Scotch Muffin

by TheFoxern

First published 14th of February, 2013

Scotch Muffin, a filly too smart for her own good, has run away. Into the Everfree Forest of all places. Not the place she expected to make a friend, or find an adventure.

Scotch Muffin is fed up with being bossed around by bigger ponies who think they're smarter than her. They aren't smarter, and she's out to prove them wrong. Or maybe prove something to herself, as she sets off into the Everfree Forest. Which is not the most friendly place for a little filly. But even the Everfree Forest has it's good points. Like an odd friend, an even odder way out, and an adventure.

Inspired by The Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland.

((This story has been roughly edited.))
Author Note: Sorry if this doesn't fit to your interpretation of comedy, but, I think it's funny and I try to write it silly. Anyways, this got quite a bit of no love when I put through the first version, so I took it down, and completely re-did it. Changed the entire story, the only thing I kept the same was the main pony, which I liked too much to simply let go of. Hopefully it wasn't her that people disliked. But it doesn't matter, I only started writing it because I needed a break from Pony of the Gears. But, when I saw how much people disliked it, I took it down and decided to actually make it a story.

1: Little Hooves

What's odder than having hooves? Probably nothing. Then again, it's hard to know any different when you've always had hooves. But this was the current distraction that Scotch Muffin had chosen. Why hooves? What exactly did hooves do for you? Sure, they were what you used to walk, but they made holding anything difficult. On that subject, why did everypony always insist on holding things with their hooves? They've no grip strength and to really hold anything properly it has to either be placed on the flat of the hoof, or held with both.

It was easy to distract yourself when walking through the Everfree Forest. Not so scary when you don't think about it. Hooves were a good subject. She just had to keep thinking of other things; like what she brought with her. Hooves were one, and then there was the little pack she had. It had taken her nearly ten minutes to get it on by herself. Suddenly she looked ahead and shuddered. She had thought sen something cross the path ahead. “Jeez this place is creepy...” she mumbled. It was not her first choice for where to run away to, but it was the only one she was sure they wouldn't come after her.

The worst part about distracting yourself so you don't watch where you're going, is that you're not watching where you're going. Which means you get lost. Which she was. She was very lost. But how could you be lost when you had no destination? That thought cheered her up slightly. Only slightly. Was the orphanage really better than this place? She shook off that thought. Any place was better than there. She was certain she could be at the bottom of a hole, with creepy little crawly things and still think it better. Actually that's a decent description of the orphanage, minus everything else bad that happened there.

“No. This is better,” she said, taking a deep breath. Even the air didn't feel good here. A gust of wind made her shiver and she looked back. Several yellow glowing eyes stared back at her. She whimpered softly as she looked back ahead. Distraction. She needed another distraction. What was in her pack again? An apple, some carrots, a rope, a few candles, no matches. She didn't need matches. Her eyes crossed as she tried to look at her horn, of course, she couldn't see it. All it seemed good for was lighting fires. But she had gotten good enough at it to light candles. She could even light two candles at once.

She could do anything she wanted, now that she had escaped. There was no limit to who she could be. She just had to get through the forest... “And who's this little filly?” The voice sent a shiver up and then back down her spine, but she kept walking. “Come here, Little Filly...please come here...”

“Leave me alone.” Even though she tried to sound confident, the terror was evident in her voice. But she had to remember that it only got you if you went to it. She had no idea what it was, but moving away from it had seemed to work every time. The first few times she had ran, but now, she just kept walking.

“Such little hooves you have...Little Filly...” The sound of the voice was etched with fangs; big gnashing fangs. They clicked as it spoke. “Come here little filly...no need to be scared...”

“I'm not afraid of you,” she lied, but it made her feel better to. It had not spoken for an hour, and she was hoping that it had left her alone.

“You're going the wrong way, Little Filly...” the thing said. It sounded amused.

“You don't know where I'm going,” she retorted, taking a deep breath. The more it talked, the less scary it was.

“But I do, Little Filly...I know exactly where you're going...” The worst part was that it sounded like it came from a different direction every time it spoke. Every pause it took, it came up somewhere else.

“Liar.” If she didn't know where she was going, how could it? She stumbled over a rock and kicked it off to the side out of frustration.

“Oh but I do...Little Filly...you're a lost...Little...Filly...”

“You, are a liar.” It was more annoying than frightening now. That was good. Now she was annoyed and not scared. Being annoyed is better than being scared. “I am not lost.”

“You should not lie...not to me...” She almost hesitated when the voice was ahead of her, but she just had to keep walking.

“You're the liar, not me.” She stomped her hooves as she walked, daring the thing to show itself. There was no response. Nor was there a response for several minutes. “Are you still there, liar?” She looked back behind her and slowed to a stop. There weren't any little yellow eyes behind her now, or off to the side. “I must be close to the other side...” She started trotting forward again. “I know they don't like going near the edges.”

But what she found instead, was a ravine. She looked down into it and all she could see was the whiteness of fog. She looked around, spotting a rope bridge a little ways away. She moved towards it and gulped as she prodded it gently with her hoof. She paused, looking at her hoof a moment. Her hooves weren't small, were they? Every filly she knew had hooves this size, but- a twig snapped behind her and she ran. When she stopped, she realized she was on the other side of the bridge, panting and looking back across.

There was nothing there. “Stupid...thing...snapping...twigs...” She kicked at the post of the bridge; it snapped. She froze, watching as the whole bridge fell away. “That could have fallen when I was on it,” she muttered. She looked down into the depths as the bridge disappeared from sight. She waited, and waited, but there was no sound of it hitting any kind of bottom. She gulped again. “Ok...keep it together girl,” she said as she shook herself. “Keep moving...we don't want to go that way anyways...not at all...never.” The area ahead looked just like what had been on the other side of the bridge, but it felt different. She took a deep breath and began walking once again.

A sudden growl made her jump several hooves into the air and run quite a distance before she realized what it had been her own stomach. That made her feel...a bit foolish. She pulled a carrot out of her pack and munched on it. She was holding it in two hooves. Hooves were so useless for holding things. But as she chewed thoughtfully on the carrot, she started to notice things. The trees here looked...nicer. There didn't seem to be anything in any of the bushes nearby and it almost felt safe...

In fact, it did feel safe. Or at least not dangerous. That kind of worried her. “Maybe nothing crosses the ravine?” she said, finishing the carrot and standing back up. There was probably still a long way to go. At least now she felt better about traveling and the creepy voice thing was gone.

A soft clip clop noise echoed around her and she froze a moment, looking around. Then she looked down and sighed. This was a stone street. She nudged some of the cobblestones with her hoof. They felt worn down, yet smooth. “Is this a road?” Her voice echoed in a way that caused her to shiver. It was hard to tell if it was her echo, or something echoing her. “Hello?” she tried. The lack of echo was more frightening than the echo. Echoes don't just not happen. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello?” Again there was no echo. A shiver ran down her spine, and she began trotting forward, down the road again. Her hooves echoed. Or...she looked behind her; there was nothing there. It sounded almost like somepony was following her. Ahead, there was nothing but the cobble road, which grew more and more apparent that it had been a road, with even a slight railing raising out of the ground at the sides.

But it was not well used and it was overgrown. She was sure that if she laid flat, she could probably hide behind some of the tufts of grass. The feeling someone was looking at her made her turn around. When she did, she froze. There, a ways away, but nonetheless there, stood herself. It was hard to not recognize yourself. Her amber coat, her purple mane, and those sharp orange eyes. “Hi,” herself said, smiling at her.

“First off...I do not smile like that,” Scotch said, taking a few steps back.

“But I do,” said her double, as it started to approach, matching her step for step. “I have a lot to smile about. Because you're here now.”

Scotch had a feeling she could outrun her, or at least not get caught by her. It depended on how much like her she actually was. Goodness her thoughts were getting confusing. “What's that supposed to mean...”

She tilted her head slightly to the side. “I don't know. But you're the first pony I've ever seen.”

“Never looked in a mirror?” Scotch said, with a satisfying amount of sarcasm. Which seemed to pass right over her head.

“What's a mirror?” she asked, still approaching. “I don't think I've seen one of those either.” There was something off about her voice. Something...wrong.

“It's a thing you use to see yourself in...” She hesitated, she didn't want to back up anymore; she didn't know what was behind her. But when she stopped, so did she. “What are you? You can't be me, because I'm me and I know what a mirror is.”

She hesitated and then sat down. “I don't know. I'm not you, I'm me.”

“Well, you look like me.” Scotch took a step forward and she took a step back.

“Do I? I don't think that's what I usually look like...but...” She blinked several times. “I don't know.”

Scotch sat down, and so did she. She was copying her. It was like staring into a mirror. “Well... Do you think you could try being you and not being me?”

“I...can try,” she said and there was a green flash, revealing somepony much, much taller than Scotch and colored black. Not so much a coat, as a soft shell. Frills instead of a mane, and insect like wings. Two tattered looking ears, and a horn between them. But what Scotch couldn't stop staring at, was the two long fangs and those pale green eyes. Though the holes in it's hooves were quite disturbing as well.

2: Cookie

“What...what are you?” Scotch said, walking slowly around him. He was odd to look at, but he wasn't scary. Not scary at all. Perhaps under other circumstances he would have been terrifying, but that expression he had, made that very difficult. It was one of simple bliss. As one with no problems, no cares, no worries. And probably no thoughts more than, 'what's this?'

But it shifted into one of confusion. “What do you mean? Aren't I a pony? Like you?”

She shook her head, stopping front of him. Now he had a look of concern. “No...you're not a pony...what's your name?” His expression slowly went blank. “Your name?” she prompted again. “What you call yourself?”

He blinked. “I don't know. I've...never needed to have something to call myself. You're the first pony I've met...” He paused. “Are you sure I'm not a pony?” His tone was almost pleading.

“Uhm...” She hesitated, those large eyes seemed so puppy like. It was a little disturbing. “Maybe...” she said after calculating other answers. “The world is big...you might be a pony from somewhere that...” She paused and then waved a hoof in the air. “I have no idea.”

However, he brightened up at this. “So I could be a pony?” She nodded slowly. She had to admit that it was possible. She had never seen something like him and for all she knew he was a pony. “Good. I was worried I wasn't...then I wouldn't know what I was...”

“So, you know you're a pony...but you don't know what your name is?” Something was really odd about him, besides how he looked. She almost felt safe around him.

“I don't know...I don't remember ever having a name...” He looked up at the sky; the sun was going down. “It's getting dark...”

“Uhm...” She looked back the way she was heading and turned back to see him only a few hooves away from her. She back peddled away quickly, trying to keep herself from running. But he wasn't looking at her, he was looking behind him, the way she had come.

“It isn't safe in the dark...the dark is bad.” He sounded so much like a child, but he looked full grown.

“Amnesia...” she said slowly.

“What?” He looked back at her. “What's a nezia and why am you one?”

She stared at him and then blinked. “No, amnesia. It's something I read about...it...” She was about to explain, but then remembered her audience. “It means not being able to remember things...”

“So I am a...nezia?” he said, his brow wrinkling slightly as he tried to figure it out.

“No no, I think you have amnesia. Because you can't remember things.” It was like talking to some of the ponies in class, she had to try so hard to explain words to them.

“I have amnesia,” he said slowly and then nodded. “Alright...so I have amnesia because I can't remember anything...like my name.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”

“Do I need a name?” he said, looking at her and then looked around.

She paused, that was a good question. Does one need a name? Then she nodded slowly. “Yes...I think that you do.”

He thought a moment, staring into nothingness. After a minute of this, she was about to speak before he said, “Cookie.”

Silence for another moment. “What?”

“My name. I want it to be Cookie.” He smiled at her, almost grinning. Those teeth were sharp.

“You...” She tried not to look at his teeth. “You want your name to be Cookie?” she said and he nodded vigorously. “Alright...I suppose that's not a bad name...” Then a thought crossed her mind, “Where did you hear that word?”

“I...” He paused, again he looked like there was a lot of thought going on. “I... Remember somepony saying...I want a cookie...” He smiled a bit. “And I would like to be wanted.”

That caused her to pause and stare at him. That made sense she supposed, though it was an oddly cute thing to say. “Alright, Cookie...is...there anywhere around that we could go that wont be dark?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling.

She waited, looking at him. Then she realized. “Can we go there now, please? I don't want to be out here in the dark.”

“Yes.” This time when he said it, he started to trot in the direction that Scotch had been going. And as they went, she noticed that he seemed to trot oddly, in a sort of happy, slow way.

It didn't take them long before Scotch saw where they were going. It was a large building. A large, old, stone building, which looked to be crumbling down. She recognized it as soon as she saw it, from old books in the library. “That's...the old palace...”

“Palace?” Cookie looked back at her, slowing his pace slightly. He looked at it. “What's a palace?”

“It's a...large building of importance.” She decided that that was a good an explanation as any. “It's where Princess Celestia and Princess Luna used to live...though it's been abandoned for a very, very long time...”

“Why was it abandoned?” he said, staring from her, up to it.

“I...don't know. The book didn't say.” And it hadn't. It merely said that it was abandoned by Celestia after Luna's banishment. It never went into details as to why, but ponies guess that it had something to do with whatever caused the Everfree Forest. She paused. “You know what abandoned means?”

