze for a time, the expression on her face transitioned to one that reflected how she felt inside: sad and tired, but ready for whatever she would have to deal with in the future. "I see," she quietly said, before turning her attention to Marshall. "Let us return, Recherché."

When she took to the air, Marshall hesitated with indecision before doing the same, opting to follow her lead rather than look like an idiot by staying put and trying to think of a solution on the spot. However, shortly after they began to fly away, they heard Chrysalis shout, "Wait!"

Upon turning around to see why Chrysalis would call out to them as they were in the process of leaving, she was briefly consumed in a familiar green flame and assumed the same form as the changeling standing beside her. Then both changelings flew up to them so the one that had been posing as Chrysalis could tell them, "Follow us if you want to see our queen."

Celestia did so with obvious relief. Marshall, on the other hand, wasn't exactly sure about what had just happened, so he kept up with her and asked, "Was that some kind of test?"

"Yes," Celestia replied, as she turned to regard him. "As good as their intelligence network appears to be, they weren't willing to take any chances until they had a better idea of our intentions."

Marshall supposed that made enough sense, although he had to wonder if it was fair to be the only party jumping through hoops, especially — as Celestia managed to notice — if the changelings were already keeping tabs on them. He didn't wonder for long, however, because of the shame that he felt when he thought back on how unprepared and useless he had just been, even considering the fact that the situation had unfolded so quickly. He didn't even want to imagine what might have happened if they had been dealing with the real Chrysalis, or her actual feelings on the matter. So, instead, he began to think of what he could do to help their meeting with the authentic queen of the changelings, especially if she really wasn't in favor of having a peaceful relationship with Equestria. In particular, he tried to figure out how he could convey love toward Chrysalis, since he figured that Celestia wouldn't have brought it up for no reason. Unfortunately, on top of his ignorance on how to do it, he wasn't the type of person who expressed much from that part of the emotional spectrum.

The changelings guided them toward another mountain, this one not even half of the width of the other yet similar in height. There wasn't much to observe along the way, but they were eventually able to see two cities on the horizon, to the left of their destination: the closest one had a railroad track heading toward it and appeared to be modern by human standards, while the other could barely be made out beyond a forest, between only being able to see the taller buildings and being a different shade of blue than the background.

Soon they were flying over the forest at the base of the mountain, and not long after that they descended through a hole in the canopy. Within the clearing that they landed in was a single building, a wooden table with benches, and several changelings, who were either standing about, sitting at the table, or guarding the doorless entrance of the building. Said building was of a simple construction, consisting of mortarless walls made of large, stone bricks, and wooden planks that functioned as a roof.

Of course, by the time that they had landed, they drew the eye of every changeling present. Marshall did his best to ignore it as their guides gestured for him and Celestia to enter the building, along with the more intimidating guards as they passed them by, who — unlike the others — wore armor. The inside of the building was dimly illuminated by the light that entered through the doorway, which was just enough to make out barely more than Chrysalis' eyes in the gloom, who stood at the back of the room, where it was darkest. Nothing else seemed to be inside, and he could still feel the relatively soft ground beneath his hooves, instead of a foundation or floor for the building.

Chrysalis chuckled as she turned her amused, half-lidded gaze away from Marshall's wings and toward Celestia. "When I humored our little friend here, I was prepared to delay my plans if he revealed my presence, or execute them if he kept silent long enough, but this?" Celestia and Marshall saw the white of her teeth show in the dark, making evident the predatory nature of her smile. "Making yourself appear brave to your subjects by going into the enemy's den, when — in reality — you fear me so much that you've come to beg for mercy, knowing that I'll defeat you again otherwise."

Celestia was stoic as she returned Chrysalis' smile with a hard stare. "That you are able to do anything now is because of my mercy."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" Chrysalis sneered. "Your kingdom was practically within my grasp after I neutralized what I thought to be my only obstacles. Don't think that I will make the same mistake twice."

Marshall watched the exchange anxiously, with wide eyes, his vision having adjusted enough to the dark to make out Chrysalis' body, who began to slowly step to the side in a stalking manner. He didn't like where things were going at all, but didn't know what he could say to improve the situation, and the pounding of blood in his ears wasn't helping his concentration. So, he closed his eyes and focused with all of his might, hoping that love would somehow make a difference. Hopefully The Beatles were right about love being the only thing that one needed — in this situation, at least.

Celestia shook her head sadly. "You didn't find it odd that a shield was erected against an unspecified threat? Or notice that it just so happened to repel changelings alone?" That caused Chrysalis to pause, though her thoughts weren't betrayed beyond that. "I was well aware of your activities. The shield was there to dissuade you, because until then you had co-existed with my little ponies without disrupting their lives, but had become more bold over time. Even without the benefit of the doubt, I never would have thought that you would have reached so high, and accomplished it in a way that I had been so sure was an impossibility."

Chrysalis released a derisive snort. "So, what, you underestimated me, and now you expect me to be concerned about you taking me seriously?"

"Imagine," Celestia evenly began, with a clear undercurrent of minacity, "the spell that I had taught to my former captain of the royal guard, made available to the public. It has been adjusted to burst outward, in the same manner that ejected you from Canterlot, and its widespread use is mandated by royal decree. Imagine never being able to keep your hooks in any Equestrian community ever again, when the spell is used in response to the slightest suspicion of a changeling's presence."

Her body rigid and eyes narrowed, Chrysalis hissed, "You spoke of mercy, yet you would go so far as to cast us into a famine?"

"If I must," Celestia calmly stated.

Both leaders silently stared into the other's eyes for a long moment before Chrysalis deliberately asked, "Let's assume that I'm willing to abandon my current plans for another arrangement. What are you offering?"

Relaxing somewhat, Celestia said, "Integration into Equestrian society and securing an ample supply of food, with the support of the government. If you hold land outside of Equestria, you will retain the right to keep it as its sovereign ruler. However, I'm willing to grant you some land within our borders in addition to that, and you will be recognized as having the same authority there as you would in your native land, so long as it isn't abused."

Chrysalis regarded Celestia with suspicion. "That sounds a lot more accommodating than I'd expect from someone who doesn't consider me a threat. What's the catch?"

"Aside from friendship?" Came Celestia's rhetorical response, before simply adding, "Nothing."

Becoming angry, Chrysalis growled, "Do you take me for a fool? Nobody would go so far out of their way for friendship, especially with a history like ours between them."

Celestia was quiet for a moment, her eyes closed as she contemplated her answer, before she reopened them and softly said, "I simply don't wish to see the past repeat itself. My sister once felt that she wasn't receiving enough love, especially compared to myself. Her need for it became so great that she came to think of me as her main obstacle, and in doing so she gave into her resentment, turning into a monster." After a short pause to read Chrysalis' expression, who had noticeably calmed down, she continued. "So, I desire a future where you receive the love you need, and all involved benefit from it."

Rather than make any remark regarding Celestia's sister, Chrysalis wisely chose another, more relevant and sensible topic to launch her argument from. "And how, exactly, do you plan to feed us all? I imagine that you won't accept it if your ponies are fed on without their consent or knowledge, and I highly doubt that they would willing—"

Marshall opened his eyes to see if his latest attempt at projecting love had worked. It hadn't been easy, between focusing on that and listening to what was being said at the same time, but he thought that he had managed it well enough. Considering how Chrysalis had paused abruptly and stared at him with a modicum of surprise when he had focused on a mix of thoughts that inspired sympathy and empathy, with said thoughts producing more the former than the latter, he could only assume that he had succeeded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Celestia regarding him with a warm, approving smile before turning her attention to Chrysalis and closing her eyes. A few seconds later, the changeling queen's body jolted as if physically struck, and he caught a glimpse of her face before she hastily whirled around to hide it from them. What he saw was rather mixed and hard to discern, but he was pretty certain that he had seen confusion there, at the very least. Another distinguishable emotion seemed to be fear, but he wasn't sure if that was the case, considering the strength of Chrysalis's character up until that point.

As soon as she had her back facing them, she desperately shouted, "Disperse and leave the area!"

Following her order, the world around Celestia and Marshall became alight with green flames, which startled them both. In the wake of the flames, much to their surprise, remained changelings, who quickly scattered to the four winds, leaving them alone with Chrysalis. Marshall squinted against the sunlight as he looked around, and not only did he not see any changelings in the clearing, but the table and benches had vanished along with the house.

Before they could fully digest the fact that changelings could become inanimate objects, and everything that could imply, Chrysalis began to speak in a tightly-controlled manner. "I will bring one-hundred changelings to that eyesore of a castle tomorrow afternoon. If you can feed all of them adequately enough, as they are, I will listen to your proposal in more detail."

Then, without warning, she took to the air and quickly disappeared behind the canopy. Not knowing what to make of that, Marshall turned to Celestia and asked, "Was that... good?"

With her attention still focused on where Chrysalis had gone, Celestia said, "Yes. She's giving herself some time to think. It's not much progress, but it's a start." She looked down at Marshall and regarded him with a smile. "Good timing, by the way."

Marshall looked away bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, thanks. It took a few attempts, though."

Celestia acknowledged his modest answer with a nod of her head. "Let's head back, Recherché. We have several worried friends to bring relief to, and I imagine that we have much in the way of work ahead of us as well."

With that said, they proceeded to fly back to Ponyville. Along the way, after Marshall was able to put recent events out of his mind for the time being, he felt bold enough to ask Celestia a question before the opportunity was lost. "Princess Celestia?" Once he had her attention, he inquired, "Can you really move the sun?"

"I can," Celestia casually claimed. "Is that not how the cycle of day and night works where you are from?"

Marshall shook his head. "Everything moves on its own."

After a moment of contemplation, Celestia smiled slightly and looked at Marshall with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I usually don't allow deviations under normal circumstances, but I'm willing to make an exception. Look toward the horizon at sunset, and you'll get your answer after the sun dips below it."
> Chapter 15: Quality Time
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Celestia and Marshall reached the outskirts of Ponyville, the former thought it safe enough to part ways with the latter. Before she did, she gave Marshall the task of updating Twilight Sparkle on the situation, since she would be addressing the matter with her sister and the rulers of the Crystal Empire.

After she left, Marshall continued to hover in place, in order to have a moment to regain his equilibrium while he had some time to himself. He was fairly proud of how he had handled everything that had happened in the past few hours, all things considered, but he still found it difficult to believe that he had been involved in such events at all. That included his experience with Celestia and her larger-than-life presence, whose absence he felt rather keenly.

He was determined to be helpful and engaged, however, so he regained his focus on the present with a shake of his head and set his sights on Twilight Sparkle's castle, since he had a request to fulfill and figured that was the best place to start looking for his quarry. When he got close enough to see the front door, he saw a white figure pacing back and forth in front of it. Said figure soon resolved itself into Rarity, who ceased her pacing and hurried to meet him at the base of the steps when she noticed him.

Before he could settle his hooves on the ground, she looked him over with evident concern and asked him, "How did everything go?"

As touching as her concern was, he decided to allay it so he could address his own concern. "As good as it could have gone, I guess." Not wanting her to have a window to follow up on her question, he quickly added, "You haven't been here the whole time, have you?"

Rarity paused, perhaps due to the question being unexpected. "Yes, I have. Why do you ask?"

With a sigh, Marshall looked off to the side and said, "It's just that I've yet to help you for an entire shift yet, and now you're losing your own time."

"Oh, you're worried about that?" Was Rarity's initial response, which came off a bit more dismissive than she had intended. Partly to make up for that, and because she appreciated the importance that he placed on their working relationship, she sidled up alongside him and gave him a one-legged hug. "While I'm grateful for the sentiment, we shouldn't lose sight of what's more important."

"Speaking of which," she continued, as she disengaged from the hug and gave Marshall an expectant look, "what happened with Chrysalis?"

Marshall rubbed the back of his neck and said, "We got our foot in the door... I guess? Chrysalis said she'll listen to our proposals if we can feed a hundred changelings to her satisfaction."

Rarity's eyes widened upon hearing that. "A hundred changelings?" Her expression quickly turned to one of worry. "When is this supposed to take place?"

"Tomorrow," Marshall replied, who saw Rarity's eyes widen once again, only to a greater degree than last time. "Chrysalis said she'll bring them here in the afternoon."

"Tomorrow!?" Rarity exclaimed. "Here!? Sounds more like having the door slammed on your hoof, if you ask me!" After forcing herself to calm down, she asked, "What did Celestia think about that?"

Marshall shrugged his shoulders. "Chrysalis didn't really give her an opportunity to respond, because she left right after she made her demand, but it didn't seem to bother her."

"...It didn't?" Rarity replied, with an incredulous expression on her face.

Quirking an eyebrow at that, Marshall queried, "Do you think it should?"

"Well..." Rarity temporized, who worried her bottom lip for a moment before continuing in a more prudent manner. "Far be it from me to question the princess, but... it's hard to imagine finding enough qualified ponies on such short notice."

Marshall nodded his head and said, "Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I mean, I hardly know anyone around here, so I have no idea if fulfilling Chrysalis' request is possible or not." Wanting to be optimistic about it, as well as pay his friend a compliment, he smiled and added, "Still, you've been really kind to me, and you're the element of generosity: I bet you could feed a lot of changelings all by yourself."

Rarity smiled and said, "It's nice that you would think so, but I doubt that I could do as well as you're suggesting."

Whether it was due to his connection with Rarity, or getting better at spotting the subtleties of a cartoon pony's facial expression, Marshall noticed that the nature of her smile was a strained one. There really weren't many things that could explain the reason for it, and he still wasn't sure if he was just imagining things, so he tentatively asked, "That's not just modesty speaking, is it?"

Rarity maintained her smiling visage a bit too long for it to be natural, as she regarded him searchingly, then sighed and turned her head away from him. "I knew I wouldn't be able to keep this to myself..."

Thinking that he might have overstepped his bounds, Marshall's ears folded back as he contritely said, "Sorry, I didn't me—"

With a shake of her head, Rarity quickly interrupted with, "No; it's better that I get this out now, rather than when I'm expected to feed the changelings." She lowered her head, looked down and placed a hoof upon her chest. "As ashamed as I am to say it, I don't think I can help." She closed her eyes, and appeared to apply more pressure to her chest. "I want to give the changelings what they need, I really do, but love is the one thing that I don't have for them."

Marshall felt a pang in his chest as he watched Rarity hold herself together, who was no doubt dreading having to disappoint Celestia and her friends. While he had never been in a situation that was comparable to hers, he did have some idea of what it was like to anticipate someone's disappoint when he was sure that his help would be inadequate. So, with his thoughts racing, he reached out and placed a hoof upon her shoulder, hoping that whatever came out of his mouth would make her feel better. "Then... Um... Why not just do what you love to do?"

Rarity raised her head and looked at him questioningly, not understanding how his suggestion would make a difference, then smiled gratefully at his attempt to cheer her up. However, before she could voice said gratitude, and try to convince him that he didn't have to worry about her, he was inspired to speak further, only with much more surety and enthusiasm than before.

"Yeah!" Marshall plowed onward, inwardly relieved that a good idea had come to him after going in blind. "You could make clothes for them. I'm not sure if they can take in ambient love, or if objects can hold it, but they can definitely eat it if it's projected toward them." Seeing realization dawn on Rarity's face, he smiled encouragingly. "So, if they wear what you make for them..."

"...I'll be directing my love toward them!" Rarity finished with delight, who proceeded to embrace Marshall with enough strength to compromise his ability to breath. "Recherché, you're a lifesaver!"

All that Marshall could do was croak out something incomprehensible in reply, torn between listening to his survival instincts and not wanting to ruin Rarity's moment. Fortunately, she pulled away before things could get complicated, then cast her gaze into the distance while he rubbed at his throat, her expression turning to one of worry as she voiced her latest concern. "Oh, but will I have enough time...?"

"Don't worry," Marshall tried to reassure her. "You're not going to be alone, right? And maybe you could — I don't know — have a fashion show or something, so multiple changelings can try wearing the same thing."

Rarity stroked her chin thoughtfully and absently said, "Yes... If the aim is for me to love what I create, it will be paramount that I focus on quality instead of quantity." Her face brightened a second later, as something promising occurred to her. "Oh! With some adjustments, I suppose I could also use some of the stock that I intended to ship to my other boutique." Now anticipating the work ahead of her, she returned her attention to Marshall and enthusiastically asked, "So, are you ready to work?"

With a slight smile, Marshall readily said, "Just as soon as I update Twilight on the situation."

Pointing in the direction of the town square, Rarity helpfully supplied, "You should be able to find her at the town hall. She went there to ascertain how many ponies would be willing to have peaceful relations with changelings." After lowering her hoof, she added, "By the time you're finished attending to that, I should have everything ready for today's task."

Marshall acknowledged her intentions with a nod of his head before thanking her for the information and assuring her that he would try to not take too long. After they parted ways, he trotted toward city hall, which was tall enough for him to use as a guide. With his focus on that, however, he didn't notice that he was passing by a place both familiar and distinct until he heard Pinkie Pie call out to him.

"Recherché! Hold on a sec!"

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, where he saw Pinkie Pie already leaning over the bottom half of Sugarcube Corner's front door. Thinking that he could spare enough time to have a proper conversation, he turned about and walked up to the shop's steps before asking, "Yeah?"

"First," Pinkie Pie started, before stretching her neck across the distance that separated them, in order to give him a sidelong glance that was only an inch away from his face, "are you sure it's not 'Rushershy?'"

Marshall could only nod his head dumbly as he stared at her neck, absently wondering if anyone in a cartoon-like world could stretch their body out like that, or if it was a trait that was unique to the earth ponies of the species. He was so distracted by what he was observing that it didn't even occur to him to wonder why the question had been asked in the first place.

After her head snapped back to its natural position, Pinkie Pie continued as if nothing strange had happened, seemingly satisfied with the answer that she had received. "Anyway, what I reeeeally wanted to ask is whether or not you'd like to have a slumber party tomorrow night."

That brought Marshall out of his stupor, who regarded Pinkie Pie with confusion. "A slumber party? Why?"

"Silly," Pinkie Pie replied, who idly waved his question away as if it were a joke. "'Cause you had to leave your 'welcome to Ponyville' party early. And since parties know neither night nor day, you can still have one that's late!"

Marshall thought that wasn't a good enough reason — or reasoning — for a slumber party, largely because he was under the impression that it was something that was all but exclusive to young girls, but he chose to keep those thoughts to himself. "I dunno..."

Almost as an afterthought, as if she hadn't noticed his need to be convinced, Pinkie Pie enthusiastically said, "Oh, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for some of us ponies to sample that human-style cheesecake!"

That got Marshall's attention, whose ears perked up with more alertness even as his mouth began to water. "There's going to be cheesecake?"

"As well as all kinds of other goodies!" Pinkie Pie happily acknowledged, before adding, "Oh, and what would a slumber party be without games, right?"