He blinked, and then nodded. “Yes...it means everypony left.”

That was odd. He had an odd memory. Obviously he had been decently educated and he understood more than he didn't. “Amnesia is weird...” she said, looking at the castle. It was truly rundown, but...there was one window that poured out light. “What's that light?”

“Candles,” he said, as they reached the stairs and he took them carefully. Scotch found out why, when one of them gave out on her and fell away. It fell a long way and ended with a splash. She gulped and Cookie picked her up. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah...just...need to be more careful is all...I...didn't expect there to be something like that...” She had been too busy looking up to look at what the stairs were going over. Which was a sort of moat.

“Yeah things fall all the time...sometimes on me...” he said, frowning slightly.

A thought occurred to her. “Maybe that caused your amnesia!” She smiled a bit. “Have you been hit in the head?”

“The head?” he replied, and looked thoughtful a moment. “I...don't remember getting hit in the head...”

“Ah, well...” She nodded knowingly. “You wouldn't, it would have been gone too...did you wake up in the palace with no memory?”

He shook his head slowly. “No...” She frowned slightly and he looked panicked. “Is that wrong? Am I supposed to have woken up here?”

She sighed softly and shrugged. “I don't know...it would have made sense...what's the first thing you can remember, that-” She froze as they entered the main hall. It was huge, large pillars lined the room, many of which had collapsed, and the roof had caved in in many places where they had.

“First thing I can remember?” he said slowly, staring blankly again. “Flying through the air...I...I hurt all over and then I crashed through there,” He pointed his hoof to part of the ceiling that looked like it had fallen recently, “And I...went to sleep.”

It took a few minutes before she managed to pull her gaze away from the impressive nature of this place. “And...that's the first thing you remember? Falling and being in pain?”

He nodded sadly, looking at the ground. “Sorry...it's probably not helpful.”

She shook her head. “No no, Cookie, you can't help when you get amnesia. It just happens.” She smiled a bit. “Now...” It was really starting to get dark. “Where are those candles?”

Suddenly Cookie brightened up. “This way,” he said and started to trot down a hallway. Scotch had to almost run to keep up with him. Her short legs could only move so fast. “Through here.” He pushed open a door and warmth spilled into the hallway.

Inside, it was warm. Nice. Cozy. There was nothing in the room, but a table and a few chairs. And hundreds of lit candles. Hundreds. They covered almost ever available surface. They were even stuck on the walls with melted wax. There was also wax everywhere, the floor was covered in it. “Wow...” It was an impressive sight.

He trotted through the candles and went under the table. Which had no candles under it and the only bit of floor that one could actually see. “I like being under here,” Cookie said, smiling at her.

Scotch picked her way slowly through the room, trying not to be burned by the candles. “Why did you light so many of them?” she said, staring around.

“Light them?” he said, tilting his head to the side. “I didn't light them...I was just wandering around and saw the light from the window.”

“So you just...came in?” she said, moving under the table with him. It was comfortable here and when she sat down, she realized how tired she was.

“Should I not have?” he said, slightly panicked again. “I...I haven't seen any other pony around...but somepony replaces the candles when I leave sometimes, cus sometimes they go out, but then new candles are there the next time I look.”

She moved closer to him, looking around the room. It was bright, but not blindingly so and the candles gave off a lot of heat. It was pleasant. Comfortable. “No...it's fine that you came in. It...feels safe.”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes. I like it a lot.” She yawned, nodding. “Are you tired?” he asks, laying down and smiling slightly.

“Yeah...I've...been walking all day,” she said, looking at him. He had his eyes closed and that blissful expression again. The floor was cold and she moved closer to him. She placed her hoof against him, he was surprisingly warm. Warmer than the room. “You're very warm...”

His eyes opened, and he looked at her. “I am?” He looked down at himself and placed a hoof to his side. He frowned. “I can't tell...”

She leaned against him, yawning again. “I'm so sleepy...” she said, breathing deeply. It was such a nice place.

3: Adventure

Scotch woke up and stretched with a yawn. She was warm and comfortable. But...where was she? She blinked in the light of hundreds of candles as the fog of sleep slowly peeled back. Her gaze fell downward onto what she had been sleeping on. Cookie. Who was laying quite still, apparently asleep. At least, his eyes were closed so she assumed he was sleeping. Surely he had to sleep, so surely that was what he was doing. “Cookie?” She nudged him gently with a hoof.

His eyes shot open and he stared blankly at candles. Then he blinked and looked up at her. “Yes?”

She looked at him as she got down onto the floor. Probably was a bit rude to try and hold a conversation while sitting on somepony. “Uhm...” We can't just stay here forever, we'll starve... We have to move on, see if we can get through the forest. “I think we should get going...”

He stretched out on the floor, yawning. “Going where?” he said, as his head tilted to the side.

There was a brief hesitation. “Well, I was trying to head through the forest...to get to the other side.”

His head slowly slumped to the other side. “Through the forest? Why?”

“I...I don't know. It was just the best plan I had thought of.” In fact now that she thought about it, it wasn't a very good plan. Try and go through the dangerous forest in the hopes that there's something worth all the trouble on the other side.

Silence filled the room, before Cookie nodded and smiled. “Alright.” He stood up and hit his head on the table. He didn't move for a moment and then sat down. “Ow.” He rubbed the back of his head.

Scotch put a hoof over her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Are you ok?” she managed.

“Yeah...I forgot we were under the table...” He moved out from under it this time before standing up straight. “But...what did you think you were going to find on the other side of the forest?”

She hesitated, looking at him. “I...” She looked down at the floor, and then up at him again. “It's a bit silly to be honest...” She sighed.

He tilted his head to the side slightly. “Silly? Why would it be silly?”

“I...well...” Her hoof kicked vaguely at some wax on the floor. “I though that I might...I dunno...find a home, or something...”

“A home?” His head tilted further.

She stared blankly at him and then sighed again. “Yes. A home. A place to live. Somewhere I...I don't know...belong, or something...it seems so silly now.”

“I don't think it's silly,” he said as he smiled at her. “Not silly at all. Everypony wants somewhere to belong.” His brow wrinkled slightly. “But why on the other side of the forest?”

“I don't know...” She sighed heavily, staring down at the candles. “It seemed like a good idea at the time...but I'm starting to think that it isn't...”

“I think it was,” he said, smiling again. “If you hadn't, I'd still be alone, though I didn't know I was.”

She smiled a bit, looking up at him. “Yeah...and I'd still be...stuck where I was.”

He grinned and nodded. “Exactly. Now, come on, let's go. No point sitting around here anymore.”

They both moved towards the door. “Though these candles are...so weird...it's probably magic that keeps them lit...”

“Probably. But I dunno. It could be ghosts or something.” He smiled at her. Nothing seemed to frighten him at all. But it would be nice to find out what he was.

Then a thought dawned on her. “Oh. I never told you my name, did I?”

He paused and stared blankly at the ceiling. “Nnnnnope.” He smiled back at her. “What's your name?”

“Scotch Muffin,” she said, and he got a thoughtful look on his face.

“Scotch...Muffin...well, I like muffin's, I think...but what's scotch?” His head tilted to the side as he stared at her with that confused look on his face.

“It's...” She hesitated and then sighed. “It's an alcoholic drink and also a type of candy.”

He paused, looking at her. One could practically see the gears turning inside his head. “So...you're an alcoholic pastry, or a candy pastry?”

There was silence for a moment and Scotch wondered if he was trying to be adorable, or was it just natural? “Yes...I suppose that I am.”

A grin spread across his face. “Awesome. I'll hafta try scotch. Or some other kind of alcoholic drink. What other kinds are there?”

She hesitated and then shrugged. “A lot.” They came out the back of the palace and she looked back up. For a moment, she could see the window of the candle room and just for a moment she could have sworn that there was somepony in the window. But it was gone the second she blinked and she couldn't be sure it was ever there.

“Just a lot?” His brow wrinkled as he thought that over. He looked at her and then up at the palace. “Whatcha looking at?”

“I...” She shook her head, and turned away. “It was nothing...I think...” That had been a bit disturbing, but this forest was full of ridiculous things. Although...she had slept in that room. She shuddered. “Let's go...this place is creepy.”

He tilted his head to the side as he followed after her. “Why is it creepy?”

“I...it just gives me the creeps. It makes me feel uncomfortable.” She looked back at the palace a moment and then back ahead.

“Uncomfortable?” He tilted his head slightly. “Well, I suppose that the floor is a bit uncomfortable, but you slept atop me.”

She couldn't help the blush that crept onto her cheeks. “Ah...yes...sorry about that.”

Again, he grinned. “I could not protest. You looked so comfortable...and I don't mind. It was...comforting.”

He was gazing off into the distance with a fairly blissful expression when she looked at him. “Well...you are quite warm...”

“Am I?” he said as his gaze traveled to her.

She cleared her throat, and nodded. “Yes...anyways...I...suppose we go this way?” There was what was left of a road that stretched off into the distance.

“Yes!” He trotted happily ahead a bit. “To adventure!”

A smile crept onto her face as she watched him. “Yes. Adventure...” She took a deep breath. And hopefully somewhere safe and not so creepy. Cookie's happy demeanor seemed so off from the area around him. It was like he carried his own little torch and things just brightened up around him.

They walked for quite a long time, it felt like hours to Scotch. It was like this forest really was never ending like stories said, but books also said that there were places on the other side. “Little filly...” A shiver ran down her spine and she looked behind her. Surely it could not have found her already?

“Hm?” Cookie stopped, looking around. “Who's that?”

“Did you make a friend little filly?”

Cookie's face scrunched slightly as he thought. “Where are you?” he said as he looked around.

There was silence for a time and Scotch was hopeful that it may have left. After all, she wasn't alone now. “Where are you?” the voice repeated.

His face went blank a moment and he blinked. “Right here, of course. But I don't see where you are.”

“You want to see?”

Scotch moved closer to Cookie, looking around. “Cookie, I think we should keep moving and ignore it...”

He looked at her. “But that would be rude. Wouldn't it?” He turned back to the bushes. “Yes. It's only right to see who you're speaking with.” He smiled blissfully again. “Right?”

There was silence again. Was it hesitating? Did Cookie make it unsure of itself? Scotch clung to this idea. It didn't know what Cookie was either and wasn't sure if it should come out. Maybe it wouldn't come out. Maybe it would just leave. The voice didn't sound friendly when it spoke. “Who are you to ask such a thing...”

“Cookie,” Cookie said simply, grinning. He had the air of someone who obviously thought he had won something. Scotch couldn't help but smile.

But there was silence in return.

He frowned slightly. “You're not very nice. Wont answer my questions. Wont come out. You're rude.” He suddenly started walking on and Scotch scrabbled to follow after him.

Fear. It wanted to be feared. But Cookie didn't fear anything, or probably didn't understand what fear was. “It's been following me for a long time.”

“And you haven't seen it?” He looked at her as they walked. She shook her head. “That's rude.” He used that word as though he had just discovered it's meaning.

She couldn't help but smile, and nod. “Yeah. It is rude. Following a little filly and trying to scare her is very rude.”

“I don't think I like...whatever it is,” he said with a stiff nod. “But there's no need to be scared. Just cus something is scary, doesn't mean you should be scared of it. Just means that it's scary.” He gave her a smile. In fact, he was so occupied looking at her that he wasn't looking where he was going and walked straight into the door.

4: Door

A door. Just a door. The path had been leading to a door. “Well...at least you didn't walk off the cliff...” Scotch said as she peered over the edge. It looked like just a mass of green at the bottom. Trees. Nothing but trees. But behind the door? Nothing. Cookie came up beside her, looking down. “You...can fly, right?” she said, slowly stepping away from the edge.

“Hm?” He looked at her and then his brow wrinkled in thought. “Uhm. Yes. I think so.” He stared at his wings, which flapped a few times. He smiled and nodded. “Yes. I am confident I can fly.”

“Good...” she said, looking around. The edge stretched on in either direction. It didn't look like it went down. Then her gaze went back to the door. “Who puts a door on the edge of a cliff?”

“Someone who doesn't want ponies to walk off the cliff?” Cookie was examining the door, with all the determination he could muster. Which looked like a surprising amount.

“That...” She hesitated a moment. It was silly, but, “That makes sense...” she said and walked up to the door. It was wood, or at least it looked like it was. There were carvings around the frame of random designs, but the door itself was bare, except for the doorknob.

“Yay sense!” he said, trotting back and forth happily.

Scotch had to give it to him. He had his moments where he was fairly smart and other times where he was...less so. That was a nice way of putting it. Though he did make her smile and cheer her up. “But why a door?” she said and then decided to knock on it. After a moment of nothing, she felt silly.

“Hm...no one's home,” Cookie said, and tried the doorknob. The door swung outward.

“...why is there a road on the other side?” she said, quite perplexed.

“Yay road.” He trotted through the doorway.

Scotch dashed to the side of the door and looked around it. Cookie was not there. The road was not there. She looked back through the doorway. It wasn't just a road, there was a forest, too. A forest that looked a lot more friendly. She could even see flowers. “Cookie?”