"...Right," Marshall distractedly replied, as he considered whether or not it would be worth it to attend a slumber party for some cheesecake.

Pinkie Pie perked up as a thought occurred to her, which prompted her to eagerly ask, "Say, what do humans do during slumber parties?"

Aside from what he had heard about and seen being portrayed in movies, which — as far as he could recall — almost always seemed to involve the fairer sex, Marshall didn't really know what a slumber party was like, what with having never been a part of one himself. Regardless, he certainly wasn't going to mention anything about makeovers, talking about boys, romantic movies, fashion shows and the like. However, despite having yet to see a single television set, his thoughts returned to the realm of movies, since the ponies of Equestria seemed to have access to film at the very least. If they had a film projector and some movies handy, or he could use magic to project a movie from his own world, a slumber party might not be so bad.

With that last thought in mind, he opted to share one of the activities that he could readily get behind and see what the response would be. "Well, one thing we do is watch movies."

Pinkie Pie looked off to the side as she stroked her chin, intrigued by the idea. "I've never watched a movie during a slumber party before..." Apparently approving of it with a nod of her head, she refocused her attention on Marshall, threw up her forelegs at the same time as two blasts of confetti intersected in the air behind her and party horns were blown, and cheerfully declared, "Okay, our activities shall now include movie-watching!" Once her forelegs and upper body settled on the bottom half of the door again, she maintained her enthusiasm as she asked, "So, what else do humans do at slumber parties?"

Marshall watched the confetti drift downward as he evasively replied, "Oh, well... From what I can tell, I imagine a lot of the same things that ponies do." Fortunately, as he re-established eye contact with Pinkie Pie and turned his body aside in preparation to leave, he had a good excuse to avoid having to mention less savory slumber party activities. "Anyway, Princess Celestia wanted me to tell Twilight something important, so I better go."

"Okie-dokie!" Pinkie Pie accepted without complaint. "You can give me your answer later. Oh, I can't wait for it! Well, I can, but I'll be anticipating it like nopony's business!"

While Pinkie Pie went off on a tangent, wondering if someone could successfully run a business where its employees were paid to anticipate stuff in another's place, Marshall seized the opportunity to continue his way toward Twilight Sparkle's location. He soon found her stationed outside of the town hall, between two sets up steps, with one of them leading directly to the building's main entrance. She was sitting behind a simple wooden desk, on a pile of straw, having an exchange with the pegasus that was standing in front of said desk, who was the current head of a short line.

He slowed his approach to a walk, which gave him enough time to see Twilight Sparkle quickly hide a look of disappointment behind an insincere smile, say something to the pegasus that he couldn't quite make out, wave goodbye to him, then greet the next pony in the line with a more natural — if slightly strained — smile even as she took a quill and made a quick notation in one of the two rolls of parchment lying before her on the desktop. On one of the front corners of the desk stood a small folding sign that advertised what she was doing, which he was able to read while he bypassed the line that was between him and the princess.

Upon noticing him, Twilight Sparkle apologized to those waiting in line and excused herself before gesturing for him to follow her to one of the small trees near the town hall, in order to achieve some semblance of privacy. Speaking a bit quieter than she normally would, possibly without even meaning to do so, it was with some apparent worry that she asked, "How did it go?"

Marshall hesitated in giving an answer, considering how Twilight Sparkle was in the middle of conducting a survey that was being used to find out if any of the inhabitants of Ponyville would be willing to feed a changeling under peaceful conditions. Feeling things out with a hypothetical scenario would have been a sensible enough start, had there been time to prepare the town for such an event down the road, but now they had to hope that they would have enough willing volunteers as things currently stood. "Well... Chrysalis is bringing a hundred changelings to your castle tomorrow, and she won't listen to any of our proposals unless they're fed to her satisfaction."

Twilight Sparkle suddenly extended her wings a few inches from her body and held them there rigidly, but what really caught Marshall's attention were her eyes, due to her irises constricting alongside her pupils. "A hundred changelings... here? Tomorrow!?" Before she was able to really panic, she proceeded to inhale and hold her breath as she applied a hoof to her chest, then released it and extended the same hoof away from herself, which helped to calm her down. Still worried, but now also curious, she queried, "Was that really the best arrangement that Celestia could work out with Chrysalis?"

Not really knowing how else to put it, Marshall simply said, "She didn't really get a chance to negotiate, since Chrysalis left just as soon as she had given her terms. Despite that, she didn't seem to be worried about it."

"She didn't?" Twilight Sparkle questioned.

Marshall could only shrug his shoulders in response, since he didn't know for sure. Then, since her worried expression told him that she doubted their chances of being successful tomorrow, he decided to try and raise her spirits with a compliment. "Maybe she's not worried because she has you to depend on."

Much to his confusion and concern, his suggestion had a rather different effect than what he had been hoping to achieve, because there was something decidedly... off about the smile that Twilight Sparkle responded with. On top of that, he couldn't help noticing that her irises had constricted again, or how one of her ears twitched in a way that he hadn't seen before. Also, he had to wonder if she'd had so many hairs out of place, since he hadn't really paid her mane and tail that much attention since he had first spotted her at the desk.

"That must be it!" Twilight Sparkle loudly agreed, whose bottom eyelid ticked during the unnatural pause that followed. "Really, what's a hundred changelings, anyway? I mean, there are hundreds of ponies in Ponyville, so I'm sure the odds of finding enough love for them to eat is in my favor... right?"

Marshall took a step back before he could stop himself, not only because Twilight Sparkle's behavior was somewhat alarming, but due to the fact that she had suddenly filled his vision with her face right when her final word had been uttered. Given that he was in unfamiliar territory and didn't know the best course of action, he couldn't prevent his ears from folding back as he tentatively replied, "Um... Yes?"

Nodding to herself with self-satisfaction, Twilight Sparkle turned about and began to approach the ponies who were still waiting at the desk.  "Well, I still only have a day to organize enough ponies to feed a hundred changelings, so—"

Between seeing her visage and catching those words, however, the aforementioned ponies glanced at each other worriedly before taking flight, both in the figurative and literal senses. Twilight Sparkle tried to call after them, to assure them that nothing untoward would happen, but she received no response — none that were desired, at any rate. She soon resorted to chasing them down so she could try to clear up the matter, but all she managed to do was cause a scene and spread more of the same behavior, with ponies either falling under the wrong impression or simply being scared of the idea of being visited by changelings.

Feeling somehow responsible for this debacle, even if he wasn't quite sure how, Marshall stood by anxiously for a few seconds before deciding to find someone who could do something about the situation, since he had no idea what he would be able to accomplish on his own. Rarity immediately sprung to mind, whom he immediately began to gallop toward without any other considerations: not only because he knew her the best among his new pony friends, but well enough to be reasonably sure that she could provide help in this particular situation.

However, he had barely left the town square when he heard a voice that was so distinct that he had no trouble identifying its owner when they yelled, "Hey! Rech!"

When he looked up, in the direction that he thought he'd heard Rainbow Dash coming from, he saw that she was already nearly finished matching his pace while drawing a few feet closer to him, despite having sounded much farther away only a second or so ago. Thinking that she was playing a joke on him, by calling him "retch" for short, he rolled his eyes as he returned his attention to the fore and said, "Ha, ha; very funny. Was there anything else you wanted?"

Rainbow Dash regarded him with a confused look on her face, but that feeling was quickly overtaken by her initial enthusiasm when she decided that the source of said enthusiasm was more important, which prompted her to coyly say, "Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to play parasprite panic this weekend."

"Parasprite panic?" Marshall distractedly repeated, who continued to prioritize his plan to seek out Rarity for help.

Finally noticing that something was up, which would likely undermine the impact that she wanted to make with her announcement, Rainbow Dash switched gears and said, "Wait, where are you going in such a rush?"

The question drew enough of Marshall's attention away from his objective for him to realize that he might have already found someone who could help Twilight Sparkle, since Rainbow Dash was one of her friends. So, he quickly came to a stop and turned to the now-hovering pegasus, saying, "I thought Rarity could help Twilight Sparkle. She began to act... weird after something I said."

"Weird, huh," Rainbow Dash said in a thoughtful tone, with her head slightly cocked and forelegs crossed. "What didja say to her?"

"I just implied that Princess Celestia might be relying on her because she's dependable," Marshall supplied.

Rainbow Dash stared for a second before closing her eyes and applying a hoof between them, as if she had suddenly developed a headache. "Yeah, that'll do it." Rather than elaborate on that, she steeled herself for whatever awaited her and asked, "Okay, where did you last see her?"

Once he had the upper portion of the town hall within view, Marshall pointed toward it and said, "At the town square."

Without saying another word, Rainbow Dash flew over to the town square almost instantly, leaving a rainbow-colored trail in her wake. Having been buffeted by the gust of wind caused by her leave-taking, Marshall spent a few seconds getting his mane out of his face while he marveled at the pegasus' speed. After deciding to put his worries about Twilight Sparkle aside for the time being, in the hope that Rainbow Dash would be able to take care of the matter, he continued to make his way to Rarity at a more leisurely pace. Along the way, he briefly wondered what kind of activity Rainbow Dash had wanted him to play.

When he entered the room where Rarity seemed to do most of her work, he saw that the kimonos had been moved elsewhere, along with all but one of the tables. Other than some changes to the type and quantity of the supplies that they were going to be using, the only other thing that stood out to him was the wheeled garment rack, where a dozen or so outfits hung over several boxes that he could only guess contained shoes or hats, if not both.

He noticed that Rarity was already wearing her glasses, and had a tape measure hanging from her neck, when she turned away from the garment rack and asked, "How did she take the news?" After he gave his answer, which included the part about Rainbow Dash, she simply shook her head. Then, having taken note of the underlying question in his expression, she added, "Twilight holds Princess Celestia in very high regard, you see. She was inspired by her as a young filly, as only a young filly can, and applied herself to learning magic. Not only did she manage to be accepted into Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, and earned her cutie mark in her presence, but managed to become her protégé at the same time as well. I don't think I need to tell you the kind of impression all of that can have on one so young."

Marshall nodded his head in agreement. Having just experienced the kind of impact that Celestia could make for himself, he could see the kind of affect that she could have on an impressionable child. That, and he had come to the understanding that acquiring one's cutie mark was a special time in a pony's life. Thus, he could easily see someone wanting to live up to her expectations, even if those expectations happened to be projected onto her.

He wasn't sure if it was due to his connection with Rarity, or just his imagination, but he got the impression that something about what she had said had come from experience. Had it involved an experience with Celestia, or had she simply been influenced by something at a young age?

Before he could really think about it, Rarity lightheartedly asked, "So, are you ready to help me create some — ahem — lovely attire?"

"You bet," Marshall replied, who smiled wryly at her levity.





Initially, Rarity had tried to figure out the changelings' dimensions from memory, but her attention to detail had been no match for the affects of time and how rarely she had recalled her experiences with changelings. Fortunately, Marshall had fresh memories of changelings that he could project with the spell that he had learned from Twilight Sparkle, and had enough reference points for her to be confident about what she planned to alter and produce.

Rarity had finished altering about half of the outfits on the rack when Sweetie Belle arrived. She ran up to her sister, unmindful of the circumstances as she did so, and shoved a drawstring bag into her face as she excitedly said, "Look, sis! How did I do?"

Between the interruption and prioritizing the challenge that needed to be overcome tomorrow, Rarity spared a second to peer over her glasses and distractedly replied, "It looks fine, Sweetie Belle," before pushing the bag away and returning her full attention to her current task.

Deflating at that, Sweetie Belle took a closer look at what was stealing her sister's attention away from her. Upon seeing a complete lack of kimonos, and finding it a bit odd for her sister to place so much focus on something that didn't seem all that special, she turned to face Marshall and asked, "What's going on?"

"She's preparing for the changelings that are coming here tomorrow," Marshall replied, figuring that it would be alright to be open about it, what with the likelihood of Twilight Sparkle making it public knowledge as a consequence of her actions. "The idea is to feed them love with the aid of a fashion show."

Perking up upon hearing that, Sweetie Belle said, "Oh, that's right! Mom and dad said that Twilight made a public announcement about wanting to befriend the changelings." More to herself than those around her, it was with a mixture of concern and anger that she looked askance and muttered, "I hope things go smoother than they had with those yaks..."

Before Marshall could ask about the aforementioned yaks, Sweetie Belle appeared to be struck by an idea, who whirled around and assaulted Rarity with an imploring look as she asked, "Can I help?" She proceeded to raise the drawstring bag that she had made into view. "Please? You said this looked fine."

With a sigh, Rarity deliberately removed her glasses and placed them on the table as she turned to face Sweetie Belle with an apologetic expression on her face. "Look, Sweetie Belle, I—" She paused when she noticed the meaningful look being directed at her by Marshall, who began to gesture for her to accept her sister's help in order to be more clear about his message. After looking between him and Sweetie Belle with uncertainty a few times, which was obvious enough for the latter to look over her shoulder and investigate what was going on behind her, it was with some resignation that she finally stated, "I suppose I could do with an extra pair of hooves."

Sweetie Belle whipped her attention back to the fore, Marshall's conspicuous attempts at looking innocent completely forgotten in a rush of surprise, disbelief and excitement. "R-really!? I can help?"

Rarity briefly allowed her fondness for the moment to form a smile on her face as she nodded her head in affirmation. Then, her expression turned serious as she contemplated how to fit Sweetie Belle into her plans. "Let's see now..." Her face lit up a few seconds later, as an idea began to form. "Oh, I know what you can do." Wanting some light-hearted retribution for putting her on the spot, she turned her attention to Marshall and gave him an overly-sweet smile. "And you can be of some assistance as well."

Marshall didn't really mind being given something more to do, between Rarity not being much for conversation whenever she was particularly involved in her work and the fact that he kept forgetting to bring something to read from his room in Twilight Sparkle's castle. Either way, he felt that helping Sweetie Belle out would be worth it, since he knew what it was like to be brushed off and rejected fairly well. At first, he had been too young to get involved with his older brother and/or father regarding one thing or another. Then, his brother had grown out of a lot of the same things that he had remained or become interested in, while his father had prioritized helping his brother with high school and the first year or so of college when he had time to spare. Since he hadn't had much in common with his mother and sister, he had eventually made a habit of keeping to himself while at home, which had been reinforced when the relationship between his parents had deteriorated and his siblings had both found their own places to live.

Rarity began to tell them how she had planned to make some attire that could be mixed and matched, in order to expand the variety of outfits that she would have to work with in such a short time, and figured that making even one more article of clothing for that would be plenty of help. So, she instructed Marshall and Sweetie Belle to set up their own work station, and informed them of where they could find what they would need for it in the storage room. In the meantime, she would write down instructions for them to follow, and provide some simple diagrams along with them.

Once Marshall and Sweetie Belle were in the storage room, the latter paused near the doorway, hesitating for a second before saying, "Recherché?" When she had his attention, she fidgeted a bit as she shyly asked, "You changed my sister's mind, didn't you?"

Seeing no reason to deny it, or explain why he had done it, Marshall simply nodded his head and said, "Yeah."

"Thank you," Sweetie Belle replied, smiling warmly.

Marshall returned the smile. "No problem."

It didn't take them long to get themselves set up and ready for work. Before they could begin, however, Marshall was surprised by a familiar pair of armless glasses as they were levitated into view, close to his face. When he glanced over at Rarity, who still had her own pair of glasses, she knowingly stated, "You're going to need them, dear."

It took him a second to realize why she was giving him a pair of spare glasses, because his vision had yet to become an issue before that point, but he thanked her and put them on once he did. After momentarily being distracted by them, due to wondering how they would stay on his face, he just chalked it up to being magic-related and returned his attention to Sweetie Belle and the instructions that Rarity had made for them.

As it turned out, Rarity had given them the task of making a vest and something that amounted to nothing more than a collar and lapel, which Marshall thought was kind of odd. While the motions of sewing felt familiar to him, thanks to Rarity's use of his magic, it was Sweetie Belle's knowledge and experience with doing the actual work that proved to bring the quickest and best results between the two of them. When all was said and done, though, they wouldn't have performed as well as they had if they hadn't carefully followed Rarity's instructions.

While he looked over the fruits of their labor, he felt a sense of accomplishment that he hadn't felt in a long time. On top of that, he was kind of surprised that he'd enjoyed working with a child that he hardly knew, with a craft that he'd never had any interest in before. While he wasn't about to complain about it, he had to wonder if it had anything to do with how often he had been denied doing something together with a family member in the past, since Sweetie Belle technically counted as one.

"What should we do now?" He posed to Sweetie Belle, as he looked up at the clock. While they probably had enough time to make an additional vest of a different color, not only would they need to eat at some point, he wasn't sure of what Sweetie Belle's bedtime was.

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to reply, but her stomach chose that time to grumble. She blushed a bit despite trying to act as if it hadn't happened, and looked up at Marshall hopefully as she suggested, "We still have time to make something extra?"

Marshall smiled inwardly in response to her desire to help her sister, but knew that he would have to act as the voice of reason. It wasn't only due to his own habit of releasing stress, but because one of his primary responsibilities was to make sure that Rarity didn't overwork herself, or sacrifice too much of her social life for the sake of said work. While attaining peace with the changelings was important, Rarity wouldn't be the only one helping with that, and there was no telling if there would be further, more demanding challenges in the future.

So, for the sake of all present, he turned to Rarity and said, "Hey, Rarity? Let's take a break and have some dinner."

"What?" Rarity replied, who stopped in the middle of what she had been working on to look up at the clock before switching her attention to Marshall. "But—"

"You can finish that later," Marshall assured her evenly. "And if the situation doesn't look good in the morning, contact me and I'll leave work early to help you."

Rarity seemed to be a bit put out and ready to start the argument that he had interrupted, but appeared to think better of it before she sighed and said, "Alright; let's take a break. No matter what happens tomorrow, it will be a good idea to face it well-fed and rested."

As she set her partly-finished dress down, along with her glasses, Marshall did the same with his own pair of glasses before feeling compelled to duck his head a bit and make up for his prior assertiveness. "Um, I'm not all that great in the kitchen, but I'd be willing to cook dinner tonight."

Rarity's expression turned contemplative as she hummed thoughtfully and rolled her shoulders, to relieve them and her withers of some of their stiffness. Eventually, she said, "Another night, perhaps. It's been a stressful day, and I could really go for a massage right now." Looking between Marshall and Sweetie Belle, she proposed, "So, how about we unwind at the spa, then have dinner at a restaurant?"

"I get go to the spa?" Sweetie Belle asked, with a mixture of surprise and excitement.

Somewhat amused by her response, Rarity replied, "We won't have time for my usual order, but: yes; I do believe you're ready to join a light sauna session and massage."

Upon noticing Marshall's silence and discernible unease, she regarded him with some concern and asked, "Is something the matter?"

Between the unexpectedness of his feelings showing themselves enough to be detected, and being the center of attention, Marshall had a difficult time suppressing his nervousness as he tried to give a satisfying answer. "N-no, it's just... I've never gone to a spa before."

Which was true enough, but hardly the extent of what was bothering him. For the most part he had avoided or mitigated intimate contact with his current body, or had been able to distract his mind from it with something else, but accepting a massage would certainly undermine those efforts. While he had nothing against the fairer sex, he had never once thought that he could be anything other than male before a few days ago, and the change in sex was a lot more complicated and treacherous to him than being a pony was — which felt more weird than anything else, thanks in part to the "training wheels" that had helped him get accustomed to it. In addition to being weird, having a female body was intimidating in a number of ways, and that was compounded by the fact that he was technically in possession of someone else's body, which came with issues that troubled both him and Rarity.

Fortunately, since Rarity was sharp enough to notice that he was willing to go despite whatever qualms he had about it, she smiled gently and assured him, "You have nothing to worry about, dear." After a brief pause, her smile turned wry as she added, "If you're anything like me, you'll love it."

Marshall chuckled lightly in response and couldn't help feeling a mite relieved about going to the spa, now that he knew that Rarity wouldn't mind if he became better-acquainted with her body in the manner that they were going there for.

With almost palpable anticipation, Sweetie Belle asked, "So, where are we going to eat?"

"I haven't considered it yet," Rarity replied, as she began to walk toward the room's sole exit. "We won't have to worry about that until after our stay at the spa."

"We're not going to eat first?" Sweetie Belle asked, who was as confused as Marshall was about it.

After Rarity paused to turn around, and saw that she was the only one who understood the reason for why the spa would be their first destination, she answered, "Oh, well, it's due to a precaution when using the sauna, you see: if you eat beforehoof, your blood pressure could drop to an unsafe level."

"Ah; that makes sense," Marshall responded, with a nod of his head. Sweetie Belle replied to her sister indirectly by nodding her head in agreement with him, since she understood that it was unsafe yet didn't want to be the odd one out for not understanding the reason for why.

Following that, Rarity proceeded with the task of getting them all to drink an ample amount of water before leaving for the spa, so they wouldn't have to worry about getting dehydrated in the sauna. Along the way, Marshall's thoughts about receiving his first massage made him more conscious about being "naked" out in public. Since his arrival he'd had a lot of things to take his mind off of the fact that he wasn't wearing clothing like he usually would, although it had helped that his coat had initially felt kind of like a form-fitting outfit; that, and the fact that most ponies didn't bother with clothing all that often. Thankfully, after being exposed to the normality of going au naturel as a pony for a couple of days, he didn't feel all that self-conscious about doing it himself, even though he no longer noticed the feeling of his coat unless he focused his attention on it.

As with Rarity's boutique, the spa was located a fair distance from the town's dense center, connected by no path and having few neighbors close enough to really be considered as such. Another similarity was that its design made it look more at home in some kind of carnival or fair. In particular: the checkered roof that bore a strong resemblance to a tent's canopy, and how several high points along its eaves, where two concave slopes met, were capped with either a crown or something that looked like a fleur-de-lis. Another part of the building's design that stood out to him were the windows, which had horseshoe-shaped frames. Finally, above the door, and hanging from a bracket, was a large, heart-shaped sign that depicted a mare with a wavy mane and tail.

When they entered the building, with Rarity leading the way, Marshall barely got a glimpse of the lobby before he heard a pony exclaim, "Rarity!"

The mare that had been tending the reception desk rushed out of the office and was in the lobby proper a few seconds later, hugging Rarity. She had a pink coat, blue eyes, light blue hair, and her mane was held back by a white hair band. Marshall's eyes couldn't help falling upon the image on her flank, which was of a flower that he recognized but couldn't remember the name of at that precise moment.

When the receptionist stepped away from Rarity, she regarded her with elation and declared, "It has been so long, darling! How do you fare?"

While Marshall stood by with Sweetie Belle and watched the exchange, he wondered about the receptionist's accent. It kind of reminded him of what a stereotypical vampire would sound like, which made him think of a Romanian origin. Idly, he amused himself with the thought of the ponies naming the aforementioned place "Grow Mane Yee-Haw" instead.

"I am faring better, Aloe," Rarity replied with an easy smile, before becoming more serious and looking at Aloe beseechingly. "And that's why I was hoping that you could extend your services to us, even though it's so near to closing time. I would be willing to pay extra for the inconvenience."

Aloe extended a forehoof toward Rarity, to stop her from speaking further, and said in a no-nonsense manner, "The only extra payment I want is seeing you get the care you so obviously need. Did you want the usual?"

Rarity's smile returned as she shook her head. "We'll just have a short session in the sauna, then a massage."

Noticing Rarity's choice in pronoun, now that the intensity of her focus on said pony had waned, Aloe looked beyond her and saw Sweetie Belle and Marshall. Perking up with interest, she approached the latter of the two and casually introduced herself with a friendly smile, as if encountering a clone whose mind was inhabited by a foreign consciousness wasn't all that strange. "Greetings! I am Aloe. Recherché, I take it?"

"Uh, yeah," Marshall awkwardly admitted, since her foreknowledge had been a bit unexpected. A spa seemed like the kind of place for gossip to circulate, though, so it wasn't all that surprising that she knew about him. Regardless, he chanced offering his hoof for a shake and said, "Nice to meet you."

Rather than shake his hoof, she met him halfway when she grasped it and pulled him toward her, so she could give him a quick, one-legged hug. When she disengaged, she breezily assured him, "Don't worry: you're going to love your massage, darling."

While Marshall felt a bit self-conscious about how obvious it was that he was feeling out of place, Aloe proceeded to switch her attention to Sweetie Belle, her expression lighting up upon doing so. "Ah, Sweetie Belle! Are you here for the sauna and massage as well?"

Sweetie Belle hummed in confirmation while nodding her head, eager to find out why her sister liked to come to the spa and wanting to share the experience with her.

Since Aloe felt that it was important to help Rarity in her time of need, she kept her response to a giggle before addressing everyone. "Well, let's get started, shall we?"

Instead of going directly to the sauna, Marshall and Sweetie Belle discovered that they would need to take a shower first, which was a measure that helped to prevent the sauna from becoming unsanitary. Marshall still had to wonder if it was really necessary, though, since he knew enough about saunas to know that sweating was a part of the experience. It just seemed odd to get cleaned up in order to get "dirty."

The first issue that arose — sort of — involved Marshall's wings, but Rarity told him that they probably wouldn't last long in the shower, due to their fragile nature. She was proven to be correct, because the thin membrane of the wings quickly dissolved to nothing after being introduced to the shower's spray. He would miss having wings, but only because his ability to fly went along with them. Otherwise, he preferred the look and feel of pegasus wings.

The second issue was a familiar one to Marshall: bathing with company, and getting assistance with said bathing. He felt extra-embarrassed because a child got to see his need for aid, but that feeling was derailed when Sweetie Belle decided to help her sister with it instead of finding his position strange or amusing and behaving accordingly. While he still felt embarrassed about it, he was touched that Sweetie Belle had come to accept him that much. It made him wonder if he was bearing witness to the character of this particular family, the society that they were raised in, or some combination of the two, because it wasn't something that he would have expected from either of his own.

After the shower, they spent some time drying themselves off. Then, they were taken to the sauna, where they were given fresh towels before going inside. Marshall and Sweetie Belle heeded Rarity when she directed them to place their towels wherever they intended to sit or lay on the lower bench, since she was the only one among them who had any experience on what to do. In addition to the lower bench being relatively cooler, the towel was another measure to prevent the sauna from becoming unsanitary during its usage throughout the day, in addition to shielding its users from whatever such measures had failed to prevent.

Marshall found the heat to be a bit uncomfortable, but bore with it as he laid out his towel next to where Sweetie Belle had put hers on the bench, while Rarity placed her own towel on the other side. Not long after they had gotten themselves settled on the bench, Aloe entered the room and used a ladle to pour water over a pile of heated stones, in order to increase the humidity of the room. Then, after checking whether or not anything more needed to be addressed, and receiving a negative response from Rarity, she left, promising that she would return in twenty minutes, when their session in the sauna ended.

While the silence that followed may have been a comfortable one for Rarity, since she just wanted to relax after having gone without the services of the spa for as long as she had, it was awkward for Sweetie Belle and Marshall, who weren't sure what they were supposed to do for the duration of their stay in the sauna. Marshall imagined that the situation might be worse for Sweetie Belle, since he remembered having a hard time being idle as a child, and it seemed to be a common "problem" shared by most children in general.

Marshall's wandering gaze eventually met Sweetie Belle's. She smiled despite how obvious her discomfort was in being silent while she endured the heat, who probably remained so because Rarity had her eyes closed and appeared to be enjoying the peace and quiet. After sparing Rarity a glance, he decided to take a risk for Sweetie Belle's sake. However, that wasn't to say that it wouldn't be for his own benefit as well, since there was a question that had been lingering in the back of his mind since yesterday.

"Say," he temporized, in order to see Rarity's reaction to him breaking the silence within his peripheral vision. When all she did was look curious about who he was addressing, he sighed inwardly with relief and gave Sweetie Belle his undivided attention. "Can you tell me what your special talent is?"

Sweetie Belle was eager to answer him, which was largely evidenced by how she perked up and spoke proudly with a raised voice, heedless of whatever concerns she might have had regarding her sister. "My special talent is helping other ponies discover theirs!"

"She shares the same talent with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo," Rarity added, whose smile was inspired by the accomplishment in question. "They even acquired corresponding cutie marks together. It was really quite remarkable."

Happy to receive a compliment from her sister, Sweetie Belle modestly returned the gesture in order to express the same familial sentiment. "But you got your cutie mark with five others, and you weren't even together when it happened."

Marshall observed the other two in confusion, since he had been under the impression that cutie marks were personal achievements and meant to show the uniqueness of their owners. "Those kinds of things can happen? Are they common?"

"You'd have to ask Twilight if you want a definitive answer," Rarity replied, with a slight, thoughtful frown. "Personally, the only other examples that I know of are twins: the owners of this fair establishment, and a pair of charlatans. So, I'd wager that it isn't."

"Huh," Marshall voiced, intrigued but not knowing exactly what to think about the answer that he had received. He also thought that it was an interesting coincidence how the only non-twin ponies with connected cutie marks — as far as they were aware of — happened to be in Ponyville at that moment. What were the odds?

Since they were on the topic of cutie marks, and he liked the idea of getting to know Rarity and Sweetie Belle better, he shelved away some questions for Twilight Sparkle and decided to keep the conversation going. "So, how did you two get your cutie marks?"

Sweetie Belle volunteered to recount her experience first. In her case, she and her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders had simultaneously realized that they found more fulfillment in helping others discovering their special talents and acquiring their cutie marks, instead of trying to do that for themselves. They had come to that epiphany after helping a filly that had been a long-time antagonist of theirs. When Marshall remarked that her actions had been admirable, she sat up straighter even as her cheeks flushed.

Rarity's tale turned out to be rather different, and not just due to her attention to detail and the occasional — as far as he suspected — embellishment. By "with five others," Sweetie Belle had meant that Rarity had experienced the same event that had played a key role in how everyone had obtained their cutie marks: Rainbow Dash's sonic rainboom. In her case, her horn had "abducted" and hauled her to a remote location, a full day's time away from Ponyville. There she was seemingly presented with an ordinary boulder, until the sonic rainboom had caused it to split open and reveal the precious stones within.

Aside from drawing a parallel of sorts between her magic technically not being under her control and what happened when she wanted to use his own magic, her usage of the word "destiny," to either rationalize or sensationalize what had happened to her, compelled him to ask a question that would — hopefully — avoid eliciting an answer that he wasn't ready to hear. "Is it normal for a unicorn's magic to behave like that? To do stuff without you wanting it to, I mean?"

His inquiry seemed to make her realize something, but she quickly schooled her expression and he got the feeling that her guard had gone up as she casually replied, "When foals have magical surges, certainly. It's also not unheard of for a pony's special talent to activate their magic under the right circumstances."

"Oh!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed with renewed energy, which had been sapped by the heat during the course of Rarity's cutie mark story. "Don't forget about Clover the Clever!"

Having heard about Clover the Clever just last night, Marshall had a good idea regarding what was being referred to. "Do you mean the spell that drove away the Windigos?"

"Yeah!" Sweetie Belle confirmed, who seemed happy about being able to contribute to the topic. "Everypony knows why it happened, but not how."

"I see," Marshall evenly replied.

He decided to leave that line of questioning at that, because he wasn't sure if he was prepared to receive an affirmative answer to whether destiny existed in their universe or not. It was one thing to learn that other universes existed, since the concept was inherently full of interesting possibilities, but destiny was more personal and foreboding in nature — to him, at least. On top of everything else that had changed and broadened his perception of reality in the past few days, the last thing that he wanted to do was worry about his role in the grand scheme of things, should he actually have one.

Besides which, it didn't seem like the time or place for such a serious matter. Aside from being at the spa to relax, he decided that it might be a good idea to err on the side of caution in the presence of a child, as far as such topics were concerned. Then there was Rarity's reaction to consider, which he probably wouldn't have noticed without his connection to her. The last thing that he wanted was for her to shut him out, so he wouldn't press the issue until he felt that it would be safe enough to, should he ever feel the need.

So, instead, he asked about the development of a unicorn's magic, since he was curious and it sounded like the aforementioned magical surge could cause interesting incidents. He caught a hint of relief from Rarity as she began to field his inquiry, which piqued his interest about her further. While he tried to pay attention to her as she supplied him with information, he couldn't help wondering exactly what it was that she wanted to keep to herself.

Shortly after Rarity finished telling him what she knew about unicorn magic, Aloe returned to end their session in the sauna. Sweetie Belle seized the opportunity to hurry through the now-open doorway before either Rarity or himself could finish stepping down from the bench, which inspired them to regard each other and share a chuckle. He couldn't really blame Sweetie Belle for her behavior, though, since he didn't really care much for the feeling of being sweaty despite having a better understanding of — and appreciation for — the sauna's purpose.

After waiting for them to finish taking another shower, Aloe approached their group and asked, "Would any of you like your massage in a private alcove?"

Seeing that Marshall and Sweetie Belle were looking at her for direction, Rarity replied, "I think the common room will suffice."

Aloe proceeded to lead them down a hall that was lined with alcoves on one side, and Marshall noticed that one of them was occupied by a pony who was receiving a massage. Then, shortly before reaching their destination, they passed by a pony who was walking in the opposite direction from where their group was going, and they had the look and bearing of a very satisfied customer.

The common room turned out to be rather spacious, and was primarily illuminated by lights that hung from its high ceiling. A large, round tub was its focal point, which could be accessed by the stairway that was a part of the platform hugging more than half of the tub's circumference. Said platform had a guard rail, and the panels between its posts bore the image of a rearing pony — of a mare, if he wasn't mistaken.

As far as he could tell, there were two other distinct areas in the room: one occupied by lounge chairs, which were close to the tub, and another set aside for things that projected from the wall, that looked like platforms but could — potentially — be something else. The area with the lounge chairs provided him with enough clues to figure out what its purpose might be, considering how there was a lounging pony getting her hooves filed, and a portable, hooded hair dryer nearby. The other area's purpose eluded him, even though two ponies were standing on separate platforms while chatting with each other. From his vantage point it seemed that they stood in a depression, and he could only guess that they were standing in whatever it may contain.

Aloe led them to a group of free lounge chairs. When they reached them, Rarity turned to Aloe and said, "Oh, I almost forgot to mention: Recherché's right shoulder suffered some trauma earlier today."

Nodding her head in understanding, Aloe replied, "I'll apply a balm before the massage, then. Please make yourselves comfortable while I retrieve it."

Not long after Aloe began to walk away, Rarity caught Marshall's confused, questioning gaze and responded to him by staring back evenly and saying, "You may not have been aware of it, but you've been favoring your leg ever since your... first encounter with Chrysalis."

Marshall blinked his eyes as he considered the possibility. Rarity had a sharp eye, so he wouldn't be surprised if he had continued to favor his leg a bit on an unconscious level, after he had pushed the soreness in his shoulder out of his mind. However, he found Rarity's exchange with Aloe more interesting, because it didn't appear that addressing contusions was an unfamiliar subject between the two of them.

He didn't think about it too deeply, though, since his massage was imminent and he wanted to mentally prepare himself for it. While he didn't expect it to hurt, like many comedic sources would suggest would happen, he did worry that he could end up liking it too much. He may have decided to not be too detached while he was Recherché, but he didn't want to make things complicated by becoming too attached to things, and his current body was on the top of his list of things that he didn't want to anchor himself to. The temptation from having access to magic and flight was bad enough already.

Seeing that Rarity and Sweetie Belle had already claimed their lounge chairs and were in the process of making themselves comfortable, he chose the one beside Rarity's and followed their example. It wasn't long after he got settled that Aloe returned with a fancy-looking glass jar that had a wide mouth, which had some kind of viscous substance contained within it. There were two other ponies accompanying her, although most of his attention was focused on her twin, because he had to wonder if she dyed her coat and hair for the sake of making it easier for others to tell them apart, or if it was natural for identical twin ponies to be born with different colors.

While Rarity and Sweetie Belle were attended to by the other masseuses, Aloe wasted no time in applying the balm to his shoulder, and explaining what is was supposed to do while she did so. True to her word, the soreness in his shoulder was quickly replaced by a gentle warmth while the balm was massaged into his skin, then the warmth seemed to reverse course and radiate outward even as the affected area began to feel somewhat numb. It reminded him of the times when his hands had been reintroduced to a heated environment, after the point where they began to ache from the cold, but not in a bad way.

Once Aloe was satisfied that his injury would no longer compromise his massage, she began to perform the aforementioned service after being courteous enough to offer him a little forewarning. Not knowing what else to do in the meantime, he simply did his best to relax while she worked. Much to his surprise, however, he soon got to experience what it felt like to melt under someone's ministrations. He eventually felt so good and relaxed that he couldn't help closing his eyes, and Rarity's conversation with her masseuse began to go in one ear and out the other as the world around him melted along with him.

When his massage was over, it took a moment for his descent from cloud nine to begin. By then Rarity and Sweetie Belle had already vacated their lounge chairs, with the former having a conversation with Aloe and her twin sister while the latter stood quietly nearby. He idly wondered how much time had passed as he got to his hooves and stretched like a cat, before leisurely making his way over to the group. As he did, he noticed that Sweetie Belle was looking at him funny, while the others regarded him with knowing looks, but he wasn't in a frame of mind to care why.

Aloe said something while gazing directly at him, but her words failed to register as a language that he recognized. Not noticing anything wrong with that, he readily assumed that she had asked him a question about his experience, and answered thusly, unaware of the goofy grin on his face. "Oh, man, it was amazing. Massages are grrrr-reat!"