He trotted back around the door. “There's a cliff on that side.” He announced happily.

“What?” She leaned in and looked around the door frame. Her heart sank, and she clung to the frame. Her hooves did not meet, which logic says the should. As he said, from this side of the door, the cliff was on the other side. She took a few deep breaths and then moved away from the frame, and walked through the doorway. Part of her had expected to fall. But of course she didn't, standing on solid ground.

“It's nice in here.” He froze mid stride and paused thoughtfully. “Out here?” He looked at Scotch. “Are we inside, or outside now?”

She was looking back the way they had come through the door, it showed the path back. And it was a path on that side. On this side though, it was a road. A fairly nice road. It was made from some sort of blue stone that glistened. “This is weird...”

Cookie trotted over to her. “Are we inside, or outside?” he said, sounding slightly panicked. “When you go through a door you either go inside or outside.”

“Not necessarily...” she said as she closed the door and opened it again. Nothing had changed. “You can walk through a door inside a place, and still be inside. It works the same outside. You can be outside, walk through a door and still be outside.”

He relaxed a bit. “Ah. So we're outside?” She nodded. “Yay.” He jumped into a large group of flowers, sending petals flying everywhere.

“This is some powerful magic,” she said, staring at the door. The markings on the frame were the same on this side as they were on the other. Very powerful magic. She had no idea where she was now, and she'd never seen stones like the ones making up the road. They sparkled like gems. “Well...let's keep going.” She closed the door again. The view was disorientating her.

Cookie stopped in his role in the flowers and sat up. “Ok.” He was covered in flowers, grass, and petals.

Scotch smiled and giggled softly. “Yes. We'll keep following the road.”

They set off again, Cookie paying a bit more attention to where he was going, because as he put it, “I don't want to run into another door.”

Scotch was fine with this new place; everything seemed beautiful. There was the buzz of insects nearby, and the chirp of birds in the trees. The road felt nice under her hooves and there was a pleasant breeze. “This place seems so...unreal...” she said as she looked around. The colors seemed brighter and more cheerful.

“Unreal?” His eyes wandered around. “It is very different from the forest around the palace.” He grinned. “But I like it.”

“Oh, well, I like it as well. It's just...it doesn't feel real. The only forest I've ever seen is the Everfree...and that's not a very pretty place, it's-” She stopped and stared. “What...is that?”

“What?” Cookie looked around. “What where?” He followed the direction of her hoof, to something that even he found odd. It looked like half of a ball, made out of wood. It was taller than Scotch, and she wondered if she could get through the small door in the front. Perhaps if she squeezed, with a little help or- Why was there a door? There were a few moments of silence, before there was a knocking. Scotch blinked. “Anyone home?” Cookie said, trying to peer inside the little window beside the door.

There was silence, as Cookie sat expectantly. “I...do not think anyone is home,” Scotch said, sitting down beside him. “I don't think I've ever seen a house this small...maybe a dolls house...but it's bigger than one of those.”

“So it's a house for big dolls?” His head tilted to the side as he looked at her.

She blinked, and shook her head. “I...don't think so?” She hesitated. If it wasn't, then what was it? “I...don't know...” She had to admit, but she would find out. She moved to the side of the house, walking around it. She found another window and looked into it. Inside, she saw the tiniest kitchen she could imagine. She would take up at least half of the room if she could get in. It looked as though lunch had been set out on the table.

“Whatever lives in here is smaller than you, Scotch,” Cookie said with a bit of a grin at her. “If you were smaller I'd say you lived there.” His head bobbed up and down as he nodded knowingly.

“I do not think it is to my taste,” she said as she walked back around. “I mean really, look inside. No taste in color matching.”

Slowly the two of them moved back onto the road and for a moment, Scotch looked back at the little house. “Hey look,” Cookie said, trotting ahead. “There's more.”

When Scotch caught up, she could indeed see multiple of the little houses. They seemed to have entered a small village of sorts. “Who lives here?” she said, looking into another house.

“Or here,” Cookie said looking inside another house. He knocked gently at the front. “Hello? Little living things?” As he trotted towards another, something went crunch under his hoof. He froze immediately.

Scotch blinked and walked over to him, he was standing rigid. “Uh...Cookie? Are you alright.”

Slowly he moved his hoof away and underneath was shards of something that had been yellow. “I think I stepped on a hat...” he mumbled as he sat down, looking at his hoof.

There was a moment of silence as she stared at him. “Why do you think it was a hat? And why would it be made of pottery?”

“It felt like a hat,” there was a few seconds of hesitation. “Why do I know what a hat feels like to crunch?”

She looked at him. “That...is another good question...maybe you saw it just before you stepped on it? A hat that small would probably look like something inconsequential.”

Cookie stared at her, his eyes wide and blank. “Inconsequential?”

There was another moment of silence. “Unimportant,” she explained, giving him a slight smile. “A tiny hat would hardly be of interest to anypony.”

He frowned slightly. “I'm sure it is to the one who it belonged to...what if it was their only hat?” He started to push the little bits together into a pile.

“Well unfortunately we aren't able to fix it...” Scotch said as she watched him.

He looked up at her. “You're a unicorn though. Can't you fix it?”

She looked taken aback for a moment. “Uh...no...I can't do that kind of thing...best I could do is probably scorch it...or melt it depending on what it's made out of.”

His head slowly tilted to the side. “I don't see how that could be helpful...”

“Exactly,” she said as she straightened up slightly. “Which is why I wont do anything.” She turned around and froze.

There, sitting on a small chair was the tiniest pony Scotch had ever seen. It was colorful, and shimmered. Shimmered? It looked like some kind of delicate doll, made from clay and painted to shine in different colors. Yet Scotch thought the oddest things were the large butterfly wings that glistened in the sun. “Afternoon,” it said, "that was my hat."

5: Cracked

They stared blankly at the little ceramic pony. “Did...did you just say something?” Scotch asked softly, taking a hesitant step towards it.

“I did,” he said, giving her a smile. Or was he already smiling? The way he shimmered made it difficult to tell, light played tricks with her eyes as she sat down.

“I'm sorry about your hat...” Cookie said as he brushed the shards into more of a pile.

The ceramic pony waved it's hoof dismissively. It was a sight to behold something such as that move. It's movements were extraordinarily smooth, and yet it seemed jitter into new positions. As though it were in fact always moving and actually took effort to stop. “It was just a a hat. Now, if you'd have stepped on on me, I would be a tad tad upset.” It...laughed? It could be considered laughter, but it sounded odd and more like a trill.

“So...uhm...my name is Scotch...and this is Cookie,” she gestured towards him, as he approached the ceramic pony.

“My name name is Arthur,” he said and made the motion as though to tip his hat, despite not wearing one. “Ah...my my apologies...” He waved his hoof once again and the shimmering suddenly stopped. Suddenly he was a white ivory that shone as if polished, with matching mane and tail. But his eyes shone gold. “Bit of defensive magic...wasn't sure who who you were.” He stood up slowly, now his movements seemed a bit more normal, though it was odd for something obviously made of pottery to move.

Now that Scotch could see him properly, she noticed the cracks and chips. He limped slightly as he moved towards them and she noticed it was because he was missing the bottom of his left hoof. Though he stood upright for some reason, the beautiful wings showing quite tattered. “Are you alright?”

“I'll be fine fine,” he said and shook his head, his mane did not flow; it was solid. Yet his tail swayed oddly, as if doing it's best to try to be real. “Just a a tad beat up.”

“You're repeating yourself,” Cookie said, leaning close, looking Arthur up and down.

“Ah, yes. Sorry sorry. I'm afraid that that I can't seem to stop doing doing that.” Arthur stared up at Cookie, he was truly quite small. “Not sure sure why it happens...can't remember when when it started...only noticed it a few months ago ago.”

Scotch decided it was safe enough to get closer and approached slowly. “Where exactly are we, Arthur?”

“Why this is is the town of Rettop,” he said, his expression quite confused. “Though I do not know know where you seem to have come from...I have not seen seen someone such as him.” His eyes never left Cookie.

She looked back for a moment. “I don't think we're in Equestria anymore, Cookie...”

Arthur's brow wrinkled. “What's an Equestria?”

“That's where we're from,” she said, gesturing back down the road they had come. “We went through a door at the edge of a cliff.”

“You mean The Door? But there's there's never been anything on the other side...” He had to take a few steps to look past them back down the road. “Interesting...” He suddenly stood straight, and clapped his hooves together, which made a clink. “You need need to go and see the Wizard.”

Scotch and Cookie both looked at each other. “Wizard?” they said.

“Yes yes. The Wizard knows everything,” Arthur said as he clinked ahead, down the road a bit. “Just gatta follow the road to Obsidian City... C'mon, I'll I'll lead you there.”

Scotch trotted up next to him before slowing down to his pace. “You sure it's alright for you to just up and leave? Wont anypony be worried where you went?”

“Nah,” Arthur said, looking at an empty house as they passed. “Everyone else got got smashed...the Empress doesn't like many of of the inhabitants here...she only likes her her Red Guard... Which kinda look like you, Scotch... But they're way way bigger.”

“Red Guard?” Scotch's brow wrinkled slightly. “Wizard...Empress...this place is full of odd things...”

“Perhaps. But to to me, you are odd...you have those horn horn things, like the Wizard,” he said, gesturing up to her horn.

“Does the empress have one as well?” Scotch glanced at Cookie, who was watching Arthur with fascination.

“I I don't know. I've never seen seen the Empress. I'm not sure anyone but the the Red Guard have. Except maybe the Wizard.”

“The Wizard knows everything arou-”

“Why were you all shiny earlier?” Cookie said, staring down at the porcelain pony.

Arthur blinked, staring up at him. “Oh. That was just my my Glamor.”

She raised an eyebrow, staring down at Arthur as well. “Glamor? So you can perform magic?”

“A little,” he said, waving a hoof vaguely, the air shimmered slightly in it's wake. “It was a gift, from from the Wizard.”

Scotch blinked, staring at him. “The...Wizard can do such magic? Can give somepony magic?”

“Oh yes yes. The Wizard is very powerful,” he was grinning at Scotch.

“How far is it to the Obsidian City?” Scotch looked off into the distance, but all she could see were more trees.

“Quite far far. But as long as we follow the speckled road it'll lead lead us right there.” For being so small, Arthur was keeping a good pace and actually making Scotch have to walk fast. However Cookie had longer legs and it seemed that it was his pace that Arthur was walking.

The houses had stopped and all that was left were many trees and the road ahead. Scotch felt like her head was scrambled. Nothing felt right and she worried that things would only get weirder the farther they went. “Don't worry,” she looked to see Cookie beside her. “This is an adventure.” He smiled at her. There it was again, that spark in Cookie that made anypony feel like they knew there was no way he was wrong. Everything was going to be alright, because Cookie said it would be.

She nodded slightly and took a deep breath. “Right. An adventure.” Arthur was a little ways ahead of them, leading the way. She supposed there could be worse ponies to be on an adventure with. What magical places would they visit? Where would they go? What would, or wouldn't they do?

“He is odd,” he said, looking at Arthur.

“What do you mean?” Her mind was forced to come back to where they were, away from thoughts of travel.

“I...” Cookie's brow wrinkled, as he tried to think of the proper way to say it. “He is made of stone, or something, right?”

She nodded slightly, looking at Cookie. “Yes, I believe so...” He had this expression of somepony who was trying desperately to voice his thoughts on a matter he had no knowledge of.

“How? How does he move? When he stands still he looks solid...he is an object, yet he is alive. Is there such magic to make something like him?”

It took a moment for her to collect her thoughts, but eventually she nodded. “Yes, I'm sure that there's magic that can...though I don't know anypony who could do something that powerful...but this...Wizard that he keeps talking about sounds...really powerful...”

“Do you think he'll know where I came from?” Cookie stared ahead, with a look of determination on his face.

“I...I don't know. Maybe? I mean...” She frowned slightly and sighed. “If he's anything like Arthur describes...I'm sure he will.” Though despite what Arthur said, she had her doubts.

Cookie gave her a large grin. “I hope so. I'd like to know.” He stared ahead for a moment and then a frown crept onto his face. “But...what if I don't?”

“I'm sure you will eventually,” she said, looking at him again.

“No I mean...what if I don't want to know what kind of pony I was...like...what if I wasn't a good pony...”

There was a moment of silence. “I don't think that could be possible, Cookie.” She smiled at him.

The smile came back after a moment and he nodded. “Yeah...just because I was somepony, doesn't mean I have to be that pony again.”

“We are almost at the end end of the forest,” Arthur said, suddenly in front of them. Or, closer in front of them than he had been before.

“Oh? What's at the edge of the forest?” Scotch looked ahead, though she could see only trees, it looked like it opened up ahead.

“The Far Fields. People say that that it goes on forever...but I've never been farther than the Obsidian City...which which we should be able to see from the edge.”

6: Valley Under

It was blinding coming out from under the shade of the trees, and the field ahead stretched off into the distance. The name Far Fields seemed too small. Endless Fields felt better, because it stretched from horizon to horizon in both directions; a sea of shining golden grass. All of which was much taller than Scotch. “Do you see the the twinkling?” Arthur said, pointing a hoof off into the distance. Her eyes followed it and found immediately what he pointed at. It was as if there was a star resting on the horizon. “That is The Heart. It's the beacon beacon atop Obsidian City,” he was scanning the sky now and then seemed to decide something as they walked into the field.