While that elicited a fit of giggles from the older ponies, his answer prompted Sweetie Belle to look up at Rarity with concern and say something. Whatever response she got made her return her attention to him, only now it was with a dubious expression on her face as she spoke again. Thinking that she was speaking to him, and still unaware that he was inventing what he was hearing, he replied, "I know, right?"

Rarity and Sweetie Belle had another exchange before the former motioned for him to follow them, which he heeded without question. As he followed Rarity, who served as a beacon while his environment blurred by in a blend of colors, his thoughts eventually congealed enough for him to wonder if walking on air was the way to describe what he was currently feeling. He decided that it might not, if walking on air were anything like walking on a cloud, which was something that he could now say he knew from first-hand experience. Perhaps, then, he was walking on sunshine?

Something about that last thought arrested his meandering mind, and the world around him began to come into focus, revealing an outdoor environment bathed in a warm, red-orange light and long shadows. What that meant cut through his euphoric haze and made him blurt out, "The sun is setting!"

Looking over her shoulder to reply, Rarity held back her quip when she saw that he was lucid once more and appeared to be somewhat panicky on top of that. Concerned, but also confused by the source that seemed to be agitating him, she stopped walking and turned about to face him — which Sweetie Belle mirrored — before asking, "What's the matter?"

Marshall did his best to calm himself down so soon after his reintroduction into reality as he replied, "Princess Celestia. She said that if I watch the sun set, it'll answer whether or not she's controlling it."

"You don't say," came Rarity's rhetorical response, who was now more intrigued than anything else. With a sense of urgency, but an inward grin, she continued speaking even as she prepared for a sprint, saying, "Let's make haste to my bedroom, then: you can get an unobstructed view of the sunset from there."

With that said, Marshall followed Rarity back to her house at a measured gallop. Sweetie Belle directed a sorrowful look toward the meal that they had been heading toward before chasing after them. When they reached their destination, Marshall only hesitated briefly at the thought of entering another's bedroom, and another lady's at that, before accepting Rarity's invitation to join her at a window. It helped that she didn't seem to have a problem with his entry.

Once at the window, he saw that the sun was halfway behind the horizon and descending faster than he would have expected. Licking suddenly dry lips, unaware that Rarity and Sweetie Belle were watching him more than the sun, he couldn't decide if he wanted it to be a joke or not. Fiction had familiarized him with many impossible ideas, and as amazing or fantastical as some of them were, he couldn't think of many things that exceeded the scale of moving a sun, or — for that matter — an actual instance of a sun being moved. He could only assume that the kind of power involved in such a feat would be—

The sun descended below the horizon, and he found himself holding his breath. Almost immediately, much to his surprise, the sun seemed to hop well above the horizon before falling out of view again. It was so sudden and quick that he began to think that his mind might have been playing a trick on him. Then the sun did it once more, and by the fourth time he'd seen enough to conclude that what was happening was real.

At that moment, for the first time in his life, he fainted.
> Chapter 16: The Lovey-Dovey Bug Ball
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Marshall was roused from unconsciousness and asked if he was alright, he assured Rarity and Sweetie Belle that he would be fine, so as to not derail their plan to eat at a restaurant. Still, he continued to reel at the fact that someone had the ability to move a star. While there was no doubt that he had experienced other great feats in recent days, moving stars around at one's behest was beyond what fiction and scientific theory — that he knew of personally — had prepared his mind for.

Dinner turned out to be a quiet and somewhat subdued affair, but not in a bad way. After their initial concern, Sweetie Belle had set her priority to filling the void in her stomach while Rarity was willing to give him some time to recover from what he had learned, as well as from the embarrassment that he had felt about fainting. The meal had been delicious, though, so he was pretty sure that he could be excused for being quiet while they ate, if not for any other reason.

They had chatted idly for a bit afterward, but it hadn't been long before they needed to go their separate ways, with Rarity and Sweetie Belle returning to the former's home and him going back to Twilight Sparkle's castle. By the time the aforementioned castle loomed ahead of him, the weight of his circumstances began to return to his shoulders once more. He had so many things on his mind that he had to stop outside of the castle's front doors for a moment, in order to organize his thoughts and decide on what all he wanted to broach with Twilight Sparkle.

Once he thought himself ready, he entered the castle and looked around for Spike, or anything that indicated that someone was nearby. Seeing neither, he checked a few of the rooms in the main hall. When his search turned up no one, he decided to try his luck at finding his own way. Fortunately, Twilight Sparkle's room was somewhere at the highest point of the castle, so he opted to start his search for her there, rather than begin his search by getting himself lost in the corridors trying to find the library.

After a somewhat lengthy climb, it was with some relief that he reached the hallway that he recognized as the one leading to Twilight Sparkle's room. He paused when he reached the doors to said room, hoping that he wouldn't have to look any further, before knocking. One of the doors opened a few seconds later, but he hesitated from entering the room when it wasn't accompanied by a verbal invitation, much less any other indication that someone may be awaiting him within.

Upon stepping into the room, he immediately noticed Twilight Sparkle stretched out across the width of her bed, with her face pressed into the bed covers. He was reminded of what had happened earlier in the day, which he still felt partially responsible for, so he walked up to her bedside, where her head was, and sympathetically asked, "Rough day?"

Twilight Sparkle lifted her head, plopped it back down on her chin, and replied with a tone that sounded as tired as she looked while she stared past him. "Not really. The town received the news about the changelings better than I expected. I'm just... mentally exhausted from all the worrying and thinking I've been doing."

"Sorry," Marshall responded guiltily, his ears falling flat as he ducked his head.

Twilight Sparkle closed her eyes and released a sigh, then opened them and met Marshall's gaze before saying, "You've got nothing to apologize for." As she tucked her hind legs beneath her and raised herself onto the knees of her forelegs, she added, "For all that we know, this will be for the best. Who knows what Chrysalis might have done had she been left to her own devices."

"I guess," Marshall grudgingly conceded, before looking down and admitting, "I just wish I could do more to help."

"You're not the only one," Twilight Sparkle quietly replied, who deflated a bit and cast her eyes upon her forehooves. "Because I'm not sure we'll have enough love for the changelings tomorrow."

With concern, Marshall regarded Twilight Sparkle once more and inquired, "There weren't many ponies willing to help?"

After shaking her head, Twilight Sparkle levitated a scroll over to Marshall, from somewhere out of view, and said, "It's not that there weren't plenty who were willing to help. The problem was that not many thought themselves able to express love toward the changelings."

Once Marshall had the scroll in his own magic, he unfurled it so he could peruse its contents. What he saw made him understand Twilight Sparkle's mood a bit better: because there were only two names inscribed within. One of the names made him pause and wonder about it, though, since it seemed odd even compared to some of the stranger pony names that he had learned of so far.

Twilight Sparkle continued to speak while he was distracted. "My friends will try to help, of course, but..."

Hearing her sigh, Marshall looked away from the scroll and saw her rest her head on her forelegs, the expression on her face telling him how bleak she perceived the situation to be. He wrestled with himself for a few seconds as he stared at her, feeling that he should fulfill a role that was atypical for him, before putting aside the scroll, gathering his resolve, and climbing onto her bed. Once he was standing beside her and facing the same direction, he laid down and rested a foreleg across her withers.

"Forget the numbers," he softly advised. "I haven't heard of any limit on how much love someone can give, so — for all that we know — it may be possible to feed a hundred changelings with only one pony."

Twilight Sparkle looked up and mulled the idea over for a time before musing, "Is that even possible?"

"Who knows?" Marshall remarked, before trying to get her mind back on track. "The important thing is to believe in ourselves and do our best. Even a foe that dwarfs its opponent in might or number can be defeated if the circumstances are right."

Twilight Sparkle had a far-off look in her eyes as she recalled moments where she or her friends, or both, had beaten the odds, then turned to regard Marshall with a grateful smile. "You're right. It's not going to do anyone any good if I allow myself to be intimidated by this."

Glad that he had succeeded in improving her mood and outlook, he awkwardly retrieved his foreleg from Twilight Sparkle and scooted a bit to the side, to put a more comfortable amount of space between them.

While Twilight Sparkle noticed his behavior, she opted to focus on the topic at hand, which was more important. "Does Rarity have anything planned for the changelings? I went to her home to find out, but no one had been there."

"Don't worry," Marshall reassured her with an easy smile. "You can count on Rarity tomorrow."

Relieved to hear that, Twilight Sparkle took a moment to appreciate that bit of good news before realizing that her guest must have had a reason for being present. So, after clearing her throat, it was with some levity that she said, "Anyway, I take it that you didn't come here to cheer me up?"

Marshall allowed himself a brief chuckle, even as he grew a little nervous about the first subject that he wanted to bring up. Not so much due to the subject itself, but because of how closely it was tied to the possible existence of destiny. However, since he wanted to help Rarity, and had a limited time to accomplish that task, he felt that it would be a good idea to not pass up an opportunity where he might learn something that could aid him in that regard. After all, if cutie marks were such a significant part of a pony's life and character, then knowing more about them, and the magic involved, could very well provide him with valuable insight.

"Well," he carefully began, "I asked some things about cutie marks earlier, and one thing about Rarity's experience with getting one stood out to me."

Adopting a more serious demeanor, Twilight Sparkle prompted him to continue.

Marshall hesitated a second before saying, "It was when her horn took her to the site where she would witness Rainbow Dash's sonic rainboom, which happened a whole day before that occurred. I was wondering if that's normal, or if it happened to anyone else."

Twilight Sparkle blinked her eyes as she considered what was being asked, and a few seconds later she absently responded to the part that was easiest to answer. "It didn't happen to anyone else among us, no." Her brow furrowed as her thoughts began to dwell on the other part, which — now that she really thought about it — began to pique her interest. "And while it's not exactly unusual for a unicorn's magic to behave that way, it does seem oddly coincidental that her magic would take her somewhere that far away, to be at the right time and place for the sonic rainboom to play a crucial role in how she got her cutie mark."

"You didn't think so before?" Marshall couldn't help questioning, due to what her tone and facial expression had intimated.

Looking away sheepishly, Twilight Sparkle rubbed the back of her head as she said, "Oh, well... I wasn't in a frame of mind to scrutinize her story at any real depth at the time. I was more wrapped up in how great it was to be able to share that kind of experience with my best friends long before I had ever met them."

Marshall nodded his head in understanding before getting ready to steer her away from the subject of destiny, in order to address a matter that was of a greater concern to him: what had caused Rarity to raise her guard in the sauna. It had something to do with her magic acting on its own, but he wasn't sure what it could be. However, he did have a question that might provide an answer for it.

"I was only asking because..." He trailed off as he tried to figure out how to make his approach with some modicum of tact, before giving up and asking his question bluntly instead of stalling any longer. "Is Rarity's special talent really connected to fashion?"

Twilight Sparkle opened her mouth to reply, to confirm what she knew to be Rarity's talent, but paused when she realized that there must have been a reason for the question. After remembering to close her mouth, she regarded Marshall with a questioning look and inquired, "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Marshall began, as he met Twilight Sparkle's gaze, "I ask because I sensed her guard go up when I asked about her magic's behavior, and I'm not sure what other reason she would have to hide something, if the event itself isn't in question. I mean, when ponies get their cutie marks, is it guaranteed that they'll know what it represents?"

Having heard of cases where ponies hadn't known what their cutie marks had represented, or had misinterpreted them, both within and without books, Twilight Sparkle could easily say, "It's not guaranteed, no. Typically there are a number of factors, at the time one acquires their cutie mark, that aids in determining what a cutie mark represents, but neither the clues or judgement are a sure thing." With that out of the way, she furrowed her brow and asked, "Are you suggesting that Rarity's talent might not be what we think it is?"

Marshall tried to shrug his shoulders while lying down, which exaggerated the cocking of his head that accompanied it. "Maybe? I don't know much about how this stuff works, but it just seems odd that she got a cutie mark that displays precious stones only after finding some by happenstance and adding them to some costumes. I mean, it sounded like she was already dead set on becoming a fashionista before she got her cutie mark, which I'm willing to bet is a stronger case for acquiring one compared to the mindset of Sweetie Belle and her friends when they got theirs, yet that was somehow the tipping point?"

Twilight Sparkle stared blankly for a few seconds before looking askance and mulling over his words, humming thoughtfully as she stroked the underside of her chin. Eventually, she refocused her attention on him and said, "I can see how you could see it that way, but..." She paused and contemplated the matter further before a lack of a satisfactory answer made her pose, "Well, let's say it's true: why would Rarity hide her actual talent? What could she gain from it?"

After thinking about it for a moment, Marshall reasoned, "If I were to make a guess... Perhaps she finds the work involved in unearthing precious stones to be embarrassing, or less prestigious, compared to having a career in fashion. I haven't known her for long, but she has certainly given me the impression of presenting herself as an upper-class sort of pony, at the very least."

"Also," Marshall went on, as a few more things began to click into place within his mind, "as you told me before, she'd had dreams of marrying into royalty. I guess precious stones could help with achieving that, but I can definitely see how it would be beneficial to make connections with the country's elite by becoming a big name in the fashion world."

Twilight Sparkle nodded her head, fairly convinced by his reasoning. However, despite that, and how intriguing she found the matter to be, she didn't want to jump to any conclusions. So, she pointed out, "That only leaves us with finding out whether or not she has been lying about her talent."

"Yeah," came Marshall's unenthusiastic reply, before releasing a sigh. "Problem is: I'm afraid she'll close herself off from us if we confront her about it."

They both fell silent as they considered that potential outcome, which neither desired. Before the silence could stretch too long, though, Twilight Sparkle concluded, "Before we even think about doing that, we should try to find out more. Perhaps we'll find out that we've got the wrong idea, or have no need to ask her anything at all."

Marshall nodded his head in agreement, since they probably couldn't afford to make a mistake. "I'll see what I can do."

With that said, and because he only planned to stay after one more question, he decided that it was time to get down from the bed. Once all four hooves were on the floor, he turned back to Twilight Sparkle and said, "Well, before I go, can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure," Twilight Sparkle replied, before thoughtfully offering, "But you can stay the night again, if you want — I won't mind."

Marshall shook his head. "That's okay. I need to get more familiar with this place, so I can find my way around without bothering anyone."

"Anyway," he continued, glad that Twilight Sparkle hadn't seemed ready to argue with him, "I was wondering if I should be worried about getting a cutie mark, considering the circumstances. Could it interfere with the spell connecting this body with mine, for instance?"

"I don't think so," Twilight Sparkle slowly replied, with a tone that was not strictly conveying confidence, as she thought about all of the factors involved. "I can't guarantee anything, I'm sorry to say, but — as far as I know — it should be safe. While both cutie marks and the spell I developed for Rarity have a connection with one's mind, the spell has no interaction with the body and operates on a different mental wavelength, largely due to the portion that borrows from the portal marker spell."

Tilting his head questioningly, Marshall inquired, "Portal marker spell?"

Glad to have the opportunity to share her knowledge on the subject, Twilight Sparkle nodded her head and said, "The first challenge to opening a portal in another universe is making sure that it won't open in a dangerous location, such as a magma chamber. To do that, we send out a tendril, similar to the one that connects you and Rarity, to probe for a safe location. Upon finding one, we use the end of the tendril to mark where the portal will form."

Unable to check his curiosity, Marshall couldn't help asking, "Do you guys make a habit of traveling to other universes?"

With a shake of her head, Twilight Sparkle replied, "Although such instances have become more common as of late, due to abnormal circumstances, we generally don't. These days, we usually restrict ourselves to portals that connect to pocket dimensions." She began to look into the distance as she drew more of what she knew about Equestria's history with interdimensional travel from her memory. "At one time we made a concerted effort to explore alternate realities, because they're relatively easy to reach and locating a safe place for a portal could be as simple as using a location on our own world as a reference point, but it fell out of favor because establishing relationships between universes — and trying to maintain them — often turned out to be more trouble than they were worth. That, and, well..." Looking down, she sighed and somberly said, "There were other dangers. One disease that was brought back to Equestria, in particular, put a stop to interdimensional travel altogether for a very long time."

A few seconds passed in awkward silence before Marshall cleared his throat and said, "I see. Well, thanks for answering my questions. It's likely going to be an eventful day tomorrow, so I better get going."

Before he could reach the exit, Twilight Sparkle exclaimed, "Wait!"

Heeding her request, he stopped and looked over his shoulder, and saw that she was now sitting up on her bed. A second later she levitated a scroll to him, from her night stand, and asked, "Will you need this to find your way? Or have you already memorized enough of it to find your room?"

Realizing that he was being presented with the scroll that she had left with him that morning, he smiled uneasily and evasively replied, "Oh, uh... I won't need it to find my room. Thanks for providing me with that, by the way."

Twilight Sparkle returned his smile. "I'm glad that I was able to help. Have a good night, Recherché."

Feeling both relieved and guilty, Marshall responded in kind before leaving, his mind quickly focusing on the task of finding his room.





Fortunately, Marshall had only gotten himself lost twice before finding his room, as far as he was able to tell — or, possibly, admit. Once he was in his own body again, he put on some music and collapsed into his armchair, in order to digest all that had happened and think about what was to come.

Now that he was once again surrounded by the mundanity that was his actual life, it felt weird to consider his other life as if it were real. He hadn't felt like that at first because accepting it as real had been preferable to believing himself crazy or being messed with by some unknown entity. Now, however, he'd somehow found himself involved with what was effectively a negotiation for peace between two nations, which was the kind of scenario that he never would have expected himself to be involved with despite having always been in the realm of possibility.

On top of that, there was a new mystery connected with Rarity, that may or may not be connected with his investigation. Of course, that was assuming that he wasn't reading into her reaction in the sauna too much, imagining a dark space being occupied when it was — in fact — empty. Either way, he hoped that everything would turn out alright.

Finally, there was his decision to try and acquire a cutie mark, which was as interesting to him as it was nerve-racking. While he was curious to know if he had a special talent, he also worried about what it might be. Plus, he didn't even know if he could get a cutie mark, since the mental side of the equation was different from normal, what with being a consciousness from another universe and all.

Once he felt himself ready to put all that aside for the time being and start his day, he made himself something to eat and went to his computer. Since he was going to have more company in his head than Rarity soon, he decided to look up places in and around the city that he could include in a tour. He wasn't all that sure on what places would be good choices, since he didn't even know the ponies that he was closest to all that well, so he made a list of "maybes" alongside the places that he felt confident enough about.

Nothing of note happened until he checked his E-mail, where he saw a message from his mother. The subject had told him that it concerned the recipe that he had asked for, so he had looked to see what he needed for it. What made it notable was that his mother had ended the message by asking him who the lucky girl was. The question had confused him at first, then he groaned when he realized that his mother had gotten the wrong idea about his request.

After quickly composing a response that explained the situation, short of it mentioning anything about another universe being involved, he went through the rest of his daily routine before going to work. Rarity didn't contact him during that time, so he hoped that was a good thing and tried to not let the impending challenge with the changelings distract him too much.