The road turned more into a path of scattered sparkling cobbled stone through the grass. “I...this place seems so unreal. I can't even describe it...”

“It's beautiful,” Cookie said, grinning. Scotch was almost envious of his height, he could probably see far better than she could hope to.

But that was nothing that she could help. “What can you see? Anypony, or anything out there?”

Cookie looked around a moment, a perplexed look coming to his face. “Uhm.” Again he looked around and then seemed to get an idea.

Scotch heard something behind her and suddenly found herself lifted into the air. “Eep!” She clung tightly, to what she found was Cookie's head. Her back hooves standing on his shoulders. She blinked, staring around. “So this is what it's like to be tall,” she said, as she scanned the area.

“Am I tall?” Cookie said and tried to look at Scotch, which nearly toppled her off.

She adjusted what little grip she could manage as to not fall. Once again the issue of hooves having such little grip potential. “Yes. You are,” she said, trying to stay steady. Her head was above Cookie's, so she was taller. It was an amazing view. But there was nothing around. Ahead, however, she noticed something. “Arthur. There's a split in the path up ahead.”

Arthur nodded in an oddly knowing way. “Yes yes. All roads lead to the Obsidian City. But we will be taking taking the right path. It leads through the valley and is a much safer safer route.”

“Safer?” Cookie asked slowly, his face scrunching slightly. “Is the other not safe?”

“It might be...it might might not be. If there are Red Guard, they will be on the left road road.” He seemed to know what he was talking about and Scotch wondered if it was from experience, or from rumor.

“I don't see any valley,” she murmured, straining her eyes to try and see anything, but it all seemed perfectly flat to her.

“Oh you can't see see it. The grass hides everything everything. Anyone who wanders into it it gets lost. But there are villages in there. Some that have been swallowed swallowed up and some just off the path...” Her eyes widened a bit and she looked around again, trying to see anything. “The Red Red Guard stick to the road...so so it is not the safest of of places...”

“How bad are the Red Guard?” Scotch was curious to what kind of ponies they were. He had said they were like her but bigger.

“Very bad if you're someone like me me. They would not hesitate to smash me, without my Glamor on on...” He looked back at them, just now noticing that she was atop Cookie and laughed. “You, I believe they would take take to the Empress, for judgment.” He shook his head, chuckling. “But but you both have horns like the the Wizard. Though you have wings as well, Cookie Cookie.”

“Do I?” Cookie looked back, again almost tossing Scotch off. “Oh yeah. I do. I have yet to try to fly though...”

There was a moment of silence. “But you said that you could fly?” Scotch said, her brow wrinkling.

“Well...I have wings. So I assume that I can fly,” he said, looking at Scotch. “Is that wrong?”

“I...well...” She had to think about this and as they did, they came to the fork in the road. There was a sign. Cookie walked to it and stared. Scotch stared as well. “Five times you walk by,” she read, “four times you do not see. You would run, if you were me.” She stared at it and then looked at Arthur. “What?”

“It's a warning and and instructions,” he said, as he tapped the sign and then pushed on it, turning it around. “There's there's more on the back.”

Scotch and Cookie watched as the sign turned around and on the other side it did indeed say something else. “We ask that you not tread on our flowers, we have worked on them for hours,” Cookie read, his brow wrinkling. “I don't understand...”

“Each one is a warning for for each path,” Arthur explained, before he started walking down the right path. Cookie followed him.

“But what do they mean?” Scotch said, it was starting to bother her. They sounded playful, but at the same time mildly ominous.

“The running one is for the left path. There's a point point where the path loops around and you have to go around five times before you can see where the path splits from the circle circle and continues on, he suggests you run if you're in a hurry hurry.” Obviously Arthur had been around a long time, and knew the area quite well.

“And I'm guessing that something bad happens if you step on the flowers?” Scotch said, trying to get comfortable on top of Cookie's back, but she would have to shift again when this position became uncomfortable later.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “The flowers do not like like being stepped on. But it's easy to avoid doing so as long as you stay on the middle middle of the path.”

Suddenly Scotch noticed that the path began dipping downward, though the grass stayed the same height. They traveled further, the grass rising higher, and higher. “Valley Under,” Cookie read and Scotch nearly hit her head on the hanging sign. If Cookie had not stopped to read it, she probably would have.

“Yes. The Valley Under. It it is the name that was chosen,” Arthur said as he looked around, as if searching for something.

“Well it makes sense,” she said, ducking her head to avoid hitting it on the sign. “Quite a literal name, if I do say.”

“But you do say?” Cookie said, his brow furrowing. It seemed he was having another one of his odd moments.

“It was an expression of opinion,” she explained slowly, but she was not surprised that it was not something he was familiar with.

But it was Arthur who spoke next. “And what do you mean, literal name?”

She stared at the little porcelain pony. “Well, it is literally under the field. Another literal name would be Splitting Valley, as it splits the field. Or is it more of a scratch?”

“Never thought of it that way...” Arthur murmured and then shrugged. “It's quite large...”

“So it would classify more as a scar?” She felt as though she had a lot of energy now, more than she had in days. It was probably the fact she was no longer surrounded by trees. Though the odd grass wall was not much a better sight. But the flowers were pretty...

She stared, as did Cookie. It was a brilliant shade of red. It almost looked like it was dripping; as if painted and still wet. “Oh wow...pretty,” Cookie said and almost took a step towards it, but stopped, remembering what Arthur had said.

“I guess they're kinda kinda pretty. But they are not nice flowers,” Arthur said, giving the flowers a look.

It felt as though the flower was returning the glare wholeheartedly. The oddest way was how the flowers turned to follow them, watching them. “Sentient flowers...” she said, trying to analyze it from a distance. “Not much light down here, so it must get sustenance from other things...insects perhaps? Judging from the way it's tracking our movement...”

“It looks like it's dripping blood,” Cookie said, seemingly now no longer finding the flowers very pretty.

He was right, it did look like blood. “So perhaps it drinks blood...but the way it drips means that it has fed recently?”

“A Red Guard, probably...they all drip drip like that when they catch someone,” Arthur was walking quite fast and Cookie was doing his best to keep up. How could such a little thing outpace him? She would have to analyze his movements a bit more.

“Than they're probably all interconnected somehow,” Scotch went on. “Blood flowers... I wonder if there is a main bud that acts as the heart...I've read stories of things like this...but...” She hesitated as she looked at Arthur. “But they were foal stories...stuff for kids...things that I thought weren't real...but I think that they hold more weight here than a lot of the other things I've read.”

Cookie stared blankly ahead for a moment. “Every story comes from somewhere...but...sometimes they are unpleasant, so we convince ourselves they couldn't be true.”

7: Tacky

She was wishing she had paid more attention to fairy tales. This place seemed to be built upon them. As if this is where they had all come from. Who was the famous pony author that wrote so many fairy tales? Perhaps they had come here and then come back? It was logical, but perhaps this place was built on them, rather than the other way around. What if ponies imaginations built this place? She would need to ask the Wizard. They seemed like the kind of pony who knew what was going on. “Arthur?” The little pony slowed and looked back at her. “What is the Wizard like?”

“What do you you mean?” He had to slow down even more, which Cookie was quite grateful for.

“Well...” She thought for a bit, choosing the proper wording. “Like, how do they act?”

“They are kind kind,” he said, still looking confused. “The Wizard has always been very helpful to everyone here and been a good leader leader. If not for the Empress, things would be be perfect.”

“Why does the Wizard not stop the Empress if he's so powerful?” Scotch had the odd feeling that she should feel bad for saying something like that. “I mean...”

“No no. I understand what you are saying-”

“I don't,” Cookie added.

There was a short pause, before Arthur continued. “The Wizard has tried. The Empress is not stronger, but nor is she weaker.”

“So they are even...” Something had caused Cookie to stop and he was looking off to the side, and so Scotch followed his gaze.

“No. They are different different. And- Ah...the half way point.” There was a door, much like the one Scotch and Cookie had come through.

“Its it a magical door?” Cookie said, walking towards it. For a moment Scotch was worried about the flowers, but they seemed to avoid the door.

“I do not know know. I have never asked before before,” Arthur looked behind them, and then ahead.

“Cookie...I don't think you should...” she said, watching as he moved slowly towards the door.

“But it's a door. Those are meant to be opened.” And with that, he pushed it open.

The rug was quite tacky. The coat rack was tacky. The coffee table was tacky. The mismatched chairs around it were tacky. And the walls were just covered in- ...in fact, the entire room and everything in it was tacky. It was the only word that Scotch could manage to fittingly describe the room: tacky. “Jeez...this place is-”

“Neat!” Cookie was already moving inside, which almost cause Scotch to fall over.

“Ok. Not the word I would use to describe it...” She looked around the room again. “Not at all the word, in fact.”

Cookie was munching on something. “Thesh ur gud.”

“Cookie! Those aren't yours! No, don't spit them out! Just, stop eating them.” She frowned at him. He was eating something out of a bowl.

“Oh don't worry. Have as much as you'd like. It's not like I eat them. They're just for guests.” Oh dear Celestia. How does someone have a tacky sounding voice? And the one speaking was a...Flamingo?

“Oh, yay!” Cookie continued to munch down on whatever was in the bowl. Scotch was no longer concerned about it. She was more concerned with the Flamingo, with large glasses, a pink feather boa, and a very, very frilly hat. She was, in essence...the tackiest looking thing Scotch had ever seen.

“I'm sorry deary, I'm afraid they're a bit stale.” She blended into the room oddly well when she didn't move, or talk. “No one comes to visit me anymore. Oh but where are my manners.” She gave them a rather friendly, if not a bit beaky, smile. “My name is Tacky.”

“Of course it is...” Scotch muttered, and then realized she had said it out loud. And she was also staring. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. My name is Scotch Muffin.”

The smile never left her face. “Never had one.”

There was a brief silence. “And this is Cookie,” she gestured towards him.

“Oh I do love cookies,” said the flamingo as she moved to her tacky couch. “Not been able to make any as of late, can't get the ingredients...those ruffians are always going up and down my road. Trampling my flowers. So rude.”

“Those are...your flowers?” Scotch watched as Arthur struggled to get up onto the table, realizing that it was actually quite difficult for him to fly.

“Oh yes. Lovely aren't they? Oh the Sanguis Cruentus is such an odd little flower. It feeds off insects, but if someone is unfortunate enough to become entangled...well...I'm afraid it isn't pretty.”

“Yes it seems that that one of them got a hold of a Red Guard,” Arthur had finally managed to get onto the table. “Good afternoon, Tacky.”

“Oh, Arthur! So good to see you! Would you some tea?” She was already getting up.

Scotch could not help but stare at the way she moved, tripping over things and knocking over things, which she quickly fussed about to put back where they went. “Yes, please please,” he said to her retreating form. “You'll have to forgive her her. She's always been like this.”

“Sthe hath gud snakths,” Cookie said, munching away on whatever was in the bowl. Scotch, now that she looked, could not make out what exactly it was he was eating. It looked like brightly colored gravel.

“Yes well...that may be...but, she's alright, right?” She could not help but feel concerned. The way she looked, the way she lived, and the way she acted...

“Oh yes, she's fine fine. Honestly she doesn't act too much different than she used used to. Just a bit clumsier clumsier,” Arthur pulled one of the little stones from the bowl and Scotch could see now that it was a little piece of colored candy. “It's quite interesting honestly. I think she's the best off of all all of us.”

She came back with a large tray. “I do hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of getting us all tea.”

“Thank you, very much.” Scotch jumped off the back of Cookie and moved to the table.

Tacky gasped and everyone looked at her. “Ah. I'm sorry. I was not aware you were two. I need another cup.” She set the tray down and left the room again.

Scotch looked at the mismatched tea set before she realized what Tacky had actually said. “What?” she looked at Arthur, who shrugged. “So she thought...Cookie and I were one thing?”

“There are stranger stranger things,” Arthur said as he picked up a tiny teacup and got himself some tea. It was an interesting thing to watch, as he opened the top of the teapot and dipped his teacup inside it before he sat down on an overturned teacup.

She returned with another teacup, which of course didn't match any of the ones currently on the table, and set it down in front of Scotch. “Do you like sugar, deary?” She poured three cups of tea and hesitated when she got to Arthur, staring at him. “My cups are not seats.”

“I'm not going to hurt hurt it, Tacky,” he said as he sipped the tea. Scotch wondered how something made of porcelain could drink anything. Then her mind went onto the far more pressing concern; how anypony could drink tea straight like that.

“I'd like three sugars, please,” Scotch said, which pulled Tacky's attention back to her.

“Of course dear,” she said with a smile.

It was...the oddest teaparty that Scotch had ever attended. Not that she had ever had any teaparties, but she assumed that they were never like this. But it was...nice, as well. Things that are friends and friendly. And the tea was pretty good, though Cookie's was probably more sugar than tea by the time he had it to the point where, as he put it: “is drinkablable.”

Then the idle conversation and explanation as to where Scotch and Cookie had come from, Tacky asked, “And where are you headed?”

“As we said,” Arthur had said it twice now. “We are going to the Obsidian City.”

“Well isn't that nice.” There was a brief pause filled with silence and tea sipping, before she spoke again, “Why are you heading there?”

“To see the Wizard,” Arthur said, for the third time.

Scotch couldn't decide whether Tacky was simply playing, or if it just wasn't sinking in in the right way. “We have a lot of questions we'd like to ask him.”

“Well the Wizard knows an awful lot about everything,” Tacky said, still smiling.

Then Cookie asked what it seems she had been waiting for, “Would you like to come with us?”

She grinned, as much as a flamingo could grin without teeth. “My dear, I would love to.”

8: Stuff of Stuff

It wasn't exactly what one would call a purse, that's for sure. It was large, more like a bag and such gaudy colors that it made one dizzy to look at it. It was so large, in fact, that Tacky had to drag it, rather than carry it. Surprisingly it didn't slow her down and the flamingo could keep pace with the group no problem. Scotch could hardly believe she could lift the thing, with the sheer amount of...stuff, that she put into it. Yet she called it a purse.

After she had gathered her things, she said goodbye to her flowers. It was a very long goodbye. Scotch was certain she was about to cry, and then began to wonder if flamingo's could cry. She did this through the entire valley. It was just good that she did it in chunks, rather than to individual flowers. But that, apparently, was Tacky. Tacky cared for everything. Except the Red Guards. They apparently had attempted to burn her place down a few weeks ago. To her, they were just: “Brutes. Brutes who think just cus they're bigger than me, they can do whatever they want.”

“Well, they're bigger bigger than me,” Arthur said, folding his arms. Apparently Cookie had become some sort of transportation, as everyone was seated on him. Except for Tacky's bag, which dragged behind.

“Fairly certain everything is bigger than you,” Scotch said, looking down at him. “Unless there are smaller things we've not seen?”

Arthur paused, and shrugged. “Probably? I have not seen seen every creature that lives.”

“I'm sure there are,” Cookie said. He didn't seem slowed, or bothered at all at the group atop him.

A lot stronger than he looked, Scotch reckoned. “Yes, well...at least we're almost there. Right, Arthur?”

“Oh who who knows. You can never tell around here. Just have to keep moving moving and hope you get there eventually.”

Scotch frowned and went to say something, but Tacky got there first, “Are you at all tired Cookie?”

He shook his head, which almost tossed Scotch off, as she was sitting up at the front. “Nope.”

“Well my my, you are such the strong...thing, aren't you? I can see why little Scotch rides atop you.” Tacky smiled at Scotch.

She forced herself to smile back. She was fairly certain that Tacky wasn't trying to be insulting, but Scotch still felt a bit like she had been insulted. “Yes, well, I'm afraid I'm not as fast as anypony around here.” She waved her hooves at Tacky. “Short legs and all.”

“Never stopped me,” Arthur said, watching as Hooves were waved above his head.

“Yes well, you flutter while you walk.” Scotch had noticed how he half flied, half ran. “It's no question that Cookie, or Tacky would have no problems keeping up.”

“Wow...” Scotch looked forward when Cookie made a noise, and saw it. It was immense. They had just come to the top of a hill and there it stood. The Obsidian City.

Her jaw dropped. It was an entire city of shining black. It was bigger than...bigger than any place she had seen. Towers that stretched up into the clouds. “Wow,” Scotch mimicked Cookie's reaction.

“Well? We wont get there if you just stare at it,” Arthur said, patting Cookie, who started walking.

“I've never seen anything like this...except in...”

“Kid stories, as you called them?” Arthur said, smiling at her.

But Scotch just stared at it. “It is...immense...so grand...” And it didn't seem to be getting any closer, even though Cookie was moving a lot faster now. She noticed that there were a lot of side roads, going this way and that.

After a while, he finally slowed back down. “It's not getting any closer.”

“It's an illusion of distance, Cookie. It's because it's large and there's no frame of reference that it'll seem like we're going for quite a while,” Scotch said as she shifted slightly to get comfortable again. “Especially because you're staring at it and the change is so small that you can't tell the difference. Try looking at the ground instead.”

Scotch fell off this time, as Cookie abruptly looked at the ground. Furthermore, Cookie did not notice. Nor did Arthur or Tacky, as they looked at Cookie's back. And he started running again.

She got up slowly. “Well...drat.” She dusted herself off. “Cookie!” But there was no response. She sighed again and looked around. At least she was on the path and knew where they were going. So she started walking. It was all she could do. Would they notice that she had fallen off and come back for her? Or wait for her to catch up? That was the big question. She hoped they would notice.

“I said, I saw something running down the path.” She froze as several ponies came out from a side path, staring down the road. They were...painted red? Or perhaps covered in red mud it looked like. “The Empress will not like that things are moving outside the city without her permission. “Hickmor, go and report.” A pegasus somewhere on the path took to the air.

“Jeez, this is not going to be good. Do we go after them?” More ponies were coming down the path.

“No, whatever it was is long gone by now. Did you see how fast it was going? I doubt Hickmor could've caught it.” They were all covered in red clay. Scotch assumed they had to be the Red Guard everypony was worried about.

“I wonder what it was...obviously it's heading to the city...that blasted city. If not for the Wizard, the Empress would have destroyed it already.” It was hard to keep track of who was speaking and who had spoken, as they were all sort of milling about in the road. Blocking Scotch.

“Where was it headed from?” They all turned and stared off into the distance. Then they all looked down.

Scotch was fairly certain she was terrified at this point. Cookie had become a sort of safety for her and without him, nothing felt right. “Eh? A little filly?”

“How'd she get all the way out here?” Somepony was waving to the one who took off. “Dang it Hickmor, get back here. This must be reported.”

“Where'd you come from little filly? What's your name?” The clay covered pony took a few steps towards her and she backed away. This obviously confused him and made him look back, as if what was scaring her was behind him.

Another pony came up beside him, after looking back as well. “What's wrong little filly? Everything's going to be alright now, we'll take you home.” He turned back, took another step forward and then froze, suddenly back peddling. “Horn!” The entire group scattered immediately into the grass. “Horn! Horn! She's got a horn!”

The cry was echoed quite a bit, “Horn! Horn! Run!”

Scotch stood for a moment and then ran as fast as she could. She just stared at the path, running. Running hard. By the time she stopped, she was out of breath and her legs hurt. She looked back, but nopony had followed her. They had been scared of her? Of her horn? After thinking about it, she hadn't seen any of them with horns. But it wasn't like she could do much other than burn things. Well, that had worked out for her. She got away.

And she had come onto more of a road. Where was Cookie? She looked around, trying to see if she could spot them, but all she could see was grass and the City. Oh, she was right outside. The doors were huge. But, now that she actually looked at it from this close she realized something. “This isn't obsidian...it's...” It was hard to describe, but she moved slowly towards it to confirm her suspicions, and it was what she was thinking: “It's stuff, turned to black stone...” Which was probably the best possible description. A huge pile of stuff, packed together and then turned to stone. She did not even recognize half of the things that made up the wall. It was just a big wall of stuff, made of stuff. Slowly, she moved to the doors, which were two large doors, made out of other doors. Hundreds of them. Whole doors and pieces of doors. Yet not a single doorknob, or knocker.

She knocked her hoof against the door. And knocked again when after several minutes there was no answer. But even after the fifth time she knocked, a tad more panicked, there was still no answer. She pressed her ear to the door and could hear...something. Things were happening on the other side. Loud things. She tried the door, but it was shut fast.

“Where are you, Cookie?” She looked around a moment and then noticed something odd on the wall. After she moved closer, she confirmed that it was, indeed, a hole. It wasn't a very large hole, but it was a hole in the wall, small enough for her? It looked like it was actually some sort of wheel, that had not been filled with stuff when it was turned to stone. Or perhaps something had removed what was in it? She looked back, off into the distance and the movement of something, that she could have sworn was red, made her feel like they were coming this way. In a panic, she scrambled into the hole.

9: Inside the Wall

Cramped. And dark. Cramped and dark. She didn't like the dark. Not one bit. But at least it kept going. Scotch wasn't entirely sure if she could turn back around even if she wanted to. The real question was, how deep did it go? She did have a few candles in her bag, perhaps she could get them out. But it is very cramped, maybe she should just-

Suddenly there was a complete absence of floor. Maybe she should have been taking it a little slower. But it was a short fall, though a loud one. She had to struggle for several minutes, tangled in...string or something. A small chain? Something. In a desperate attempt she tried to light her horn. Maybe if she focused- nope. Now her horn was on fire. Again.

She flailed for a moment until she managed to put it out. A sigh left her lips as she shifted and dug through her bag, fishing out a candle. It wasn't hard to find, after all, she didn't have much. Technically the bag was hers, even if nothing inside them was. She focused on the candle and took a deep breath. When she let it out, the candle burst into life. It was a stupid thing to be good at.

Then she turned her attention to what she had been stuck in, and it was a small chain. It had been attached to something, but snapped in her struggle. At least the place she was in now was a lot bigger. Not so cramped...but...where was she? “What's this then?”

Again, she was fairly certain she was terrified. Somewhere in the darkness beyond her candle light, something was coming. Silently. “Uhm...I...”

Then there was something poking it's head around a corner. It looked at her. Stared at her. “Well now, don't see this everyday,” it said as it moved around the corner. “What brings light down into Undercity?” It was a...rat? A mouse? It was quite large. And it wore a hat. A cavalier if Scotch was not mistaken, with four large black feathers.

“Under...what?” Scotch fumbled a bit for words, watching as the thing walked towards her. It had a belt and was holding what looked to be a sword.

It hesitated, or she should think he as it seemed male? “Undercity,” he said, holding the sword out in front of him and pointed at, Scotch couldn't help but notice, her.

“Is...is it called that because it's under the city?” Scotch was watching the sword, examining it. It seemed to be a toy sword that had been turned to the black stone. And sharpened. It looked very sharp.

Again there was hesitation. “I...never thought of it that way, but that makes a lot of sense.” He sheathed the sword. “Well, you are either the most oddly disguised rat I have ever seen, or something I have not seen before in my lifetime...”

“My...my name is Scotch Muffin. I'm a unicorn,” she said softly, glad that the threat was gone.

“A what?” He adjusted his hat as he walked around her, towards where she had fallen in. “You're called Scotch Muffin, yet you say you are also a unicorn?”

“No-” she hesitated. “Well, yes. Technically.”

“Which is it?” His hand hovered slightly around his sword.

“Scotch Muffin is what I'm called. Scotch for short,” the things here made so little sense.

“I'm not sure what a Scotch Muffin is...but, you don't seem a threat.”

“I'm not. I'm just...Scotch. I'm trying to get into the Obsidian City,” she said with a slight sigh. “But the door is closed.”

“I see...my apology for my previous hostility. I am Sir Antwan Percival Mousekewitz, knight of the round cheese, at your service, my lady,” he gave a bow, removing his hat as he did.

Her brow furrowed slightly. “A...knight?”

“Yes. Of the round cheese,” he was fiddling with the chain, stretching it back over the path that Scotch had come down.

It must be hooked to some sort of alarm, which is why Sir Antwan got here so fast. “I've...never met a knight before...” Then realization dawned. “Could you, uhm...get me up into the Obsidian City?”

He looked at her and then placed his hat back onto his head. “First we must speak with the council. We must find what to do with a Scotch Muffin.” He turned and moved quickly down the tunnel.

Scotch followed, after getting her bag and candle. It was a little difficult to carry it and keep up with the knight, who she was assuming must be a mouse, judging by the way he spat the word rat. Plus his last name was Mousekewitz for Celestia's sake. “Will it take long? My friends are already in the city. I think...”

“You think they may, or may not be? Why are you not sure?” He looked back at her, having to come back several times to make sure she didn't get lost. Though he walked and stood on two legs, he ran on all fours.

“Well, we got separated. And they wouldn't open the door for some reason.” She was not going to be bothered with trying to keep up and went at her own pace. She couldn't help but notice there were several more mice around them now. Some of them armed and hatted as Sir Antwan.

“Antwan, what is this?” They had come to a...building? There was no other way to describe it.

“It is a Scotch Muffin,” he said, removing his hat. The mouse he was talking to had several feathers. Seven or eight of them. “She came through the side door and wants permission to go to the over city.”

“Why does she bring light into Undercity?" The mouse was clearly addressing her. “Put it out.”

Scotch was about to say something, but before she could, the light went out. Then it immediately reignited in slight panic. The flame was a lot bigger than she had meant it to be. “I do not like the dark,” she muttered as her excuse.

Several things were murmured, one of which Scotch caught was, “Wizard.”

“Please. I need to go up into the city.”

The mouse looked panicked, so did most of them. Except for Antwan and a few, who were simply in awe. “I will taker her personally,” Antwan said, donning his hat once more. “She must be taken to see the Wizard.”

“Y-yes,” the other mouse said with a slight squeak. Then they cleared their throat. “Quickly. If the king hears that someone brought light into Undercity he will be upset.”

“And what would he do?” Antwan snapped. Scotch noticed the bitter sound in his voice as they moved on again. “No mouse fiddles with magic, or those who use it.”