Once he was back home, he quickly found some food to tide him over until he "woke up" before making a beeline for his bed. It wasn't due to being in a hurry to transfer his consciousness to Recherché, but because he felt that he needed some time to prepare himself mentally for what was to come. When he thought himself ready, he closed his eyes and willed himself to his vessel in the other universe...

...Then he opened his eyes and found his vision filled by nothing save a pair of strikingly-green irises and viridian-tinted sclera.

Shrieking in surprise, he propelled himself backward from a prone position and expelled a grunt of pain when he slammed the back of his skull against the headboard of the bed. While he recovered, he glimpsed through one eye while the other was winced shut and discovered that Chrysalis was standing at the foot of the bed, looking amused. Annoyed by that, and his smarting noggin, he put aside his usual reservations and asked, "Why were you in my face like that?"

"Because I wanted to be," Chrysalis smoothly replied.

Seeing that it would be pointless to press the issue, Marshall sighed and maneuvered his body off of the bed's large pillow, so he could sit up in a more appropriate location. Once that was accomplished, he pushed aside his displeasure, in order to avoid antagonizing Chrysalis with the tone of his voice alone, before meeting her gaze with a straight face and inquiring, "Why are you here?"

Chrysalis smiled in a way that he found predatory. "I'm the hundredth changeling that must be fed to my satisfaction, and I've selected you to provide for me personally."

Marshall's ears drooped at the unfairness of her pronouncement, since he hardly felt himself able to accomplish such a task. "But..."

Smirking in a self-satisfied manner, Chrysalis said, "No one ever stated who would be fed, or how. You can only blame yourself for making your own assumptions." When no argument seemed to be forthcoming, she turned about and sat on her haunches. "Now, try not to take too long: you wouldn't want to make your friends worry when my changelings fail to show up on time, would you?"

With a frown and an ear flicking in irritation, Marshall was tempted to give her a piece of his mind. However, since he had a good idea of what the possible consequences of that could be, and that she wasn't the usual kind of individual that he could disrespect without receiving a far worse response in retaliation, he knew that the best course of action was to beat Chrysalis at her own game. Upon deciding that, he quickly noticed that he didn't have the kind of mental state that would allow him to feed her, which made him realize what she might have been trying to do.

Even though that gave him more reason to dislike her, he knew that he had to look beyond her behavior, to see the bigger picture and all the other lives that his actions could affect. With that in mind, he forced himself to ignore the pressure and focus on what was important, so he could put himself in the right mood for the task at hand. He didn't want to contemplate what would happen should he fail, before the other changelings had a chance to be fed.

After taking a calming breath, he brought his mind back to what he had been thinking about before, when he had managed to convey some love to her. At the time, he had found some sympathy because of the responsibility that she had toward her subjects, and some empathy for trying to do that successfully without aid. Unlike then, however, he didn't need to split his attention in order to be aware of the situation. So, while he grasped the level of emotion that he had before, he used what remained of his mental faculties to think of some way to feed her even more love, in order to ensure that what he had to offer would be enough to overcome the unexpected hurdle of her challenge.

His gaze idly wandered around the room, as if to join the internal chase for ideas, until something about the mirror caught his eye on the second passing. There, thanks to his new position on the bed, he could see Chrysalis' face in profile. What he saw surprised him, considering his experiences with her thus far: she looked relaxed, with her eyes closed and a smile gracing her visage, albeit a faint one.

It proved distracting enough for him to lose his focus on the love that he was trying to project, which showed when Chrysalis' expression quickly began to shift to something that was rather unpleasant. Fortunately, he was able to regain his focus without panicking, and she seemed to contemplate whether or not she should respond to the brief cut off of love before allowing the current situation to continue. Once he got his heart under control, and was sure enough that he could keep up his current level of love while he had something promising to explore, he tried to make sense out of what he had seen.

As far as he could tell, the reason for her turning her back on him might have something to do with her wanting to enjoy the food that she was receiving without him knowing about it. That was the best guess that he could make, at least, considering what her reaction had been yesterday, when she had been caught off guard by the love sent by Celestia and himself. It seemed that she had an image that she wished to maintain, at the very least.

Whether or not there was more to it than that, he couldn't be sure. However, for the sake of generating more love, he imagined that she was a nice, caring individual who wore a mask because of her role as a leader, rather than having a mean nature by default. It wasn't hard to do, between her being the mother of the changelings and having to be strong for a race that probably hadn't been received well by other societies. While it was certainly an optimistic interpretation of her behavior, it was both needed and hoped for, considering the future that the princesses were trying to achieve with the changelings. With all that in mind, he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Immediately after incorporating that additional source of inspiration, he saw Chrysalis' body stiffen. A glance in the mirror showed that her eyes were now open, and they clearly conveyed her confusion. Rather than continue being fed with this latest development, she stood up, schooled her expression, then turned about to face him before pointedly asking, "How did you suddenly increase your love so much?"

Doing his best to act nonchalant, Marshall shrugged his shoulders and said, "I just got to thinking about how you're both a mother and a ruler, and I couldn't help admiring that."

In response to that, Chrysalis stared at him for a moment, her expression unmoving. While he could see something in her eyes, which betrayed her facade, it was either too faint or mixed for him discern its nature. Regardless, it wasn't long before she turned to face the exit and evenly said, "As you should. And since you have enough sense to, I'll accept your meager offering and retrieve my... children."

She promptly left the room after saying that. Once Marshall thought enough time had passed for it to be safe, he sighed and allowed his forehooves to slide out from underneath him, so he could rest upon his belly. "Man, what a way to start a day..."

Still, he was both relieved and glad to have succeeded. Now they just had to get the same result with the ninety-nine changelings that remained. He didn't know if they could do that with the amount of ponies that he was aware of, but he had to hope that they would, even though he had no idea what most of them would try to do.

Before he could put much thought into how Chrysalis had hesitated before finishing her last sentence, he noticed a set of pannier saddlebags waiting for him by the door. Curious about them and the note attached, he left the bed to investigate. After a brief glance at the saddlebags, where he saw that one flap bore Celestia's cutie mark while the other had a cutie mark of a crescent moon within a dark splotch, he picked up the note and read it.

After he finished reading it, he looked up and thought, "A stipend, huh..."

As it turned out, Twilight Sparkle, Celestia and Luna — whom he assumed the other cutie mark belonged to — had decided that he shouldn't need to depend on others for anything requiring the expenditure of currency. They wanted to expand on his freedom to experience the town on his own terms, whenever he had the opportunity. He could even use the money to rent his own place, if he so desired.

Opening up one of the saddlebags, he levitated a pouch full of bits into view, which he looked at thoughtfully for a few seconds before putting it and the note back. He had something more important and imminent to worry about, so he left the saddlebags and money where they were so he wouldn't overlook them later. With that decided, he proceeded to leave the room, to where the note had indicated he should go if he wanted to be present or helpful while the changelings were being fed: the ballroom. The note had informed him that it was on the ground floor, and that the door would be left open for him.

While he had no idea of where to start looking for the ballroom, he began to wonder if it were really necessary when he reached the ground floor, where he began to hear... electronic dance music? Putting aside the question of whether or not it was possible, because he couldn't recall seeing anything that technologically advanced in Ponyville before, he followed the music to its source. Seeing that it led to a room whose large doors had been left open, he hesitated a second before entering it, hoping that he would be ready for whatever would happen next.

Stopping just inside the room, he observed the state of affairs within. On the other end of the ballroom, upon the stage, was a unicorn mare working behind turntables and between two really tall speakers. She had a white coat, Celtic blue hair with cyan stripes, and wore a pair of headphones and glasses with purple-tinted lenses. Nearby, on the ballroom floor, was a wheeled garment rack, dressing screen and cheval mirror, where Rarity and Spike appeared to be having a conversation. On the opposite side of the room from them was Pinkie Pie, who was bouncing with anticipation beside a large mound of toys, props and games, as well as a sky blue cannon of all things. Close to the entrance was Applejack, who leaned — with crossed legs — against a small wagon that was filled above the brim with apples. Even closer to him was Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, who were sitting together and showed no outward sign of having some method of feeding the changelings, with the former clearly looking disgruntled and the latter some mixture of worried and nervous.

Then there was the light grey pegasus mare located between the other pegasi and Pinkie Pie, who had pale yellow hair and golden eyes. She stood beside a line of multi-shelf carts that had a variety of muffins on offer, which she appeared to be eyeing with no small amount of longing. What really caught his attention, though, was her eyes: because she appeared to have strabismus. He couldn't help staring at her, wondering why magic hadn't intervened, or how it could have failed if it had. And he could only assume that she had been the one named "Derpy" on Twilight Sparkle's rather vacant list, which was a curiosity as well.

He was so distracted by her that he missed Pinkie Pie's exuberant waving and ended up losing what little time he had for greeting anyone in the room, because — before he knew it — he began to hear the approach of many hooves. Stepping out of the way, which saw him standing a few feet away from Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, he turned to face the entrance and waited for the changelings to arrive. As they grew louder, and Twilight Sparkle's voice began to carry over the din of their footfalls, he did his best to steel himself for what was ahead of everyone present.

The room fell silent when the changelings began to enter the room, headed by Chrysalis and Twilight Sparkle. The former of the two immediately directed them to congregate in the center of the room, before she and Twilight Sparkle moved aside to allow them room to do so, drawing near to his own position. As the changelings followed Chrysalis' order, he focused his attention on Twilight Sparkle, to see how she was doing. To his relief, she seemed to be doing fine despite looking a little tense.

The aforementioned princess noticed him and closed what little distance remained between them, who managed a small smile as she said, "I'm glad that you could make it." Her expression quickly turned to one of concern, however. "Wait... If you're here this early, have you had a chance to eat?"

Marshall rubbed the back his neck sheepishly, partly because he hadn't noticed his stomach's mild complaints until her query. "Oh, um... I might have had too much on my mind and totally forgot?"

Twilight Sparkle frowned. A few seconds later her horn lit up, and shortly thereafter Marshall found a muffin and an apple floating before him, which were supposed to be for the changelings. Looking at her with uncertainty, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Before Twilight Sparkle could reply, Chrysalis came up to them and remarked, "Awfully confident, aren't we?"

Turning her head away from Marshall, in order to regard Chrysalis, Twilight Sparkle evenly said, "We can't forget our own needs while trying to address yours."

While Chrysalis simply snorted at that, rather than make a verbal retort, Twilight Sparkle returned her attention to the fore and snuck Marshall a wink. He could only stare blankly in response, wondering what had inspired her to do that. Before he could really think about it, or Twilight Sparkle recognize his lack of acknowledgement, their attention was drawn back to the changelings when Chrysalis raised her voice and told them to eat what was being offered to them.

Marshall and Twilight Sparkle turned to face the center of the room as most of the changelings tentatively began to move toward the ponies that were going to try and feed them, which prompted the pony on the stage to start playing music again. Some were more eager or fearless than others, though, while a number remained where they were for one reason or another. Marshall didn't know what to do except to watch what was happening from the sidelines, for the time being, so he decided to relieve his hunger while he was doing that, since returning the food that he had been given probably wouldn't be a good idea.

The apple was delicious, and a cause of some distraction as he watched changelings eating apples and muffins, being amused by games, toys and an entertainer, dancing to music, and showing off clothing. While he was worried about their success in general, he couldn't help focusing on Rarity in particular. Unfortunately, she and the changelings with her were hard to see beyond the heads of the changelings between them, so he wasn't as certain about her performance as he was about the groups that he had a better view of.

His attention was drawn away from trying to get a better look at Rarity when his vision seemed to become faintly tinted by the color purple, and at the same time he noticed that the music had been significantly dampened. Even as he began to turn his head to regard Twilight Sparkle, and noticed that the tint came in the form of some kind of magic-generated veil, he heard her ask, "How come they like the food so much? Was there some reason for why you didn't like Applejack's apple fritters when you were masquerading as Cadence?"

Having seen the changelings eating the muffins and apples heartily, yet not knowing that there might be anything strange about it, Marshall's attention switched to Chrysalis, who looked bored and stared ahead as she answered Twilight Sparkle's question. "Because emotion does not bond well with most foods, being as transient as they tend to be. However much love your friend had imbued her apples with, it had almost been lost entirely when she had sliced and diced them. Whatever she might have felt about those fritters of hers afterward, I can assure you that her love for them had not been noteworthy."

Seeing Twilight Sparkle become preoccupied with her thoughts in response to Chrysalis' answer, Marshall turned his own thoughts back to the changelings. Now that he knew that two of the feeding methods were working, he began to wonder if the methods used by Pinkie Pie and the DJ were having any effect — and, if they were, how it was possible. While the changelings seemed to be enjoying themselves, that didn't necessarily mean that they were being fed.

Hearing someone let out a huff from his right, he looked over and saw that Rainbow Dash was still unhappy. In fact, with her forelegs now being crossed, her mood probably hadn't improved since his arrival. Curious about her behavior, and wondering if he could do anything to help, he said, "Rainbow Dash?" When he had her attention, he asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Nope!" Rainbow Dash readily denied, who snapped her attention back to the ongoing activities. "There's totally nothing wrong about becoming friends with the changelings. It's going to be so awesome."

Marshall stared at her with an incredulous expression, wondering if she had seriously tried to hide how she really felt about the situation or not. Catching movement beside her, from Fluttershy, he decided to give her a questioning look, in the hope that she might have — and share — some insight into what was going on. The pony in question looked uncomfortable under his gaze, who hesitated and glanced at Rainbow Dash before quietly and reservedly supplying, "She's just going to miss having them as enemies."

"Hey!" Rainbow Dash complained, though not with any real heat to it.

Confused, Marshall queried, "You don't want things to change?"

"Yes!" Rainbow Dash declared, before realizing what she had said. Quickly turning to face him, she extended a foreleg toward him and hastily said, "No! I mean..." With a sigh, she lowered her foreleg and gaze, appearing to debate with herself internally before determinedly looking him in the eyes and elaborating, "Look, I don't want us to be attacked by bad guys, but almost all of them have been so, so..." She threw her forelegs into the air with exasperation and exclaimed, "Lame!"

Marshall furrowed his brow and cocked his head. "Lame?"

With a single, sharp nod of her head, Rainbow Dash rose to her hooves and passionately explained, "They're way too powerful, can play around with our minds, are hard or impossible to hit with anything that isn't magic, or have a way to steal our ability to fight them. It's not fair!"

"But the changelings..." She went on, as she pumped her wings and took to the air. "Now that was a fight!" She began to zip and swoop around the immediate area, throwing punches and kicks that were accompanied by both articulate and inarticulate shouts, before ending her aerial shadowboxing with an uppercut. "It was awesome!"

"There we were," she continued, seemingly lost to some memory as she extended a foreleg and swept it horizontally, "outnumbered and surrounded, having trouble telling friend from foe, and we got to kick so much flank." She shook her head a few seconds later, as she came out of her reverie. She returned to the floor, where she proceeded to cast an accusatory glare toward Chrysalis. "Then we were outnumbered and surrounded... again."

Absently, Marshall noticed that Fluttershy was looking away, perhaps in embarrassment. When he turned to see what Chrysalis' reaction would be, she appeared to be ignoring Rainbow Dash, unless she was actually too absorbed with watching her changelings to catch what had been said. Seeing that, his gaze fell upon Twilight Sparkle, who was regarding Rainbow Dash with a flat, half-lidded stare.

He returned his attention to Rainbow Dash after a few seconds of consideration, inspiration bringing a thoughtful expression to his face. "Would you still enjoy a fight with them when they're not an enemy?"

Rainbow Dash stared at Marshall blankly. "Huh?"

Catching on to what was being suggested to her friend, Twilight Sparkle pointed toward the changelings that were either waiting or loitering in the middle of the room and said, "Why not have a friendly spar?"

One could see all the pieces falling into place behind Rainbow Dash's eyes, who eventually grinned and remarked, "Well, it'll certainly beat sitting here and doing nothing."

She wasted no time in going over to the unoccupied changelings and challenging them to a fight, warning that they better not hold back because she certainly wouldn't do the same. Many of them swung their heads back and forth, exchanging various looks between themselves, before a dozen or so suddenly leapt forward and tried to dogpile her. With a whoop of joy, she rocketed into the air to avoid the attack and began to taunt them, which spurred them to recover from their initial attack faster and sharpen their focus on her.

Marshall watched as a couple more changelings joined in from other parts of the room, concerned for Rainbow Dash but also amused. After taking a moment to look about himself, he saw that Twilight Sparkle only seemed to share his amusement, while it appeared to be concern in Fluttershy's case. Chrysalis, on the other hand, had a slight frown on her face as she watched the fight above their heads, but he could tell — somehow — that it didn't reach her eyes. It really made him wonder what she was thinking.

With far less changelings obscuring his view of Rarity, he ignored the spectacle that Rainbow Dash was putting on to see how she was doing. He didn't know if it had been happenstance, or if Rarity had somehow sensed his attention, but she paused and looked at him as soon as his gaze fell upon her. Offering her a wave and a questioning look, she smiled and waved back, assuring him that everything was working out fine on her end of things.

He only got to enjoy his relief for a few seconds, though, because a blast of confetti and accompanying cacophony of party horns diverted his attention to Pinkie Pie. She was saying something while standing beside her cannon, which had a falling trail of confetti between it and one of the changelings, who was trying to shake off what they could. Quickly following that, he noticed a nearby group of changelings collapse into a tangle of limbs a split second after he had detected their laughter. They had been in the middle of playing a game that appeared to be like Twister, and he couldn't help wondering if it was played differently by quadrupeds.

A few seconds later he noticed a couple of changelings cross the room, one from Derpy's group and two from Applejack's. They exchanged a few words between themselves before moving on, to try out the other caterer of tangible food. Being reminded that he had a sample from both, he looked between the thrice-bitten apple and untouched muffin before deciding on the latter, to see how it would compare.

As soon as the first bite came into contact with his tongue, the taste made his eyes widen of their own accord. When the shock wore off, he closed his eyes, cupped one side of his face, and hummed in delight as he savored the muffin's flavor. While he may not be able to enjoy love as the changelings did, he could certainly enjoy it in the traditional sense. If Derpy ran or worked at a bakery in town or something, he knew exactly where some of his stipend would go — just as soon as he could find it.

After enjoying a few more bites of the muffin, a flash of light on his left made him wince. Before he could turn his head to investigate, Twilight Sparkle trotted past him, carrying a first-aid kit in her magic. He watched as she approached Fluttershy and offered her the first-aid kit with an understanding smile, saying, "Here you go, Fluttershy."

Fluttershy's concerned visage brightened upon seeing the first-aid kit. She quietly thanked Twilight Sparkle as she accepted it, then hurried over to the nearest changeling that had been downed by Rainbow Dash. Several of them littered the floor by that point, and their mixed expressions of pain and contented satiation proved to be a more troubling image than if they had merely been in pain. Even though he didn't know Fluttershy all that well, it was no wonder why she would want to attend to their injuries, considering how conspicuous one of her most prominent personality traits happened to be — what with being the element of kindness, and all.

Twilight Sparkle rejoined him, although she chose a spot that was close to where Rainbow Dash had once sat. She looked optimistic as she observed the happenings in the room, and he returned the sentiment with a smile when she turned to him and silently probed for his own appraisal of the situation. While he hadn't been able to keep track of all of the changelings, mostly due to a lot of them not being satisfied with one source of food and shuffling about as a result, he was fairly confident that none were going unfed, and that they were getting food from every pony offering it. He couldn't be sure, but he suspected that the DJ had been the most effective of the lot, who — even then — had the largest crowd of changelings. That and her music piqued his curiosity, so he made a mental note to pay her a visit when he had some free time.

When he looked to see if he could glean Chrysalis' feelings on the situation, he was surprised to see her face and comportment expressing resignation clearly enough for him to discern it. There seemed to be something more to it, but it was hard to tell in profile. He tried to figure out what someone in her position would be thinking and feeling at that moment, to have a better idea of what to say to her, or if he should say anything at all, but he simply didn't know enough to commit to anything.

In the end, after glancing at his mostly-eaten muffin, he finished it off and procured another from one of Derpy's carts, which he offered to Chrysalis in an attempt to cheer her up. She was caught a bit off guard by the gesture, in part because of the bit of love that he was unknowingly projecting toward her, but she recovered her composure quickly and accepted it. Rather than eat it right away, she stared down at it for a time, her expression blank, before closing her eyes and easing the entire thing into her mouth.

He watched as she chewed the muffin languidly, barely able to see her jaw move. When she finally swallowed, she opened her eyes and stood up, adopting a more regal deportment and training her gaze on the center of the room. Softly, but clearly enough for himself and Twilight Sparkle to hear, she stated, "This will be enough."
> Chapter 17: Blinkers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Twilight Sparkle and Chrysalis arranged a date to have a meeting with the rulers of Equestria and the Crystal Empire, in order to draw up a peace treaty and address other matters, the latter informed her changelings to return to the hive when they were ready before excusing herself. While Twilight Sparkle was too happy about the outcome of the challenge to really notice her exit, Marshall watched on with some concern, wondering what was going through the queen's mind.

He decided to follow her after sparing the ballroom a glance and concluding that there wasn't anything for him to worry about. She hadn't gone far, due to her sedate pace, so he caught up with her shortly after entering the hallway. Since he didn't have time to think of anything to say, and wasn't sure whether he should say anything at all, he ended up sidling up beside her and seeing what would come of it.

Nothing happened by the time they reached the castle's main entrance, and by then Marshall figured that nothing would. So, after stepping through said entrance, he stopped at the top of the stairs and watched as Chrysalis descended them. When she reached the ground, however, she paused. At first he thought that she was going to take flight, but he began to wonder if he should do something when the seconds ticked by without her saying or doing anything.

Finally, Chrysalis turned her head slightly and brusquely asked, "Are you going to accompany me, or not?"

Marshall had no idea of where she intended to lead him, but he nonetheless moved to rejoin her, wondering where she planned to go. They continued to walk in silence after he reached her side, taking a route around the castle. She headed toward the lake when it came into view, right around where he remembered Rainbow Dash drying him with a tornado. When they reached the bank, she stopped at the water's edge and stared out into the distance for a few seconds before tilting her head down and directing her gaze to her reflection on the lake's surface.

Realizing what kind of situation he'd ventured into, he took a chance and asked, "Are you alright?"

"No," Chrysalis softly replied, before her expression became one of weariness and she sat upon her haunches without restraint or grace. "I'm feeling very tired."

Not knowing what to say in response to that, and hesitant to treat her differently while she was in such a vulnerable state, it took him a moment to decide on a course of action. When he did, he slowly — cautiously — reached out and placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder. He hoped that it was comforting, at any rate: not just because hooves weren't known for their softness, but due to having little experience and confidence in the touchy-feely department.

Without looking at him, she reached around and gently brushed his hoof from her shoulder. He didn't know what that meant, exactly, but he ended up awkwardly standing beside her in silence regardless. Figuring that he should stick around, at the very least, he began to pass the time by observing his surroundings, with his gaze often gravitating toward the waterfall. When he wasn't doing that, he would check on Chrysalis and see how she was doing, hoping that his presence would be helpful enough.

Eventually, and suddenly, she evenly asked, "Tell me: have you ever done something for the sake of another, but forgot what they meant to you in the process?"

After Marshall recovered from the unexpected question, and the fact that she was opening up to him, he took some time to seriously consider what she was asking. After some significant mental digging, he recalled something that he hadn't thought about in a really long time. Since he didn't want to give Chrysalis the wrong impression by taking any longer to answer her, he decided to use it without fully comprehending what he was about to share.

"I think so," he modestly began, as old memories were drawn to the surface. "When I was young, a dog I'd known my whole life had gotten sick for a long time. I was eager to help take of him, at first, since I loved him — or I thought I did. It eventually turned into a chore that I didn't want to do, though, because it kept eating into the time that I had for having fun. When it got to the point where I tried to avoid the responsibility when asked..." He paused when he felt a pang in his chest, and continued despite his throat feeling a bit tight. "My mother told me that he wouldn't have long to live. That set my priorities straight pretty quick."

He heard Chrysalis snort in what seemed to be amusement, but she certainly didn't look amused when he turned to regard her. Before he could decide on whether to ask her about it or not, considering what he had just told her, she flatly said, "'Mother.' That's what you called me earlier."

Figuring out that her snort had been self-deprecating in nature, because of her tone, Marshall remained silent and allowed her to speak on her own terms. When that time finally came, she closed her eyes and sighed before saying, "I've been struggling to feed my children for so long... Moving across continents and hiding from persecution... Hoping to find a plentiful, stable source of love."

"Over time," she continued, "my desperation and anger grew. We never managed to satiate the hunger that gnawed at us incessantly, and our bodies became deformed. And I..." She paused, opened her eyes and glared at her reflection. "I began to resent the fact that I couldn't feed my children without acquiring love from elsewhere, while every other mother I've ever come across could provide for both theirs and mine by themselves. At some point, I'm not sure when, I ceased thinking of myself as a mother. It seemed like I could only help my children survive as a leader, so that's what I focused on."

The fire in her eyes dimmed, and her body sagged. "By the time we discovered Equestria, it never once occurred to me that a place with such an abundant source of love might be willing to accept us and our needs. The only future I could imagine was one where we subdued everyone in the land and lived off of their love until they perished, just so we wouldn't have to go through the unpleasant experience of siphoning love from ourselves for a while. In order to secure that future, I had to turn my children into soldiers — which I did without a second thought."

The regret in her voice, with that last statement, elicited a lot of sympathy from Marshall, especially now that he had some of the specifics concerning how the changelings had been living. He could only imagine what it would be like to be hungry all of the time, and having some of your ingested food taken by others because the circumstances limited how many could actually go out and get it. In addition to that, he was especially moved by her plight as a mother, which he felt was rather tragic.

Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to help Chrysalis, he didn't know what to do or say to accomplish that. Despite being willing enough to open up to him, she had still turned down his compassionate gesture, and he doubted that he would fare any better verbally, especially since he wasn't all that confident when it came to expressing how he felt with words. All he could do was hope that he would be showing enough support by being available, should she ever decide to reach out to him.

When Chrysalis finally glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and saw the expression on his face, she appeared to become conflicted about something. Then, without warning, she shied away and launched herself into the air. He could only watch in concern and confusion as she flew away, until she banked around the castle and disappeared from sight.

He stared at the last spot that he had seen her for a bit before sighing, standing up and making his way back to the ballroom. After hoping Chrysalis the best, because it obviously wasn't going to be easy for her to adjust to the changing times, he began to wonder what he was going to do next. With the challenge over, and thus the changelings taken care of, he wanted to turn his focus back to his investigation, but other things were also weighing on his mind: becoming more proactive about acquiring a cutie mark, deciding on whether to join a slumber party or not, and giving some of his new friends a meager tour of his world.

Twilight Sparkle noticed him when he returned to the ballroom, and he responded to her questioning and concerned gaze with a shrug of his shoulders. He didn't want to say anything that might inspire her to ask for an explanation, since he was pretty sure that Chrysalis wouldn't like him to share anything — especially something unintended — that she had only meant for him, so he remained silent and acted as nonchalant as he could manage.

Accepting his response, even if reluctantly, Twilight Sparkle inquired if he was still hungry, and suggested finding something to eat in town if he was, in lieu of hanging around while they took care of the changelings. It was a tempting idea, but he decided to check with Rarity first, since he didn't want to be unavailable if she needed his assistance. Because the middle of the room was littered with downed changelings, and he didn't want to risk having one of them fall on him, he followed the wall to reach his destination. Along the way he nodded his head in greeting to Applejack, who returned the gesture with a friendly smile.

As it turned out, Rarity had decided to take a break from work, due to her plans for that day only leaving a scant few hours for it. With that being the case, he decided to accept Twilight Sparkle's suggestion and find some place to eat in town. Afterward, when school ended for the day, he could also see Sweetie Belle about getting his own cutie mark. Other than that, he figured that he should also see if any of Rarity's friends and family were free to answer some questions.

So, he parted with Rarity and thanked Twilight Sparkle for both the suggestion and the stipend before heading to his room. Once he had his new saddlebags settled comfortably on his back, he left the castle and headed for an area of Ponyville where he knew some restaurants could be found. The saddlebags proved to be a bit distracting while he walked, since he was unaccustomed to wearing such things, but he managed to push it to the back of his mind.

He was nearing his destination when something caught his attention while he was idly looking around, which caused him to pause. Squinting into the distance, between two residences on his left, he could see a billboard on top of a building's roof. Wanting to get a better look at the image being displayed on the billboard, because he wanted to be sure that he wasn't imagining what he was seeing, he decided to take a detour and get a closer look.

Once he was close enough to confirm the image of a "hamburger" and disposable cup on the light bulb-lined billboard, he couldn't help choosing to eat at the building it was connected to. Not only was he curious to see what a fast food-type restaurant would be like in Equestria, but with a name like "Hay Burger" he couldn't help wondering what it would taste like if he ate a burger that replaced beef with hay.

After pushing past the front doors, he briefly paused in order to take in the dining area. The furnishings and layout were simple, with wooden tables that seated two or four ponies and stools that were essentially slices of a tree's trunk with a seat added to them. At the moment the many windows of the establishment served to light the place, with pink curtains drawn in the spaces between them, but there were hanging lamps when the weather or the time of day provided an inadequate amount of light.

There weren't many patrons at the Hay Burger, perhaps because it was a bit after lunch, so there wasn't a line when he reached the service counter. The cashier standing behind it offered him a really big smile, to the point of it looking unnatural, but they waited attentively while he looked up at the menu behind them. He ordered their trademark hay burger as soon as he saw it, then the horseshoe fries to go with it. For a beverage, he couldn't help choosing a milkshake, which he hadn't been able to enjoy in a long time.

With his order completed, he paid the amount that was displayed on the old-fashioned cash register's flags. The cashier assured him that his order would be ready soon before shouting most of it to the cook. As for the milkshake, the cashier took care of that personally. In the meantime, he moved down the length of the counter until he reached the spot where his order would be delivered. There was a stack of trays there, so he took one even though it would only save the tiniest bit of time and effort.

Against his usual expectations, it was the burger that was the first to reach his tray, which was served in one of those clamshell containers. It made sense after a bit of thought, though, since there appeared to be little preparation needed for all of the ingredients involved. The milkshake came next, followed by the fries, at which point he was encouraged to enjoy his meal.

Thanking the cashier, he took his tray, picked up a straw for his milkshake and made his way over to a table that was by a window, in order to have something more to look at while he ate. Once he was settled on his seat, with his saddlebags set aside and his meal ready for consumption, it took him a moment to decide what he would eat first. After a few seconds of consideration, he decided to try the burger and find out how the hay stacked up to the beef variety, since the milkshake and fries weren't as novel.

He was about to take his first bite when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and heard someone say, "Excuse me?"

Looking askance, with his mouth poised to chomp into his hay burger, he saw a unicorn mare who wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, a pair of sunglasses and a white sundress. She had a pale magenta coat and purple hair that had a lighter stripe of purple that was paired with a light cyan one. Her smile was huge, like the cashier's had been, except something seemed off about it.

Upon getting his attention, she asked, "Are you the human that I heard about?" After he pulled away from his burger and confirmed it, she followed up with, "Can I ask you some questions? I wasn't able to join the party, and everything I've heard has been second-hoof."

"Uh, sure," he allowed, since he didn't really mind having some company while he ate. That, and because had promised some other ponies that he would make himself available for chit-chat and questions when he had the time.

In response, the mare eagerly took the seat across from him and wasted no time in saying, "I heard that everyone in your country was created equal. Is that true?"

Marshall took a bite out of his hay burger before he answered, and concluded that it tasted alright after an adequate amount of chewing. Once his mouth was empty, he said, "Yeah: when you're born, you're neither a ruler or a slave. There might be more to its meaning than that, but that's what I got out of it."

"Oh," the mare replied, who was visibly disappointed.

Marshall raised an eyebrow and inquired, "Were you hoping for something else?"

The mare stiffened, and appeared ready to get up and leave, then — for whatever reason — she changed her mind and forced herself to relax. Eventually, she hesitantly said, "Well... What do you think about the idea of everypony being equal in skill? Like, where no pony's better or worse than anypony else?"

Making a show of humming in thought while he ate some more of his hay burger, he considered the odd situation that he seemed to be in. If he had to guess, the stranger before him liked the idea of everyone being equal in the way that she had described, and she had been hoping to hear about a nation putting that idea into practice. He could only suppose that she might like the idea because she found herself lacking in skill, be it for one thing or in general, and found it unfair, but he wasn't about to assume that.

It didn't seem like a good idea to pry, mostly because they had just met, so he decided to be frank with his answer. "I honestly don't see it working out well." He saw the mare frown, who might have even been ready to defend the idea, but he continued anyway. "If you could somehow raise everyone's skill level until it's at least close to their highest potential, then maybe there would be a chance of it working out. Otherwise, the best that anyone would be allowed to do, or would be forced to do if magic was involved and it could do that, is the worst that someone is capable of."

That last bit seemed to have an effect of some kind, but he couldn't tell what until she bowed her head a little, which allowed him to see her brow furrowed in thought and her purplish-blue eyes doing some internal searching. He could have stopped there, but if the practical issues with the idea had somehow evaded her, then there was a good chance of the personal ones being missed as well.

"All the problems that could cause aside," he went on, causing the mare to refocus her attention on him, "would you really like it if you couldn't do what you were good at, especially if you had put in a lot of time and effort to earn it? What about those you care about? Could you really see anyone being happy when something important or integral to them is disallowed or taken away?"

He knew that he had struck a chord that time, because the mare's mouth fell open and her eyes widened more than her sunglasses could conceal. She tried to say something, but nothing intelligible came out after several attempts. Eventually, to his surprise, she disappeared in a flash of light. While he tried to blink away the afterimage, it occurred to him that her question had been a lot more serious than he had thought it to be. He could only hope that his perspective on the matter had been more helpful than hurtful, since he had no idea if he would ever encounter her again.

By the time that he could see clearly again, he saw that no one was paying him any mind, whether because they never had or due to losing interest while he had been unable to see them. Either way, he returned his attention to his meal, his thoughts occasionally drifting back to the unnamed mare while he thought some more about his plans for the day.

Once he was finished with his meal, he opted to visit Rarity's parents first, because he figured that they would be the most likely to know something useful in the past or present, if not both. While he couldn't remember exactly where their house was, it was a simple matter of getting the river into view and seeing which way the windmill was located. When he had it in his sights, he set an unhurried pace and returned any greetings along the way, along with a few more promises to chat at a later date.

His journey was uneventful, and before he knew it he was standing on Cookie Crumbles' doorstep, who was pleasantly surprised to see him when she answered the door. "Oh! Recherché! Please, come in!"

As soon as Marshall crossed the threshold, Cookie Crumbles hugged him and said, "It's so nice to see you again." After she drew away from him, she deliberately stepped in the direction of the dining room and inquired, "Are you hungry? Would you like something to drink?"

Marshall fidgeted a bit with embarrassment at being fussed over. "Thank you, but I just had a, uh... Late breakfast, I guess?"

Cookie Crumbles seemed a little disappointed to hear that, but she perked right back up and said, "Well, feel free to help yourself in the future, okay?"

"Now," she continued, after Marshall reluctantly accepted her offer, "did you need anything, dear?"

Marshall nodded his head. "Yeah. I have some questions about Rarity."

His reply had a sobering effect on Cookie Crumbles, because she knew what kind of questions he wanted to ask. "Let's talk in the living room, then."

She led him into the aforementioned room after helping him find a place to put his saddlebags, where she invited him to sit beside her on the sofa. While he got comfortable on his own cushion, he spared a second to take in his surroundings. In front of the sofa was a coffee table, and to the right was a tall bookshelf filled to the brim with books and the occasional knick-knack. On the left side of the room, from where he was sitting, was a fireplace. The mantel above it displayed framed family photographs, which were bracketed by candlesticks. Directly across from him were two armchairs, and between them was an end table with a built-in lamp. Above them was a ceiling fan that was running on a low setting, which had a three-stemmed light kit.

"What did you want to know?" Cookie Crumbles softly asked.

Marshall bowed his head and took a few seconds to organize his thoughts before replying. "Well... From what I understand, Rarity wanted to be a princess, and had planned to move both herself and her business to Canterlot. Now, she seems to have doubled down on her business, and limited her magic supply despite that." He paused and locked his gaze with Rarity's mother, his concern only mirroring a fraction of her own. "I was hoping that you had some idea of what she's trying to accomplish, now that her first plan has fallen through."

Cookie Crumbles closed her eyes and sighed. "I believe she's still trying to accomplish the same thing."

"She still wants to become a princess?" Marshall asked, confused and wondering if there was some way for Rarity to accomplish that with her business.

"I don't know what else it could be," Cookie Crumbles admitted, as she turned her head to the fore and stared into the distance. "She has idolized Princess Celestia since she was a very young filly."

That sounded familiar to Marshall, and it took him a few seconds to realize why: it reminded him of what Rarity had told him in the sauna, regarding Celestia and a young, impressionable Twilight Sparkle. In particular, it reminded him of the feeling that he had gotten from her at the time, which her mother had just confirmed. At least, he couldn't imagine why Cookie Crumbles wouldn't be a reliable source of information for something like that.

Wanting to know more, and not just in an "official" capacity, he asked, "She has?"

"Mm," Cookie Crumbles hummed affirmatively, before turning her head to regard Marshall once more. "Did she ever tell you why we named her 'Rarity?'"