She moved to follow after Antwan, who now walked on two legs again. “Did I do something wrong?”

“The king does not like light,” he looked around to make sure that no mice were around. “Despite his blindness. He would rather be in darkness, than to feel light. Undercity deserves better.”

“You do not like the king?” Scotch said, moving closer to him, to allow a softer voice.

“He does not like visitors. No one from the city above is allowed down anymore.” Apparently it was no secret that he disapproved of the king.

“But...he's the king isn't-”

“Sir Percival should have been king,” he said, almost snapping at her. He cleared his throat. “My apologies. It is not your concern.”

Scotch looked at him for a moment, and then noticed they had been climbing upwards. “Every place has it's problems-” she stopped as they suddenly came out into the street. There was a...party? “Uh...except here it seems.”

There were...things. All of them dancing and laughing. “Oh? Seems they have something to celebrate up here,” Antwan said, taking a deep breath. “Mmm and I smell cheese...”

Scotch looked around, but couldn't see anything but the mass of...well, animals for the most part. Though there seemed to be more things than she could name. Creatures of all sorts and sizes. But she was only looking for one particular creature, which she was having no luck in finding. “Perhaps they did not make it into the city after-”

“Scotch!” She looked around and saw Cookie pushing and shoving his way towards her. “Scotch! Scotch Scotch Scotch Scotch. You gatta tell them!” He looked more worried than it seemed possible.

She blinked, staring at Cookie. “Tell them...what?”

“You have to tell them to open the door. They saw my horn and wont let me out. Cus when I was running, you fell off and I didn't notice.” He was fidgeting back and forth like somepony who needed to use the little foals room quite badly. “And they wont open the door and I can't go out and look for you. And now they're throwing this party and I don't want you to miss it. So tell them to open the door.”

She could not help but smile, looking up at Cookie and his panicked expression. But she didn't say anything, rather allowing him to work it out for himself.

He suddenly stopped in his little dance of sorts, one hoof still in the air. “Oh.” He sat down and after a moment grinned. “Nevermind.”

10: The Obsidian City

Scotch had never been to a party, and could not begin to imagine one this grand. It was like the entire city was in celebration. Several...things came up to her, wanting to talk to her. Wanting to simply see her. Though she noticed not a single one got too close. It was obvious that it was because of Sir Antwan. Many simply turned around when they saw him.

The entire place felt alive. Everyone was so happy to see her, but she couldn't figure out why. It just seemed like something that happened and with the amount of things she saw, streamers and balloons everywhere. The music was a tad weird for her tastes and with all the shouting and things trying to talk to her she couldn't make out exactly what song it was.

Eventually she was ushered into a building, followed close by Sir Antwan. She looked around to figure out what kind of building it was. Eventually she figured that it was some sort of restaurant. In front of her was a rather excited looking penguin in a bowtie. “Good afternoon, Miss,” it said with a bow.

“Uhm...afternoon.” It was an immense building dressed in red colors, accented with gold.

“Please, come this way.” He spotted Sir Antwan and took several steps to the side and back. “P-please.” He turned and waddled at quite a fast pace.

“Why is everyone so nervous around you, Sir Antwan?” she asked as they followed the penguin. Scotch noticed there were several others, all wearing bowties.

“It is because I am a mouse. We do not often come into the Over City, and I'm afraid we've a...reputation.” She watched as he constantly looked around, watching and examining everything for potential threats.

“A reputation for what?”

“Brutality,” Arthur said, standing atop a table. “Ruthlessness.” He paused. “Efficiency. They they are not well liked, but they keep the city safe safe. But I've always found found them quite agreeable. Good afternoon, Sir Sir Antwan.”

“Arthur,” Sir Antwan said as he joined Arthur on top of the table. “Glad to see you've not been smashed.”

“Not for lack lack of trying.”

Scotch felt that there was an odd sort of kinship between the two of them. She noticed that the penguin was patiently offering her a seat. “Oh. Sorry. Thank you,” she said as she accepted the seat. The penguin bowed and backed away, rushing off.

“How was your journey around the fields?” There was a chair on the table that Sir Antwan was sitting in, while Arthur sat on an overturned teacup.

“Quite eventful eventful,” he said with a smile and gestured at Scotch. “Found this and the other other one.”

“Where is Cookie?” Scotch asked as she looked around again, not being able to see him.

“Right here.” Scotch leaped up in her chair as the tablecloth lifted and the pale green eyes of Cookie stared at her.

“Cookie! What in Equestria are you doing under the table?” Her heart was racing and she sat down, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Hiding,” he said as he tilted his head to the side.

“Uhm...” She looked around, it seemed that not many things were looking over at them. “What are you hiding from?”

He looked around conspiratorially and whispered, “Tacky.”

There was a moment where she merely stared at him, waiting for an explanation. When she did not get one, she had to ask, “Why are you hiding from Tacky?”

“They are playing hide and and seek,” Arthur said as he clinked his teacup seat slightly. “Although Tacky is not not the one who is it anymore. I'm afraid Cookie doesn't understand understand the rules of the game.”

Cookie looked around and then sunk back under the table. “I'm good at hiding.”

Scotch smiled slightly. “Who is it?” she asked, and Arthur shrugged.

She looked out at the restaurant again in time to see a penguin waddling quickly towards them with a large tray with several glasses on it. “Good afternoon,” he said as he passed out glasses. There was a slight hesitation as Scotch watched him count how many were at the table. “Were there not two more to your group?”

Scotch nodded. “Yes, one will be joining us later and the other is under the table.”

“Shh!” Cookie's head popped out of the tablecloth. “Don't tell him that, he might tell Tacky!”

“Ah...” The penguin then passed out menu's, sliding one under the table as well.

Scotch felt weird. She had never been in a restaurant before and had never seen one as fancy as this. It didn't help improve this feeling when she looked at the menu and didn't even recognize any of the things on there. The thought of Cookie under the table and Arthur and Sir Antwan ordering immediately and beginning their own conversation didn't help matters. “I'm not entirely sure what any of these things are,” she mumbled.

The menu slid from under the table and a holed hoof pointed to something. “That one, please.”

“Ah, good choice,” the penguin said as he picked up Cookie's menu. “I can explain anything, or if you have some sort of preference I know our chef would be glad to accommodate you.”

She shifted a bit. “Uhm. Well, I'd like a salad then.”

“Of course. What sort of dressing?”

Again she shifted. “I've never had any...so I don't know what would be good. Whatever is fine.”

The penguin nodded as he took her menu. “Of course. Your food will arrive shortly.”

Scotch watched as the penguin waddled off and realized that she had no idea what they considered a salad. She sighed as she placed her chin on the table, closing her eyes as she brought her focus to the conversation. “-getting more forward forward. It's like the Empress is getting ready for her next next step.”

“Whatever that is,” Sir Antwan said into his glass. The glasses were perfectly sized for Arthur and Sir Antwan. “The last rat raid was two weeks ago, but they didn't wear the Empress garb and weren't properly equipped.”

“Perhaps they had a falling out?” Scotch interjected, feeling like she wanted to be in the conversation.

Both of them looked at her. “A falling falling out?”

“Well, from what I've heard of the Empress, she only likes ponies- the Red Guard as they're called. Maybe she feels confident enough that she doesn't need the rats anymore?”

“That would make sense...but that has me worried. The rats were a constant pressure and now it's almost like they're gone...”

The rest of the lunch went with more pleasant conversations about Scotch and Cookie's journey to here and what had happened when Scotch got lost. Cookie rejoined them once Tacky had arrived and Scotch explained to Cookie the game was over. The food arrived and Scotch was relieved that it was a regular salad and the dressing was good, even if she didn't know what it was. Arthur ate something that looked like clay and Sir Antwan had cheese and crackers. Apparently Tacky had ordered before she left and was eating some sort of fish. Cookie had apparently ordered some sort of pasta.

The party was still going when they went back out into the street. “What are they celebrating?” Scotch asked to Arthur and Tacky.

“The coming of wizards of course,” Tacky said with her crooked smile.

Scotch's brow furrowed and Arthur decided to explain, “You two two.” He gestured at Scotch and Cookie. “Because you both have horns, they're calling calling you new wizards.”

“I can't do magic,” Cookie said with a worried expression and fidgeting back and forth.

“Yes you can. You turned into me, remember?” Scotch was looking around again at the city. It was beautiful from a distance, but when it was seen up close as all the mash of stuff it looked less impressive. Scotch had noticed that it was mostly toys.

“Oh. Right. So that was magic?” Cookie immediately brightened up.

“Yes.” Scotch noticed that the crowd was parting ahead of them and they were following Sir Antwan. People got out of his way rather quickly. “Where are we going now?”

“To see the Wizard.”

“What sort of magic can you do, Deary?” Tacky said as she came up beside Scotch.

Scotch stared at Tacky's flippers a moment and stick like legs. “I start fires,” she said with a heavy frown.

“Is that what you did down in Undercity?” Sir Antwan didn't turn back to look at her.

She nodded and sighed. “Yes. I'm terrible at it, but it's the only thing I can do. I've managed two candles at once a few times, but usually I just set my horn on fire.”

“Goodness. It's good you've not set your hair on fire.”

Again Scotch sighed. “Yes. But I mean...I wish I could do something else.”

“Can Cookie do do anything else besides turn into you?” Arthur said from atop Cookie's back. Scotch felt a twinge of jealousy that he didn't have to walk and she did.

“I dunno,” Cookie said as his brow furrowed. “I dunno how I changed the first time. Or how I changed back...it just was something that I did and I just did.”

“I'm sure he can,” Scotch said with a slight smile. “I'm sure there's a lot of different things that he can do, he just has to remember how to do them.”

“Remember how?”

“I'm a nesia,” Cookie said with some pride.

There was a bit of a pause in the conversation as everyone looked at Cookie. “He means he has amnesia.”

Arthur tapped Cookie's horn a few times. “Well, the wizard should be able able to help with that.”

Scotch saw Sir Antwan stop in front of large doors. He turned back to them and said, “We'll find out soon, because here we are.”

11: The Wizard

It was the first thing that Scotch had seen in the city that was part of it, but not made of the black stone. There were wooden doors, much like the one on the cliff with writing around the edge that appeared modeled after the carvings. The obvious word that Scotch caught before they were pushed open by the large crowd was 'Wizard' as it was the largest and written several times.

The door slammed shut behind them and it was just her little group once again. Immediately she thought of the abandoned palace in the Everfree, except that this was not crumbling down. “Are we in another palace?” Cookie asked, looking down at Scotch.

“It is the Wizard's palace palace.” Arthur got down off of Cookie's back.

“It looks like a palace,” Cookie said as he nodded knowingly. “Does this have a candle room, too?”

“I don't think all palace's have candle rooms, Cookie.” They were heading down the hallway now and Scotch had to assume that this was what the old palace looked like in it's prime. Scotch gave a quick explanation of what they were talking about. “But...uhm...does the Wizard know we're coming?”

“Of course,” Tacky said as she adjusted her boa. Scotch had noticed that she had cleaned up while playing hide and seek rather than seeking. “The Wizard knows everything.”

Once again they came to two large doors and Scotch suddenly had this odd feeling of empty space behind her. She looked back to see that everyone except her had taken quite a few steps back. Even Sir Antwan looked apprehensive. “Hello?” Cookie had opened the door and was peeking his head inside.

Scotch moved after Cookie as he entered the room, both because she did not want to leave him alone and she did not want to be somewhere without him. The room was dim with oddly dark lights. Basins of black fire lined the long room. There were black banners, which had intricate designs and depictions done in thick silver thread. “Well at least it has a theme...” Scotch swallowed as her voice echoed loudly.

“It's dark,” Cookie said with a frown. “I preferred the candle room.”

“Yes it was a lot more homely than this.” At the other end of the hall there was a large throne and a large bundle of cloth atop it.

Scotch hid behind Cookie as the bundle moved. “Approach.” The voice seemed to come from the direction of the bundle, but it felt too soft to have come over that much distance.

“A-are you the Wizard?” Scotch managed, her voice a tad shaky. Cookie was still approaching with a light of curiosity in his eyes.

“I am a wizard.” The bundle shifted again as the approached. “Any who can use magic can claim that title.”

Cookie tilted his head as they moved even closer to the bundle. “Then that means that the Empress is a wizard as well?”

“No.” Scotch could see a soft black glow under what was apparently a hood. “She has chosen a different title. In this world, what you call yourself holds power.”

“So by calling yourself the Wizard, that gives you power?” Scotch said as she came out from behind Cookie.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” The glow brightened a moment and then faded back to it's gentle pulsing. “I have waited a long time for new ones to come with the power to wield magic...and it is unfortunate that instead of unicorns...I get a little filly and a changeling.”

Scotch felt mildly insulted but there were more pressing matters. “A changeling? What's a changeling?” Scotch asked as they were almost to the bundled figure.

“A changeling. A shape shifter. It disguises itself as ponies and feeds off the love of those that care for the pony they are disguised as.”

“I...feed off of love?” Cookie said softly, staring at the the ground.

Scotch looked up at Cookie, she could see the confusion and the uncomfortable way he stood. “Cookie...”