Marshall shook his head in reply, wondering about the non sequitur-seeming question.

Cookie Crumbles' horn lit up, and he was startled a bit when a photo album suddenly floated into view. She set it between them, opened it, then angled it so he could get a good view of the photograph that covered most of the inside cover. Said photograph was of a younger Cookie Crumbles lying in a hospital bed, with a newborn Rarity bundled up underneath her chin. Both of their eyes were closed, and he couldn't be sure if the mother was asleep or not.

Not that he was paying Cookie Crumbles much attention, though, because he couldn't look away from Rarity. She was so adorable that an unfamiliar chord had been plucked within his heart, causing a strange warmth to wash across his body. He was so engrossed by the image that he didn't scrutinize his feelings, or notice anything else of importance in the photograph.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Cookie Crumbles fondly asked.

Realizing what he was doing, Marshall bashfully turned his head aside and awkwardly replied, "Oh, uh, yeah."

Cookie Crumbles giggled good-naturedly behind a forehoof. "If you look closely, Rarity isn't the only eye-catching pony in that picture."

Marshall regained enough of his composure to take another look, and this time he noticed the pony standing on the far side of the bed. He couldn't see their face, because the photographer had prioritized the mother and child, but there was no mistaking Princess Celestia, between her size, coat color, peytral and what could be seen of her mane.

Curious as to why she was present for Rarity's birth, he looked up at Cookie Crumbles and asked, "Why is Princess Celestia there?"

"She acted as my midwife," Cookie Crumbles answered with a smile. "I had gone into labor during one of her visits, while waiting to greet her, when I should have been resting at home. She quickly delivered me to the hospital and assumed the duty."

"She spoke with me during that time," she continued, looking into the distance as she recalled the memory, "and the very first thing that she did was assure me that she knew what she was doing, despite rarely having the opportunity. Her words had stuck with me, because I thought I had heard a hint of sadness in her voice." She refocused her gaze on Marshall and smiled tenderly. There was a hint of pride in her voice as she concluded, "So, instead of naming our first daughter Sweetie Belle, like we had planned, I named her Rarity."

Marshall chewed on that information for a bit before remarking, "I can definitely see how a, uh, filly might feel about that."

Cookie Crumbles nodded her head in agreement, then closed the photo album and placed it on the coffee table. "I told Rarity as soon as she was old enough to understand. She wanted to know everything about the princess, of course. What surprised me was when her interest in the princess abruptly ended a few years later."

"It did?" Marshall inquired, intrigued after everything that he had learned thus far.

"I don't know why," Cookie Crumbles began, the expression on her face revealing that the thoughts burdening her were not new, "but one day a profound change came over her. She was a precocious filly, so I didn't think anything of it at first, but... She began to study all of the time, and insisted she visit Canterlot as often as possible. By the time she became the apprentice of the old seamstress that once owned her boutique, we hardly ever saw her beyond the dinner table, and sometimes not even then."

That sounded a lot like what the circumstances had been for Rarity as of late, so Marshall couldn't help wondering how things had turned out in the past. "What happened?"

Smiling wanly, Cookie Crumbles quietly replied, "We were concerned, of course. But Rarity appeared to be healthy, and happy, so we tried to not be too selfish with her time." She closed her eyes. "Then she got her cutie mark. We didn't want to get in the way as she chased her dream, so we mostly stood on the sidelines and offered our support whenever she needed it. It wasn't an ideal situation for us, but such is life." She reopened her eyes, revealing the regret within them. "So, we accepted that our daughter wouldn't bring us the family life that we had envisioned for ourselves, and — before we knew it — our little filly was a grown mare, with her own home and business."

Seeing the sympathetic expression on Marshall's face, and perhaps how awkwardly he felt because of the personal nature of what she had just divulged, she offered him a reassuring smile and added, "I'm still very proud of her, of course. Not many ponies get to achieve as much as she has by her age. It's just..." She released a sorrowful sigh and couldn't help admitting, "I wish I could have had more time with her, been a bigger part of her life."

Despite Cookie Crumbles having the strength to take that sort of thing in stride, Marshall still felt sorry for her. Rarity's parents were admirable, as well as refreshingly laid-back and affable, to such a degree that a conscious part of himself wished that they actually had been his parents. What really began to bother him, however, was wondering whether or not Rarity had been aware of her parents' sacrifice, and thus able to appreciate it.

Since she had failed to change the mood, Cookie Crumbles found a convenient distraction in the photo album and decided to try again. Levitating the photo album between them, it was with a more upbeat attitude that she asked, "Would you like to see more photographs of Rarity as a filly?"

Ordinarily, Marshall wouldn't have been interested in such a thing. When his brother's wife had brought their photo album to their last Thanksgiving gathering, for instance, he had made himself scarce so he could avoid having his acting skills tested. Now, aside from curiosity borne from their time together, he actually hoped to see some cute and endearing images of Rarity.

As Cookie Crumbles opened the photo album and showed him the first page, it didn't even occur to him that any of the photos might be embarrassing to Rarity, or that he could tease her with them.
> Chapter 18: Crossing Teas and Doting Eyes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marshall left Cookie Crumbles with a bounce in his step despite the mystery that still stirred in the back of his mind. Aside from seeing Rarity being a tomcolt in her youth, and hearing more interesting and amusing tales about her, he was also in a good mood because he was looking forward to his visit with Fluttershy. Cookie Crumbles had recommended that he pose some of his questions — concerning Rarity — to her, since she believed that Fluttershy was her daughter's closest friend, and that was as good a reason as any to go and see her.

He made a detour to Twilight Sparkle's castle, both to drop off his saddlebags and to see if Fluttershy was still there. Seeing that the ballroom was vacant of changelings and ponies alike, he opted to see if Spike or Twilight Sparkle knew where she was before heading back out. When he failed to find them at the few parts of the castle that he was familiar with, he figured that he could risk taking a walk to Fluttershy's house and back, should she not be home.

Cookie Crumbles had informed him that Fluttershy lived across the river, just outside of the Everfree forest, and that her home would be easy to find: not only because it was among the few homes that were remotely close to said forest, but because of the owner's efforts to cater to various animals.

So, he knew that he had found the right place when he came upon a house with many nests, burrows and bird houses in its front yard, as well as many of the latter on the house itself. The cottage in question was quaint, to put it simply, although he had to wonder about the grass-like roof, because it didn't exactly look like thatch and he had never seen any that was green.

Leading up to the house was a natural-looking bridge that arched over a small pond, which he crossed over slowly when he spotted a frog that was sitting on a lily pad, something that he had only seen in pictures before. When he reached the door, he paused, hoping to hear any activity inside, before knocking.

"Who is it?" Came Fluttershy's muffled response.

Glad that she was home, Marshall answered, "Recherché!"

The door opened a few seconds later, and a reserved Fluttershy opted to not step any closer to the doorway. "Hello. Um... Did you need anything?"

"Well," Marshall temporized, as he tried to make himself look as non-intimidating as possible, "Rarity's mom recommended that I talk to you about her daughter, and... I was kind of hoping that we could just chat afterward?"

Fluttershy perked up a little bit at the request, despite the seriousness of the statement that had preceded it. "Oh, of course." She stepped aside to allow him entrance. "Please come in."

After stepping past the threshold, Marshall couldn't help pausing and marveling at the room that he found himself in. On his left was a hutch desk, the kind that had a door that doubled as a desktop when opened. On his right was a wood-burning stove made of stone, where the furnace was already in the process of heating up a tall kettle. Across the room was the sitting area, consisting of a chaise lounge, armchair and a couple of small tables.

What really caught his eye, though, were all of the accommodations that were made for animals. There were more birdhouses, and he saw at least two of their perches being occupied by a bird of some description. Mouse holes were all over the place, rather than just on the floor level. The ceiling was crisscrossed with a number of walkways, including one that was suspended, and he noticed a squirrel watching him from it. Connecting a lot of areas in the room were little stairways, going so far as to zigzag from the floor to a mouse hole in the middle of the wall, or wrapping around the flue of the stove multiple times.

When his attention returned to Fluttershy, he realized that his scrutiny had made her self-conscious, possibly uncomfortable. He quickly tried to remedy that, by apologetically saying, "Sorry! I've just never seen anyone's home this dedicated to animals before. It's really neat."

Fluttershy relaxed upon hearing that. "Thank you. Would you like some tea?"

Marshall opened his mouth to reply, but a seemingly-disembodied voice, in a familiar, masculine-sounding tone, chose that time to say, "Did somepony say tea?"

Immediately following the now-familiar sight and sound of someone using teleportation magic, an unfamiliar creature appeared beside Fluttershy, who was neither startled nor surprised by it. Said creature, if it was its own species, appeared to be an amalgamation of several: one hind leg was from some kind of lizard while the other came from a hoofed animal, a feline paw and bird talon was what it had for forelegs, one wing was a bird's while the other belonged to a bat, and on its head was a pair of horns, consisting of a deer antler and a goat horn. Its overall body shape was that of a serpent, which was especially true of its tail, while its head seemed to be a mix of donkey and goat. The snaggletooth and asymmetrical red eyes, which had yellow sclera, alongside everything else, was a somewhat disquieting image.

Fluttershy calmly looked up at the creature beside her and commented, "I didn't know you were here, Discord."

Marshall recalled hearing about Discord when Rarity had told him about the circumstances surrounding the creation of Twilight Sparkle's castle. She hadn't said much about him beyond his role in the tale, but she had mentioned that he was now a friend, so he was willing to take his cues from Fluttershy.

"Oh, I wasn't," came Discord's flippant reply, before making a sweeping gesture with his arms, as if to showcase the room. "Haven't you ever heard that the walls have ears?"

After a blink of the eyes, Marshall could see the walls covered in all sorts of ears, where none had been a split second ago. It proved to be distracting — as well as disturbing — enough that he didn't notice Discord say, "What have we here," before appearing beside him. He certainly took notice of him, however, when he hunched over enough for his head to nearly be parallel with his own and entered his field of view.

"Hmmmm..." Discord hummed thoughtfully, who seemed to be peering closely at the empty space that was near the side of Marshall's head. "How interesting."

He extended his paw, with its "index finger" extended, and moved it away from Marshall's head in a straight line, as if it were sliding along something. At the same time, Marshall's body simultaneously stiffened and shuddered. He could only liken the experience to hearing someone scraping their nails across a chalkboard, and it also made him wonder if another, accompanying sensation was what people meant when they said that someone had walked over their grave.

Noticing the affect that the action was having on Marshall, Fluttershy admonished Discord like a mother would their child. "Discord."

Discord paused what he was doing and glanced over at Fluttershy with a mixture of confusion and contriteness on his face. "What?"

Fluttershy pointed at Marshall, and Discord drew his paw away when he noticed the stock-still, cold-sweating pony that had caught his interest. "Oh."

Standing up straight, he proceeded to mimic pulling something from his head and giving it a pluck, which resulted in him freezing up in the literal sense. While he was in that state, Fluttershy stepped up to Marshall and concernedly asked, "Are you alright?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marshall eventually replied, "Y-yeah," and tried to put the perturbing experience behind him.

Discord shook his body in a way that was strangely both serpentine and canine, showering the immediate area with snowflakes. "Brrrr! That was quite unpleasant." He vanished and reappeared in the air right behind Fluttershy's head, his body in a reclined position as he casually said, "So, obviously I missed something while I was away."

"Discord," Fluttershy began, as she gestured toward Marshall, "this is Recherché."

Marshall smiled uncertainly and gave a weak wave in greeting.

Looking over her shoulder to regard Discord, Fluttershy added, "Remember when I told you about Rarity's plan to look for inspiration in other universes? Well, she connected with Recherché, and she agreed to help her."

That was putting it rather simply, but Marshall could appreciate certain details being omitted. Either way, he tried to not be nervous about the intrigued expression that Discord was directing his way as he stroked his beard.

After Fluttershy confirmed that both of her guests wanted tea, she added more tea leaves to the teapot before filling it with hot water. While the tea was steeping, she retrieved a magenta cushion for Marshall to sit on, which she set by the table that was beside the armchair. In the meantime, Discord claimed the chaise lounge, who looked suitably bored as he leisurely used a brace to drill a hole into his body. Marshall couldn't help watching him in morbid fascination, until Fluttershy — who was unaffected by Discord's behavior — deemed the tea ready and served it on the tables between the chairs and cushion.

Once Marshall was settled on the cushion, and Fluttershy in her armchair, he watched the steam wafting out of his tea cup for a few seconds before deciding to fill the silence while it cooled down. The silence was broken by Discord instead, however, because he didn't seem to have any trouble drinking a scalding liquid, on account of the old-fashioned steam whistle that had replaced one of his horns, which was wailing and billowing steam while he drank.

When the whistle died down, he spared Discord one more look before speaking, assuming that Fluttershy would have said something about his presence if he wasn't privy to what they were about to talk about. "So," he began, making sure that he had Fluttershy's attention before he continued, "I think I know what's driving Rarity's desire to work so hard."

Fluttershy leaned forward, her expression and tone that of a concerned friend as she asked, "Oh, do you?"

Marshall nodded his head. "Yeah. So far the evidence is pointing to her wanting to be a princess."

He heard a spit-take after his statement, so he — along with Fluttershy — turned to look toward its source: Discord. He had tea running down his face, while the tea cup ran a small handkerchief along its rim with limbs that it didn't have before.

"What?" Discord replied, as if he didn't understand the reason for their attention. "You wouldn't expect a teacup to see that coming, would you?"

Fluttershy, unfazed, returned her attention to Marshall, who was understandably still nonplussed by Discord's antics. "Um," she hesitantly started, drawing Marshall's gaze back to her, "are you sure?"

Marshall opened his mouth to answer, but something about her response made him pause and rethink his reponse. When he was sure of what he wanted to ask, he queried, "Do you think there's another explanation?"

"Well..." Fluttershy temporized, as she ducked her head and hid most of her face with her mane. "I know how it looks, but I don't think she wants to be a princess."

Taking her word for it, Marshall took a moment to consider what she had said against what he knew before asking, "Do you think it's possible for it to be a means to an end?"

After some contemplation, Fluttershy was willing to offer a tentative, "Maybe."

Marshall's eyes fell on his teacup as he thought about the possibility of Rarity's true objective being something else, where becoming a princess was merely a stepping stone. What might she be after, that would necessitate being a princess? Something didn't seem to be adding up, but he didn't know what he could be missing. To take his mind off of the rising frustration that the mystery was kindling within him, due to how close to solving it he thought he was, he levitated his tea over to himself and blew on its surface a few times before risking a small sip. Wincing as the scalding liquid passed over his lips, he returned his tea to the table for a bit longer.

Since Fluttershy might be Rarity's closest friend, and another friend — Twilight Sparkle — couldn't be sure what Rarity's special talent was, he decided to seize the opportunity and try to solve another potential mystery. If for no other reason, other than to somehow use the knowledge to help Rarity, it might give him better insight into what she might be trying to achieve.

"This question might sound odd," he prefaced, "but do you know what Rarity's cutie mark means?"

"Why do you ask?" Fluttershy prevaricated, with a hint of discomfort, nervousness or both, which had the effect of making Discord noticeably tense and alert.

"Because I approached Twilight Sparkle with this question last night and she couldn't give me a definitive answer," Marshall explained, as he warily eyed Discord out of the corner of his eye. "I was hoping you might be able to help us figure it out."

"Twilight really isn't sure?" Fluttershy queried, her expression slightly hopeful. Upon receiving confirmation, she breathed out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness. I've suspected that her talent wasn't in fashion, but I couldn't be sure and I didn't want to upset Rarity whether I was wrong or not."

Marshall's body and ears perked up simultaneously at that admission. "Can you tell me what made you think her talent wasn't what you thought it was?"

Fluttershy nodded her head, seemingly eager to share what she knew. "It wasn't long after we became friends. She offered to make all of us outfits for the Grand Galloping Gala. While I don't consider myself an expert on the matter, I didn't expect the quality of the outfit to be... Um..."

Catching on to what she wanted to say, but didn't have the heart to, Marshall helpfully offered, "Less than stellar?"

"Less than stellar," Fluttershy softly agreed, before continuing. "Of course, I wasn't going to tell her that, but she insisted that I tell her what I really thought." She ducked her head a bit. "A lot. She wouldn't give up, so I eventually caved and told her all of the flaws that I saw in it."

Marshall leaned toward Fluttershy avidly and asked, "What happened?"

Looking away guiltily, Fluttershy replied, "Oh, well, the poor dear was shocked speechless. I didn't think much about it at the time, because I felt bad about what happened, but — in retrospect — that was the first time that I noticed something strange."

Leaning back, Marshall folded his forelegs and hummed thoughtfully before wondering, "Was it just the outfit that you found strange? What about her reaction?"

Fluttershy blinked her eyes a few times in bemusement, apparently having not thought about it before. With some uncertainty, she answered, "I suppose her reaction was strange..." She cocked her head and furrowed her brow ever-so-slightly as she continued to think about it. "I know that not all ponies would openly take offense to their talent being put into question like that, but she never defended or explained herself at any time. It doesn't seem like her to not put something like that to rest." She shook her head. "Not that I would have expected some of those mistakes from her either, even though she had begun her apprenticeship so young."

Deciding that that information would suffice, partly because he didn't want to press Fluttershy too much, Marshall opted to ask about the other talent that Twilight Sparkle thought was possible for Rarity to have. "Do you think she has a talent in finding gems instead?"

Shifting her gaze upward in thought, Fluttershy deliberately said, "I don't know... Maybe? Twilight would know better than me." A second later she recalled a notable event, thanks to how rarely she had experienced the relevant subject matter, leading her to perk up and establish eye contact with Marshall without reservation. "Oh! I just remembered something, but you'll have to ask Twilight Sparkle if it means anything."

"What is it?" Marshall inquired, curious as to what Twilight Sparkle might have to ascertain.

"Well," Fluttershy began, some of her reservation returning as she dredged up what details she could, "quite some time ago, Twilight copied a spell from Rarity — which I didn't even know unicorns could do. It was a spell that revealed all of the gems nearby. It just seems odd for Rarity to need that kind of spell if she has a talent for being led directly to the gems she wants."

Marshall barely had enough time to think about this latest bit of information when he heard Discord chuckle. Turning his attention to him, he saw that he was now lying on his front, with his head propped up on the heels of his "hands." He had an amused grin on his face as his tail swayed to and fro above him.

"...Did I say something funny?" Came Fluttershy's uncertain query.

"Your friend's talent is so painfully obvious that it's killing me," Discord drolly replied, before suddenly clutching at his chest, spasming a few times as he emitted comical-sounding noises, then collapsing listlessly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and the yellow of his eyes crossed out in red.

Fluttershy didn't even blink at the display. "Oh, you know what her talent is?"