“They are usually harmless. This one especially I would imagine, considering his...condition.” Scotch could see the ponies face when the light of it's horn glowed. She saw a hoof emerge from under the robe and move over his face.

“You know about his amnesia?” Scotch said as she moved beside Cookie. She realized it wasn't really a blanket, but a very heavy cloak.

“It is one of the many things that I have been told. I was not, however...” His hoof moved down slowly. “I was not informed that the two new 'wizards' were just a little filly and a changeling.” He sighed softly and leaned back. “This ruins all my plans...”

Scotch was annoyed now. “I am not just some little filly and I hate how everypony keeps calling me one.”

“But you are,” the Wizard said as he leaned forward. “I am sure you have some magical talents but you are no great warrior...”

“W-warrior?” Scotch blinked several times, the image of her dressed as a knight, riding atop Cookie into battle popped into her head and...then the image went poorly.

“I cannot face the Empress, but she must be stopped. I had hoped that when I had gotten news of wizards entering the realm, that we would finally be able to stop her.”

“I'm feeding off of Scotch...” Cookie muttered, staring at the ground.

Scotch looked from the Wizard to Cookie. Tears were falling softly to the ground and he was staring at the droplets. “Cookie...” Scotch placed a hoof gently onto his leg. He recoiled from her, moving away from her.

“Most likely,” the Wizard said. “It is a harmless action, but he is most likely feeding off your love for him. If he did not, he would starve. It is lucky for him that he had found you.”

Scotch moved towards Cookie, looking up at him. “Please, Cookie...don't cry.”

Cookie was taking deep breaths. “I'm...some kind of monster...aren't I?”

She glared at the Wizard. “Technically he could be considered a monster, though a monster is more defined by actions than by what they are, wouldn't you say, Scotch?”

“Of course. And Cookie has been nothing like a monster.” It had been the first time that Scotch had ever seen Cookie unhappy and she didn't like it. She was so mad at the Wizard for saying things like that and making him cry.

“You are of course, welcome in the city...” the Wizard said with a sigh. “I will be forced to put my grand plan on hold...”

“Why can't you fight the Empress?” Scotch snapped, glaring at him.

The figure looked taken aback. “Me?” There was a moment of hesitation. “And leave the city defenseless? I am the only reason the city has not fallen. Has not already been conquered by her.”

Scotch didn't like that answer, but she was forced to accept it. Of course it was the most obvious answer. “She is that powerful?”

“I do not know the extent of her power; her limits. But I know that my power is enough to keep her away.”

“So then you do not think you could defeat her?”

The Wizard shifted. “I believe that it would be a fight that would cause more damage than it would solve.”

“She plans to destroy everything! How could your battle be more costly?” Scotch was even angrier now and stomped her hoof.

“I would not expect someone so young to understand. You are from Equestria, yes?”

She blinked, a bit caught of guard by the sudden subject change, and then nodded. “Yeah...”

“Then you have seen the type of power unicorns can wield. I am afraid that someday there will be a fight between her and I...but it will cost far more than it could possibly gain.” She noticed how he seemed to sink back in his throne. “No. It is safer in the city. And as long as I am here, she dare not attack it full on.”

“But what if she does?”

The glow slowly faded out. “Then I will think of something.”

They were outside the large doors once again in the middle hall between the outside and the Wizard's hall. No one was there but Scotch and Cookie. “Some all knowing wizard he is.”

Cookie had managed to stop crying, but still sagged with obvious sadness. “I don't want to feed off of Scotch.”

“But you heard the Wizard,” Scotch said, giving him a slight smile. “He said that it's harmless. And you would starve otherwise.”

“I don't like it...”

She nudged him slightly. “But it's nothing to worry about. Now...let's go find our friends. Forget what the Wizard said. It doesn't change who you are.”

He took a deep breath and then nodded. “Yes...but I was right to worry. I did not like the answer.”

12: Night

The party seemed to have died down quite a lot, with the creatures of this world returning to their daily tasks. But there was still music playing and everyone still appeared to be in good spirits. “Wonder how long it'll take before they find out we're not wizards...” Scotch muttered.

“What are you talking about?” Cookie said with a smile at her. He seemed to have shaken off whatever cloud had been hanging over his head. “He said we're whatever we call ourselves. So we're wizards if we want to be.”

“I...suppose that is what he said...” She gave him a bit of a smile.

“How did it go, my lady?” Sir Antwan said, he and the rest of their group were standing not far away.

“Great!” Cookie said with a large grin.

Scotch looked at him and then turned to Sir Antwan. “It could have gone better. Unfortunately we are not...not the wizards the Wizard thought we'd be.”

“Yup! And Scotch isn't just a wizard.” Everyone looked at Cookie. “According to the wizard, she's a warrior.”

Everyone then looked at Scotch, who shifted uncomfortably. “Well...technically he said I was no great warrior...”

“But you could be a great one.” Tacky said with a large smile on her face. “The wizard is wise, he knows what to say.”

She wanted to retort that she didn't believe that, but it would be quite rude. “Right...so I'm a not so great warrior and-”

“And we're both not so great wizards. But Scotch is a wizard, too. She's a warrior wizard!” Cookie seemed very proud of himself for coming up with that.

“The Wizard has given you both both quite the impressive titles,” Arthur said with a small smile. “I feel like times will be changing soon.”

“Of course they are,” Tacky said with a large smile. “Now, let's go and see the city. I've not been here many times and there's a little shop that I used to love going to.”

Scotch was immediately worried about any sort of shop Tacky would enjoy going to. “Actually I think...I think I'd like to sleep,” she said as she looked up at the large black buildings. “It's been a long day...”

“Oh! I'm sorry, dear. You've probably had a very long day.” She gave Scotch a smile. “I know just the place.”

It wasn't the type of place that Scotch had thought it would be and it actually looked like a very nice building. Scotch was starting to get bothered at the lack of color to the buildings, but the things that lived here dressed everything in bright colors. Banners and flags of all sorts hung from everything. The sign was quite simple and a bit odd. “Sleep Here,” Cookie read aloud, his brow scrunched as he stared at the sign.

“Odd name...but I suppose it makes sense.” Scotch looked around before they headed inside. There was quite a crowd following them.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Sir Antwan said as he moved to a sewer drain. “I have to make a report.”

“Good night, Sir Antwan,” Scotch said as he disappeared into the drain. She wondered if it flooded down there when it rained. Then she wondered if it even rained at all. The sky had been clear the entire time they had been here and it was lit with beautiful colors of red and violet as the sun set.

The inside of Sleep Here was a clean white, quite a contrast to the black of the outside. “Good evening.” There was a rather fat rabbit standing in front of them. “Rooms have already been made up for you and your companions, please follow me.”

“Did you know we were coming?” Cookie said as they followed the rabbit to an odd door.

“Of course. Everyone who does not live here stays at Sleep Here.” The door opened to a small room and everyone went inside. Scotch had heard of things like this, a sort of lift. Cookie however had a confused look on his face, especially when the door shut and the room shook slightly.

When the door opened again to show a hallway, he was even more confused. “Did that room move, or did everything else?”

“We went up. Or down,” Scotch said as they walked down the hallway. They were showed into a very nice room with two large beds.

Cookie immediately dove at the nearest bed and burrowed under the blankets. “What is this soft thing?!” he shouted from somewhere in the mass of blankets.

“Thank you,” Scotch said to the rabbit as he made his way back down the hall, followed by Tacky and Arthur. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight dearies,” Tacky said with a smile.

Scotch smiled before she entered the room. “It's a bed, Cookie.”

“Oh gosh...and we get to sleep here?” His head popped out from under the blankets, a large grin on his face.

“Yes.” She hopped up onto the other bed. It was far larger than any bed she had seen, it was built for something bigger than ponies that was for sure. “It'll be nice to sleep in a bed again...not that you weren't comfortable, but there's something about blankets that are nice.” She put her bag down before she nuzzled her way under the blankets and got comfortable.

There was the shifting of the bed and the pull of the blanket as Cookie crawled into her bed. “It's so warm...” He sounded like he was falling asleep already.

Her brow furrowed as he invaded her bed. She had to shift a bit in order to look at him, and though she was going to protest, when she saw how comfortable he looked she didn't have the heart. She sighed softly as she shifted a bit to get comfortable once again, letting sleep slowly seep in.

~
Her eyes snapped open and she flailed around a moment before she escaped the blankets. The room was dark and outside the window was dark as well. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She could remember nothing about the nightmare she had just had and that frustrated her. It was an annoying feeling to be scared at something that not only wasn't real, but couldn't even be remembered.

What was worse is that, she was thirsty. She shifted and crawled off the bed, finding that the floor was ridiculously cold on her hooves. She grumbled as she made her way over to a little sink that was in the room. It was an odd place for a sink, but she wasn't going to complain at this point. The water was cold and refreshing, and she felt a lot better. When she had had nightmares in the past, it had been easy to ignore them, because they were so ridiculous.

A nightmare seemed so farfetched that it was easy to dismiss it, but she had seen so many impossible things in one day that they seemed more real than her old life. From the porcelain little pony to the boa wearing flamingo, her life seemed to have gone from bad to just plain weird. She stopped as she stared out the window. It looked like there was nothing outside it. Nothing at all. Her brow furrowed as she walked towards it slowly, it almost looked like the darkness was...rubbing against the glass; pushing on it.

She walked over to her bag and retrieved one of her candles. She took it towards the window before she focused. The candle lit without too much difficulty. She started to feel like she was really getting the hang of it. But that thought was pushed from her head as she saw the darkness retreat. Not just disappear in the light, but actually retreat, as though the light actually hurt it. What it revealed was a sort of deck, or the roof of some other building. She realized that what she had thought was a window was actually a door made of glass.

Her curiosity was getting the better of her as she could swear the darkness was actually pushing on the light, as if trying to find a weak point. It shifted and crawled over and around the small area of light as though it were alive. “Cookie?” she whispered, looking back at the bed. There was just a lump that was Cookie. “Cookie,” she hissed.

But there was no reaction from Cookie, just the soft rise and fall as he breathed. She frowned slightly as she looked back out the glass door. Part of her wanted to go back to bed. Part of her wanted to just blow out the candle and pretend that she had not seen anything. Then there was the intense feeling of curiosity. The feeling that she wanted to figure out what was going on. She quickly went to her bag and got a second candle, leaving the other inside. She wanted to be able to find her room again easily, and leaving a lit candle seemed the best idea. The second candle proved a little more difficult to light but she managed.

She looked outside once again, trying to figure out what was going through her head before she pulled the glass door open. It slid slowly to the side in an odd way that she had not expected at first. She lead with the candle, keeping it in front of her as she went outside. Her heart was racing as she watched the darkness retreat once again. She closed the door carefully before taking a few steps away from it. It was then she realized something a tad disturbing as she looked around; there was no moon, no stars, not a single light. Just darkness.

13: Darkness

Scotch wasn't afraid of the dark, it was an illogical fear. However, she was terrified of what was in the dark. She had come across all manner of creatures in the last two days and she was fairly certain that this darkness was alive. It was pressing against the light in a manner that shouldn't be possible. It was beyond the absence of light. Something had filled that absence. But the light kept it away.

She was using the candle as a sort of defense, regretting ever coming out, but now she couldn't go back because it had filled the gap between her light and the one she'd left. She would have to retrace her steps and hope to find her way back. That being the case, she couldn't figure out why she was still walking forward with this odd sense of determination.

Something was driving her forward, or perhaps more so drawing her forward. She came to the conclusion that the city was oddly built, since she had obviously gone up or down, yet seemed to be on street level. The flicker of the candle caused her to stop. Now that she stopped, the darkness seemed to shift around her once again; poking and prodding at the light.

The candle went out. There was the immediate sense of panic as suddenly she was in a globe of darkness. She yelped and covered her eyes. There was a few moments of nothing, so she opened her eyes. She was once again in light, a light brighter than the candle. Her brow furrowed and then she looked up. She could feel the heat and immediately knew she had, once again, lit her horn on fire.

At first she frowned but quickly realized that it had probably saved her. Apparently she had tried to relight the candle in her panic, a candle that had somehow rolled away in the time she had cowered. The darkness had been driven quite a ways back now, and she could see the light actually touch the nearby buildings before being compressed down towards her by the darkness. Yet it kept a wide distance now; the light of her horn was brighter than that of the candle.

As she focused, the flame grew brighter and brighter, and the darkness moved farther and farther back. That was an incredibly satisfying feeling. She took a deep breath, watching as the light shrank as she inhaled and expanded as she exhaled. Usually she panicked when her horn lit on fire, but now that it was actually something that she had to do, she realized it was not that bad. It was not hot like normal fire, just warm. It reminded her of wearing a woolly hat.

She had seen unicorns produce light from their horns and she could do the same, but her light was cast by fire. She looked around, trying to find the direction her candle had rolled, but there wasn't so much as a bit of wax on the ground. “Where did you go, little candle?” she muttered as she walked in a large circle. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel frightened to be alone.

Eventually she found it, standing on the other side of a rather large ditch. She paused a moment as she thought it out. Obviously there was no way the candle could have made its way across the gap, it would have fallen. The probability of it also standing straight up was extremely unlikely as well. With a bit of focus she managed to get it to light. There was a loud, “Yipe!” And she saw something sprinting off into the darkness.

Then the candled went out. There was no panic this time, as she had not let the flame of her horn go out. “Who's there?” she called out and then shrank down slightly as she remembered that there were things trying to sleep around her. She cleared her throat, a bit embarrassed. She spotted a bridge nearby that lead over the gap and quickly trotted over and across it. There was something moving around in the darkness, aside from the darkness itself.

By the time she had gotten to it, the candle was gone. Now she was starting to get frustrated. Something had put out her candle and now it had stolen it. She walked around trying to find it once again.

“Where are you?” she said, her voice softer than before. She spun as she heard something skitter behind her, only to find nothing there. Was it toying with her? Was she imagining things? Either way she had had quite enough of it and made her way back over the bridge. “Fine, you can just...have it,” she muttered. She had another candle in her bag, and then there was the one she had left by the glass door.

She still did not like the darkness around her, or the thing running around in it. Perhaps it was a mouse, like Sir Antwan? She had not noticed this odd darkness when she was below the city. But then again, it was not inside the buildings, either. The way that it seemed alive was just plain creepy. She would have to ask someone about it and hopefully get some sort of explanation. She stopped suddenly as she came to another ditch. She stared at it a moment. She had been retracing her steps, heading back to her room.

“Did I get turned around somewhere?” she muttered as she started to walk around, trying to find some hint of where she had came from. She stopped suddenly as she came across her candle once again.

The candle sat straight up, as if waiting to be found. Scotch frowned at it and walked around it in a wide circle. She was not fond of whatever game was being played. Again she was regretting going on her little adventure all by herself. She should have just stayed in her room and gone back to sleep, ignoring the darkness that pressed against the glass.

Fear was starting to creep in again. “Who's there?” she said again, trying to be loud and quiet at the same time. Of course she wasn't surprised when she got no response. Experimentally she decided to light the candle. It took her a few tries to get it to light at this distance. She had never realized that she had to aim it so carefully, as little sparks burst on the ground and in the air around the candle. Finally the candle lit, lighting up a small area in comparison to her own little flame.

Now the fear was replaced with frustration. She had expected something to happen, but nothing did. Still, she walked cautiously as she approached the lit candle. The biggest surprise was the fact that it did not go out. She stared at it, as if daring it to do anything but sit there and be a candle. She gave it a nudge with her hoof and it fell over, rolling a bit until it caught on the edge of a flagstone. Again she stared at it, but it seemed inclined to remain a candle.

“Hmph.” She turned away from the candle and walked away, intent to leave it in the street. Part of her didn't trust it. It was very suspicious and she didn't like it. Besides that, she didn't need it anymore. She sighed softly as she began trying to find her way back once again. She had not thought it would have been this difficult. “I must have lost track of where I was when I was looking for that stupid candle,” she muttered. Usually she was fairly good with retracing her steps and keeping things all in order, but there was something about the darkness that threw off her sense of direction.

She sat down in a huff. How could she not find her way back after this much time? There were only so many ways to go, but she just kept running into either dead ends, unfamiliar roads, or ditches. This entire city was built like some sort of maze. She was fairly certain that she wasn't even in the same area as where she had been.

The thought occurred to her how calm she felt. Well, calm was not the correct term exactly, more so she was just surprised that she was not worried, or frightened. She was just frustrated and angry. For a moment she wondered if the darkness was flammable. Her face scrunched slightly as she randomly made a spark out in the darkness. She tried again, trying to make a flame, but when nothing caught fire; she had to concede that it couldn't burn.

Scotch sighed heavily as she stood up and began walking again, this time she had no destination. This world was frustrating to her and the longer she stayed and the more she learned, the more frustrated she got. “My lady?” She jumped and spun on the spot, trying to spot Sir Antwan, who she could hear but not see. “What are you doing out here?”

“I...” She paused as she tried to figure out for herself why she was out here. “I don't know. I woke up and got curious as to what was outside.”

“The dark stuff?” He was coming out of a drain at the side of the street. “It's nothing to worry about. Not for someone- are you aware you're on fire?”

She stared at him a moment. “Yes.”

He returned the stare quite blankly. “Alright. Just making sure. Do you...often light on fire?”

“Not really. I try not to, but I dropped my candle and- well, it's not important. Can you help me get back to my room? I got quite lost trying to find my candle.”

He gave a wide sweeping bow in which he removed his hat. “It would be an honor.”

14: The Purse

When Scotch woke in the morning, she forgot for a moment what had happened, dismissing it as a dream. Until she saw Sir Antwan standing outside the glass door, calmly watching the streets. She grumbled slightly, trying to convince herself that there was still the chance that it was a dream and he was just there because he was waiting for them to get up, but that was a bit too far-fetched for it to just be a coincidence.

“Good morning!” Cookie was up and about already, eating the breakfast that was brought for them.

Scotch was curious as to if there was any reason Cookie needed to eat since he was a changeling, but she knew so little about them that she guessed they needed to eat as well. “Morning,” she said with a yawn.

“C'mon and eat! We've got a lot to do today!” He was trying to grin but also remain polite and not show her a mouth full of food.

“Do we?” She stumbled a bit off the bed and towards the food. There was more food there than she had ever seen in her life, and she could barely name a quarter of the things there.

“Yup! Arthur came by with the food and said there's lotsa people we need to talk to.” Again he tried to grin with his mouth full.

“I...see...” She didn't, but it seemed to be the polite thing to say before she dug in. She had thought the food at the restaurant was tasty, but this was delicious.

“Yes. The librarian librarian wants to speak with you.” Scotch nearly choked on what she had been eating. She had not noticed Arthur among the piles of food. “He would not say why why.”

She gulped down a large amount of what she could only guess was some sort of juice, as it was sweet and tangy. “Alright...sounds good to me. Hopefully it's some good news.”

“Why? Have you had any any bad news?” Arthur was walking between plates towards her.

“Not particularly bad. I would just like something that makes sense and leads to something good.” She went back to eating to avoid the subject.

Arthur did not press her. “Tacky is waiting for us downstairs downstairs. They refused to let her bag onto the lift, and she refused to leave it in the lobby lobby.”

Scotch chuckled softly though she did her best to not. Scotch had found it impossible to imagine Tacky without her large purse. But the real question was: “Why wont they let her bring it on the lift?” Cookie asked, his head tilted to the side and a confused look on his face.

“They are afraid of it it.” Arthur had taken a seat on an overturned teacup. Overturned cups seemed to be his favorite place to sit, probably because they matched his size so well and were made of similar things.

“Why would they be afraid of a purse?” Scotch had the same confused expression as Cookie.

“Because it is a Devourer. It eats things things that get too close. No one is sure how she tamed tamed it, probably feeds it a lot of things, but it can be quite dangerous dangerous.” Scotch found that Arthur was very good at explaining things in this world. “It usually does what she says. Emphasis on usually usually.”

The glass door opened and Sir Antwan stepped inside. “It's officially morning,” he said.

“They didn't have a problem with it last night...and what do you mean officially?” Scotch had never heard it put that way before.

“They didn't know last night. And it means that it's morning.” He didn't seem to understand the question.

But Sir Antwan seemed to have a better grasp, “It is not officially morning until the sun can be seen over the wall.”

“But that would mean that the lower places start morning later?” Cookie said, his brow furrowed in an effort to think. “Those high up would see the sun first, and so they would have morning earlier?”

“Yes,” was all the answer he got.

~

Down in the lobby, Scotch had a new worry in the back of her mind: Tacky's purse. She had not given it much thought, other than it was gaudy and an eyesore, but now that she was actually looking at it with new found knowledge, she noticed it quite resembled a scrunched up crocodile wearing some sort of harness. It took quite a bit of looking to actually see it due to the fact that it seemed to be wearing a large handbag. The way it wore it allowed it to not only use it as a sort of turtle shell, but apparently the bag itself was still fully functional as Scotch had seen Tacky put in and pull out several things. It was also giving her quite an unsettling look. She moved towards Arthur, not taking her eyes off the purse. “So, what exactly is a Devourer?”

Arthur looked at the purse, and the purse looked back at him. And Scotch thought the look it gave him was unsettling... “It's a creature that eats anything. They take random random shapes dependent on their environment. You would have to ask Tacky Tacky for more information on this one...”

She did not like that idea, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. So she went up to Tacky, who was reading a magazine of some kind. “Uhm...Tacky?” She looked up with a large beaky smile. “Can I ask you about your purse?”

“Hm?” She looked down at her side, and then her other side as if expecting the bag to have disappeared. “Ah, of course deary.” Tacky picked up the bag and set it on her lap. “I'm sure you've been hearing those nasty words that these people say about it, and I can assure you that most of it is untrue.”

“Most?”

“Well, obviously you don't gain the nickname Devourer for nothing. But Zipper has always been a very good boy. He's not even so much as bitten anything he's not supposed to since we got here. Isn't that right, Zipper.” Scotch hated that goo goo type of voice, but Zipper seemed pleased at the praise.

Scotch moved a few hooves closer to Zipper, who eyed her with a sort of annoyed curiosity, giving her the impression the only reason it was not trying to eat her was the fact that Tacky was there. “How long have you had Zipper?”

“Oh a very long time, dear. Can't quite remember when exactly, but he was in a box that got delivered to me. I assume he was some kind of gift, as it is very difficult to accidentally deliver something to me.” There was an oddly knowing look on Zipper's face, as if he knew that they were discussing him.

It brought to question his intelligence. “He is very interesting. Is he...wearing that handbag, or is it part of him?”

Tacky stared at her a moment, processing the question. “Oh it's one of his handbags. He has dozens of them, but this one is his traveling one.” She lifted him up slightly, showing the bottom of the bag, his legs flailed slightly. “It's got a tougher bottom than the others, cus he tends to drag along. Short legs, you see?” She was using one of her flippered legs to wiggle his foot.

“Yes, that would cause him do drag his stomach against the ground.” Zipper was still vaguely flailing his legs in an attempt to climb the air and looked quite annoyed when Tacky put him back down.

Scotch watched as he stomped around a moment to make himself comfortable before laying down again. “Are we ready to go go now?” Arthur asked as he landed upon Scotch's back. She realized he weighed practically nothing.

Tacky put the magazine into her purse and stood up. Zipper reluctantly hopped down off the couch, though it looked as if Tacky pulled him down. “Yes, we're all here, so let us be off, to the library.”

Scotch nodded as she looked over at Cookie, who was looking at his reflection in a rather polished pillar. There was this intense look on his face as though he was thinking quite hard. She moved up to him and Arthur fluttered off to join Tacky more towards the door. “Cookie?”

“Hm?” He did not look away from his reflection.

“Are you ready to go?” She couldn't help but feel concerned.

“Scotch...what are we going to do?” He was having one of his odd bursts of intelligence. His gaze turned to her reflection.

She looked at her reflection as well. “I don't know. Everything is all...muddled.”

“So we just...keep going till we find out?” He looked down at her with his head tilted to the side.

Cookie's expression made her heart feel twisted in knots. It was the most lost, yet hopeful look she had ever seen. “Yes...we just keep going and find out what we're supposed to do. Together.”

“Together,” he said with a nod as he looked over at Tacky and the rest of the group. “Together with our friends.”

Scotch smiled a bit. “Yeah...a bit of a ragtag group we've got going on.” Cookie stared blankly at her; apparently the burst had been spent. “Ragtag, it means untidy, disorganized, or varied in character.”

He continued to stare blankly at her.

“It means we're all different,” she tried.

“Yes, we are.” He smiled and trotted off towards the door. Scotch was fairly certain he didn't entirely understand it, but it didn't really matter with how scatter brained he was. “Come, Ragtag!” Cookie announced as he walked outside. “To adventure!”

Scotch frowned slightly. Apparently he was going to take that word to heart. Tacky, Arthur, and Sir Antwan, who had been outside, exchanged glances. “Ragtag?” Arthur said and looked back at Scotch.

“I like the sound of that,” Tacky said with a large smile, somehow standing up straighter. “Makes us sound important.”

“Not...really what it means,” Scotch mumbled.

“So we are the Ragtag?” Sir Antwan looked at Tacky and then at Cookie.

“I...does no one know what that word means?” Scotch said, a tad flustered.

“It is good to have a name name for our group,” Arthur agreed, smiling at Cookie, who had taken up what he must have thought of as a heroic pose.

“And you're all going to ignore me?” Scotch said as the rest of the group started to move on, chattering excitedly about their new title. That frustrated Scotch. The only one who seemed to notice was Cookie, who looked at her.

“I'm listening,” he said with a smile. “I don't understand it, well I mean I kind of do, but I still like how it sounds. And it makes them happy.” He nodded towards to the rest of the Ragtag.

Scotch sighed softly, admitting to herself that it was already too late to take it back or change it. “Fine...I guess we're the Ragtag, or something.”

Cookie smiled at her and then picked her up, placing her on his back once again. “We're going to have adventures, right?”

She looked at him a moment as he followed after the rest of the Ragtag, and couldn't help but smile a bit. “Yeah...adventure.”

“Or something?”

She smiled a bit more. “Yeah. Or something.”