The front door swung open and another Discord entered the room, wearing an emergency medical technician shirt and pulling a gurney behind him. "Of course I do," he answered while he made his way to his supposedly-dead double. Upon reaching him, he carelessly swung him onto the gurney before kicking it away, sending both careening out of the house, the door slamming shut in their wake.

Tossing his shirt away, he casually reclined on the chaise lounge and continued, saying, "And before you ask: no; I can't tell you what her talent is."

While Marshall was too flabbergasted by his antics to inquire about that, despite being the one that had come around for some detective work, Fluttershy tilted her head and asked, "Why not?"

"Because omnipotent and clever beings," he pressed the digits of his feline paw upon his chest, "such as myself, often end up being bound by nonsensical rules or obstructed by terrible plot devices."

"...Plot devices?" Marshall unthinkingly muttered, as he stared at Discord with an incredulous expression on his face.

Inured to such statements, Fluttershy remained focused and leaned toward Discord, whom she unintentionally regarded with a rather imploring look. "You can't even give us a hint?"

Initially shying away from her gaze, Discord took a few seconds to compose himself outwardly, at which point he closed his eyes and stroked his beard in thought. "Hmmmm," he hummed, as he sought for any wiggle room that might allow him to help Fluttershy. Upon finding some, he perked up with delight and raised himself high enough to knock away the lit light bulb that had appeared over his head. "Why, yes; I do believe I can!"

"Now," he continued, as he meshed his digits together and popped their joints by stretching out his arms, "watch closely."

He raised his feline hand, with its thumb pointing skyward and its index finger extended, then jerked it back in recoil when he shot something from his simulated barrel. That something turned out to be Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark, which tumbled through the air at a rather sedate pace. By the time it came between Fluttershy and Marshall, who were keenly studying it to figure out what the hint meant, they both jumped in surprise when it suddenly burst into a miniature yet noisy firework display.

Without thinking, Marshall reacted by directing a look that was half dirty and half questioning toward Discord, who feigned innocence and casually replied to his look with, "That last bit wasn't a part of the hint, by the by."

Irritated, and heartrate still elevated from being startled, Marshall decided to see if his tea had cooled down enough to drink while he thought about the hint, which he could only hope wasn't another joke. It was uncomfortably hot, but it was a nice distraction from how he was feeling at that moment. After a few sips, and having no success in figuring out Discord's hint, he turned to Fluttershy and asked, "Can you think of anything?"

Fluttershy shook her head apologetically.

Rather than dwell on it any further, since he had intended to spend most of his time chatting with Fluttershy about other things, Marshall set his tea down and changed the subject. "So, uh... You told me that you took care of animals, but you didn't say how much."

Blushing with embarrassment, Fluttershy looked askance and humbly replied, "It's not that much, really."

Marshall wasn't going to believe that with all of the accommodations that she had made for animals, especially all of the ones and kinds inside the house. "You don't have to be modest. I think it's awesome. Which is why I was wondering: did you have any plans to do more?"

"Plans?" Fluttershy questioned.

"Yeah," Marshall said, as he prepared to explain himself. "I was wondering since it's related to your talent and you've gone this far already. Or are you satisfied with sharing your land and home?"

Fluttershy worried her bottom lip. "Well..."

Seeing her reluctance, Marshall readily offered, "You don't have to share if you don't want to."

Her gaze spontaneously flickered over to Discord for a split second. Marshall couldn't help following where she looked, which made the attention apparent enough to the one being subjected to it, who inquired, "What? Is there some thing on my face?"

While Discord pat his face to see if anything was there, which turned out to be an animated hand that crawled around on its fingertips and dodged his searching hand, Marshall returned his attention to Fluttershy and used the expression on his face to convey an apology, followed by one that asked, "What do you want to do?"

After an obvious internal struggle, Fluttershy sighed in resignation and quietly confessed, "My dream is to build a real animal sanctuary."

"A real one?" Marshall inquired, wondering what she meant.

"Mm-hm," Fluttershy confirmed with a nod of her head, before her gaze drifted away from him and began to stare into the distance. "I want to build a beautiful habitat, where every animal, whether sick, scared or even just lonely, feathered or furry, scaly or slimy, would be welcome. My sanctuary would be the one place in Equestria that they could call home till they feel ready to take on the world."

Discord reached into Fluttershy's ear with two fingers and grasped something between them, and she let out an, "Eep," as he drew out what appeared to be some kind of fabric that was as large as a tablecloth and square in shape. He got to his feet and held it up by two corners, revealing a picture of what she had been envisioning in her mind when talking about the sanctuary. While she bashfully hid her face behind her hooves, Marshall examined the scenic image set against a forest and waterfall, which had the plunge pool as the centerpiece and — naturally — a stream running through the sanctuary. There were various places for animals to live, rest, play and do whatever certain species did with themselves. It was as heartwarming as it was charming.

Once Discord had gotten a good look at it himself, he appeared to be baffled, and possibly a bit hurt, as he spoke to Fluttershy. "You've never mentioned this to me before."

Fluttershy turned her head away from him and looked down guiltily. "I, well... I didn't want you to think that I was trying to take advantage of your abilities."

Discord regarded her with a perplexed expression on his face. "Why would you think that?"

"Because," Fluttershy began, who paused and started to fidget with her forehooves when she couldn't formulate a clear explanation quickly enough. "Um..."

Unable to resist helping her out, partly due to being able to read the situation and relate to it, Marshall made a point of directing his attention to the clueless Discord and said, "When someone cares enough about something, their worry for it might create a problem that wouldn't otherwise exist."

Discord blinked his eyes owlishly, then turned an inquisitive look toward Fluttershy. "Really? Is that how it is?"

Despite her obvious embarrassment, Fluttershy managed to meet his gaze and nod her head resolutely before earnestly saying, "I never told you because... I wanted to be the kind of friend that you needed. Princess Celestia wanted you to be reformed, so you would be willing to use your magic to help us, but I didn't want there to be any doubt in your mind that our friendship was forged apart from that." By then the blush on her cheeks had disappeared, but she was no less emotionally-invested as she continued. "She said that you had to offer your magic to us of your own free will, so the last thing I wanted to do was ask you to help me with something personal and risk giving you the wrong impression. I didn't want you to think that we were only friends because of what you can do with your magic."

Touched by her words, Discord dropped the image that Fluttershy had envisioned in her mind and assumed a solemness in his expression and bearing that Marshall figured was rare for him. "Fluttershy... Before Twilight Sparkle included me in her trade with Tirek, I considered you the only real friend I had. Well..." He turned his head aside in embarrassment and scratched the side of his face. "Until I was offered a chance to enjoy the old days again." Regaining his composure, he reestablished eye contact with Fluttershy and said, "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is: you don't have to worry about that. Friends can help each other, right?"

Both happy and relieved, Fluttershy smiled softly, nodded her head and echoed her agreement. "Right."

Marshall levitated the cloth that Discord had discarded and proffered it to him with an expectant look on his face. Getting the message, Discord perked up and accepted it before returning his attention to Fluttershy. "Was there any place in particular that you wanted to set this up at?"

Excited by the offer being made, Fluttershy leapt from her chair and rushed to the door, which she opened and hurried through without saying a word. Discord, despite being a little startled by her behavior, snapped his fingers and disappeared a second later. It took a few seconds more for Marshall to make the decision to follow them, worried that he might be a third wheel. However, he was curious about Discord's power, didn't feel comfortable being alone in someone else's home, had no idea how long Fluttershy would be gone, and still wanted to have a proper chat with her.

Fortunately, Fluttershy's yellow coat stood out against the grass, dirt and trees, and Discord was flying above her, so he was able to follow them to their destination. That turned out to be a small hill that overlooked a familiar stream, although he wouldn't have recognized it if he hadn't just seen it depicted on the cloth that Discord had pulled out of Fluttershy's ear. He almost couldn't believe it despite that, since there was a major detail missing: the waterfall.

When he reached them, and stopped beside Fluttershy, Discord was holding the cloth up, in such a way that it blocked their view of the prospective sanctuary site. He was unsure whether they noticed him or not, but it was quickly made evident that his presence wasn't going to derail whatever Discord was currently doing.

"Now," Discord began, who seemed confident yet gave Marshall the impression that at least some of his confidence was a facade, "is this exactly what you want?"

Fluttershy, who was brimming with barely-contained eagerness, readily replied, "Oh, yes! It's been such a long time since I've been able to think of anything to add or change to the sanctuary."

Discord proceeded to toss the cloth aside with a flourish, and its trajectory went unnoticed because of what was revealed behind it: exactly what they had just been looking at on the cloth. Marshall's jaw dropped as he stared in shock. While moving the sun had certainly been an unbelievable feat, at least he could imagine the kind of forces involved. Here, he had no idea how Discord had made such a change without it being noticeable, as if the new sanctuary had been there all along. The waterfall was especially mind-boggling, considering how high it was and thus how far the unseen part of the new stream might have to go to reach a constant source of water that was high enough for gravity to make it functional.

He didn't know how long he had been in a stupor, but Fluttershy's voice eventually brought him out of it, just in time to see her launch herself at Discord and hug him while thanking him profusely, her words strained by emotion. Discord was initially surprised by the action, but eventually reciprocated the hug and looked down at her fondly. The moment they were having made him feel a little uncomfortable, a bit like an intruder, so he tried to make himself unobtrusive by quietly turning away from them and setting his attention elsewhere, hoping it would offer some semblance of privacy without doing anything that would interrupt them.

After a minute or so, he finally heard Fluttershy gasp and say, "Oh! Recherché!" After he turned back around to face her mortified visage, she continued. "I am so sorry!"

Before she could say any more, he held out a hoof to stop her and assured, "I understand, so don't worry about it." Glad that she just looked embarrassed now, he turned his attention to Discord, who was looking rather unsure of himself, and added, "I'm just glad that someone was able to help make your dream become a reality."

Discord regained his composure, which Marshall could only assume was due to avoiding the subject of his behavior with Fluttershy, and casually stated, "Well, it was the least I could do for a friend."

"How did you do that, anyway?" Marshall couldn't help inquiring, his curiosity greatly piqued. As far as a cartoon universe went, what he had seen so far had been relatively sensible, but Discord's antics seemed more at home with cartoons like the Looney Tunes. "You only blocked our view for a few seconds, and in that time it's like you created something out of nothing."

Appearing to be surprised by the question, Discord teleported over to Marshall and lowered his head so he could whisper conspiratorially. "Now that," he paused to make a show out of looking for eavesdroppers, then raised an index finger between them and waggled it, "is a secret!"

Marshall stared in disbelief as Discord teleported back from whence he came, suspecting that the reference he had made was only unique to his world's culture. He would have to check to be sure, but he had the feeling that Discord had just demonstrated more of his abilities in response to his inquiry about said abilities, which — if his expression said anything — had clearly amused him.

Before he could recover enough to think of something else to say, Fluttershy remembered what the sanctuary was supposed to be for and ran off to gather her animal friends, in order to introduce them to it. He caught Discord staring after her, with a small, gentle smile, which lasted until he noticed the attention.

"What?" Came Discord's somewhat defensive response.

Not wanting to prod a potential bee hive, especially after seeing what Discord was able to do, Marshall stuck with what was comfortable and tried to be placating with his delivery of, "Sorry. I'm still trying to wrap my head around what you can do."

Discord waved a hand dismissively. "You haven't even seen what I'm really capable of." He proceeded to cross his arms and look a mite petulant. "I'd show you, just to see the look on your face, but I seriously doubt that the scale of such a demonstration would be appreciated."

Seeing that he had somehow stumbled upon another touchy subject, he cautiously asked, "How come?"

Staring at Marshall as if he'd asked a stupid question, Discord replied, "You do know that I'm a spirit of chaos, right?"

Marshall shook his head.

"Well, now you know," Discord carelessly said, before turning away and motioning toward the world at large with both arms. "And this harmony-centric land doesn't care much for my brand of fun."

Tempted to leave it at that, and hoping that Fluttershy wouldn't take too long to return, Marshall didn't immediately reply. However, Discord's situation and powers were too intriguing to not think about, and they seemed like a combination that could lead to trouble down the road, if they weren't suitably addressed. Discord had once been an enemy of Equestria, after all, so the potential for a relapse to that mindset wasn't a stretch, especially since he'd relapsed once already. Disillusionment could throw a big wrench into the early stages of adaptation, and that could easily inspire a variety of negative feelings, which could lead to the kind of behavior that Equestrians would no doubt wish to avoid as a consequence.

In the end, he couldn't ignore someone who was having trouble fitting in: because it was something that he could strongly relate to, even if the reason for Discord being out of place was foreign to him. So, after some contemplation, he called out to Discord to wake him up, who had seemingly fallen asleep on his feet while he had been preoccupied with his thoughts. Discord jerked awake, who smacked his lips a few times and blinked his eyelids out of sync while the Zs that had been drifting away from his head rode off on lambs instead of reaching the point where they popped out of existence.

"Are we there, yet?" Discord asked, before yawning and absently scratching underneath a wing.

Ignoring that, Marshall inquired, "How are you feeling about your reformation?"

Discord hadn't expected that kind of question, because it took him a few seconds to narrow his eyes in suspicion and reply, "Why do you ask?"

Marshall mentally clamped down on his nerves and hoped that he wouldn't run out of luck trying to help yet another stranger who could do who-knows-what to him if things went south. Idly, he wondered when he'd gotten so much nerve to be this open and direct when he wanted to help someone. "Well, based on what I've heard and seen so far, it didn't look like you were completely happy with your situation." In light of the cocked eyebrow being directed at him, and the accompanying look that told him he had assumed the guise of Captain Obvious, he awkwardly forged ahead. "I was kinda, well..." Having some trouble finding his words, he lamely finished with, "I was just wondering if I could help in some way."

Discord clasped his hands over his mouth, making it apparent that he was bursting at the seams with amusement. That was made literal when one of his sides suddenly tore open and a mass of batting burst free. He collapsed in a fit of laughter immediately afterward, but before long he pulled out a thread and needle from somewhere and tried to sew himself up. While he attempted to do that, despite all the shakes and spasms from his laughter, he managed to get out, "Look at what you've done! You have me in stitches!"

Feeling his face heat up and adrenaline spike, Marshall restrained his reaction to turning his back on Discord and sitting down, trying to keep his mind clear as he waited for Fluttershy's return. He didn't notice when the laughing stopped, so focused was he on ignoring Discord and keeping his cool, but he certainly noticed him when his face appeared from above and blocked his view.

"So," Discord casually began, as if nothing of note had just happened between them, "what did you have in mind to help me?"

Marshall stared at Discord incredulously, and had half a mind to snap at his audacity. However, he knew that wouldn't lead anywhere good or productive, so he sighed and rose to all four hooves, with Discord standing upright at the same time. After turning around to face him, he allowed himself a calming breath before speaking, because what he hoped to say came from a personal place.

"First," he began, opting to fish for some information first, "are you expected to give up being chaotic?"

Discord opened his mouth to reply, then shut it and frowned before trying again. "Actually, I'm not sure."

"Do you know how the enforcers of your reformation feel about what you do?" Marshall followed up with.

"I know that Fluttershy doesn't really mind," Discord easily replied, before turning more thoughtful. "Pinkie Pie isn't bothered, but that's no surprise, really. The others tolerate my antics, but only to an extent."

Giving Discord a more piercing look, Marshall asked, "What about princess Celestia, since it was her idea to reform you?"

Discord furrowed his brow and stroked his beard as he thought about it. "Well, I heard that she enjoyed the last gala, even though my friend got ooze all over the place and I threatened to send someone to another dimension..."

Marshall suppressed his curiosity about the aforementioned event and got to the point, relieved that he could make it. "I think what you need is an outlet to be yourself, so others can get to know and accept who you are instead of only conforming to what others want."

Perking up with obvious interest, Discord said, "Oh? Did you have anything in mind?"

Despite his limited interaction with Discord, Marshall felt fairly confident that he had gotten a good enough read of his character to come up with an idea that was both suitable and promising. "I was thinking that you could ask a princess about setting up and running an amusement park." Noticing the intense look of contemplation and excitement on Discord's face, who was probably thinking about the things that he could do with an amusement park, he momentarily raised his voice before continuing, to try and interrupt those thoughts and bring him back down to earth. "Just be sure that you're not the only one who gets to have fun, and your visitors know what they're getting into."

Discord snapped his fingers and disappeared a second after he had finished speaking, giving no indication that he had heard him or planned to heed his words. He began to worry that he might have made a mistake with his suggestion, and his doubt made him wonder what had compelled him to offer his help so forwardly in the first place. Sure, he liked to help people when he could, especially if he could be discreet about it, if not completely unknown, but as of late he had been something of a busybody. Was it the circumstances that brought this out of him, or was it something else?

A few minutes later Fluttershy returned with an entourage of animals. She was too absorbed with them to notice him, or that Discord was absent, as she happily chatted with them and showed them around the sanctuary. While she did that, he was content to watch and admire her, which was a lot better than worrying about Discord or himself.

It didn't last, of course, and Fluttershy eventually got back to him and asked about Discord's whereabouts. With some hesitation, he replied that he might have given Discord the idea to set up an amusement park. Rather than worry about it like he was, she seemed more intrigued than anything, and looked forward to seeing what he would come up with.

After that they made their way back to her house, where they returned to their cooled cups of tea and restarted their chat. With Fluttershy glowing with happiness, she turned out to be more loquacious than Marshall would have expected of her, and he had a pleasant time talking about mostly-inconsequential things for what could have been an hour. He would have preferred spending a bit more time with her, but not only did he have one more obligation to see to before it got too late, but Fluttershy wanted to tell Dr. Fauna about the sanctuary before taking care of one of her own commitments.

While Fluttershy took flight from her doorstep, Marshall set off at a trot until he could get a look at the clock tower. When he saw that it was a quarter to four, he slowed to a walk, knowing that he'd have plenty of time to meet Sweetie Belle and her friends at their clubhouse, who would be expecting him thanks to Cookie Crumbles offering to catch them at the school when it let out.

He reflected on his time with Fluttershy until Twilight Sparkle's castle entered his field of vision and the large star at the top reminded him of Discord's clue, since said star reminded him of her cutie mark. Then he stopped dead in his tracks after thinking about it for a few seconds, as the clue and the castle brought certain ideas together that made him think of something that couldn't be mere coincidence. When he considered everything else that was relevant to his investigation, with some things he was only able to recall — and thus include — because of their recentness and his attention to the matter in general, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

Mouth dry, he wondered what he should do with his discovery. He didn't think that revealing it to Rarity or her friends would be a good idea, because there was no telling if the knowledge would cause any problems or not. What Rarity hoped to accomplish was so profound that there was no question in his mind that he should exercise a lot of caution with what he believed was going on.

Despite being in a bit of a daze, he eventually got himself moving again, deciding that he could spare some time to determine a course of action after seeing Sweetie Belle. After thinking about the meeting that he was going to have with her for a moment, he wondered if she could answer a new question that he had about Rarity's cutie mark.