//------------------------------//
// Pt.1 - Chapter 6 
// Story: The Starlight Broadcast 
// by ponyfhtagn 
//------------------------------//

“Awww. But you’d look so cute,” Rarity said.
Spike firmly folded the new dog costume and put it aside. “Nope. No more dogs.”
“What about a cat?” Rarity suggested. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”
Spike shuddered. “Yeah… I don’t think I get along with your cat.”
“Pardon?”
“Uh. I mean… I don’t think I’d get along as your cat.”
Rarity slouched against her sewing table. “I think I understand. I’ve been having so much fun sneaking you around and dressing you up these past few days, searching for the castle table. But I can see why that wouldn’t necessarily be fun for you.”
Spike nodded awkwardly. “Um… but… thanks anyway.”
Rarity sat up and looked out her bedroom window, now with glass properly replaced.
“Maybe things have calmed down enough for you to just… walk around,” she theorised.
“No, you were right,” Spike said. “Dragons don’t just walk around with ponies in these times. And if anypony found out I had anything to do with the Event—”
“Darling, wouldn’t it be the simplest thing to just tell Celestia everything?” Rarity suddenly said.
Spike looked up. Rarity was looking at him most sincerely.
“…about the spell and Twilight and the bad unicorn,” Rarity went on. “Doesn’t this sound like something she should know? Don’t you think she could help?”
Spike wrung his claws together, staring down at his feet. “I… suppose.”
“You’ve been acting awfully strange, is everything alright?” Rarity asked. “It’s just that we’ve been making plans to go visit Canterlot but you keep putting it off. Another day to check if the table has appeared. And yet you seem pretty sure it’s not going to.”
Spike continued to fidget.
“Spike,” Rarity said flatly. “Why don’t you want to talk to Celestia?”
Spike took a moment to choose his words. “I kind of… already tried that.”
“What? When?”
“When you went out with your family for that thing with the other foals.”
Rarity rolled her eyes at the memory. “The ‘It’s Okay to Play Day’ that the Mayor organised so all the children could burn off some energy? Yes. That was dreadfully forced. I couldn’t wait until it was over.”
Spike nodded. “Well. I was stuck here, so… I tried sending Celestia a letter.”
“You mean the thing you do where you roll up the paper and set it on fire.”
“Yes,” Spike said. “It’s a thing. Okay? I usually works.”
“If you say so.” Rarity shrugged. “So what happened this time?”
“I’m not really sure,” Spike said, still fidgeting. “All I wrote was ‘Is anypony there?’ –because I couldn’t be sure it would even work. But what happened was—” He frowned. “I sent the letter. To the proper Celestia, in this time and place. I focused on her and I sent the letter. And then a few second later I felt this…”
Rarity waited. “This what?”
Spike’s claws began to fidget faster. “This kind of… attack.”
“An attack?”
“It was like my whole body was buzzing and my head was—It was just a mess! It hurt really bad, and it didn’t stop for a long time. Like, maybe almost a minute. And then everything just ached and I had to lie down. I don’t know…” Spike was looking away. His claws were still palpitating together.
Rarity’s eyes drifted. “So that explains it. I remember coming home and I found your curled up in your basket and you were whimpering and shivering. I thought maybe you were just having a bad dream. Or maybe you were.”
“I don’t know why she’d do that,” Spike said. His tone seemed wounded. “And she hasn’t sent me any letters or anything. I was worried all the next day that someone from the royal guard was going to show up. But no. And nopony’s been following us, as far as I can tell.”
“How very strange,” Rarity sympathised. “Whatever do you think it means?”
“I don’t know…” Spike said. “But you can see why I’m not exactly keen to go meet Celestia right now.”
Rarity drew breath and nodded soberly. “Of course. Of course. My poor Spike. Ooh. Maybe it’s better if we just give Canterlot a miss for the moment. Try for Manehatten instead. I just sort of liked the idea of having some pony we could talk to about all of this. Somepony who might know what to do.”
Spike nodded. “I know. Whenever I need help I always just talk to Twilight.”
“Well what does Twilight do if she needs help?”
“Asks Celestia,” Spike said. Then he thought for a moment. “Or… Zecora.”
“Where!?” Rarity cried, and dived for cover under her blankets.
“What?” Spike said, staring in disbelief at the quivering lump. “Rarity, come out of there. What’s wrong?”
Rarity’s head peeped out from under the blankets. “Well you said her name and I thought you had seen her or something. Honestly, Spike, don’t do that to me.”
Spike slapped himself in the forehead. “Are you kidding me? Has the whole of Ponyville just been like this until Twilight showed up?”
“Spike, you’re not making sense. Is Zecora lurking around or not?”
“Well at least that tells me she’s here,” Spike said.
“So she is here?” Rarity squeaked.
Spike folded his arms. “Why are you so afraid of her?”
“Well—” Rarity started. She scrunched her face in thought. “Well, because—Because everypony is. It’s just how she is, Spike. She’s spooky. Nopony knows where she came from. Nopony knows what she wants. And her stripes, Spike. So garish.”
Spike hopped up on the bed and took Rarity’s hoof in a gentle gesture. “Okay. I’m going to tell you what we all learned the first time this happened. Zecora’s not scary, or spooky, or evil. She’s not an enchantress and she’s not going to put a curse on anypony. She’s actually really clever and knows lots of things and always has really good advice. Twilight and I would go to her for help all the time.”
Rarity shifted away from Spike a bit. “I don’t know, Spike. She looks pretty weird.”
“Rarity. I look pretty weird,” Spike said. “But I’m just a dragon. That’s all. Zecora is a zebra. She’s more pony than I am. And if you can make friends with a dragon, and a farm pony, like you said…”
Rarity grit her teeth. “I can make friends with… Oh, but Zecora? Really?”
Spike sighed and hopped off the bed. “I’ll wear the new dog costume if you promise to come with me.”
Rarity pouted. “You know it annoys me that you’ve got me so easily figured out already.”

The Everfree Forest loomed with all it’s mass of shadow and twisted trees.
“What now, Spike?” Rarity said. “Are you going to tell me to make friends with the forest? Are you going to say that the forest isn’t really scary and dangerous, it’s just misunderstood? Do you want me to hug a tree?”
“No…” Spike said, staring up at the canopy before them. “No, I’m pretty sure the forest is legitimately dangerous and scary. I mean… There’s timberwolves in there.”
“You see? This just goes to further my apprehension. What kind of a pony would willingly live in such a place if she weren’t some spooky dangerous thing herself.”
“Well what’s she supposed to do?” Spike asked. “Every time she comes into town all the ponies just run away and hide. She can’t go to the markets. I really doubt she’s going to be able to rent a cottage.”
Rarity didn’t have an answer for that so she just stuck her tongue out. “Mnyehhh.”
“Come on. Let’s go,” Spike said, adjusting the dog-collar of his new costume.
Today he wore a coat of dark grey with white sock-markings, a white muzzle and a white diamond mark on the forehead. Rarity was very talented, yes, but that didn’t stop Spike from feeling especially silly every time he went outside these days.
Rarity, by contrast, was only wearing a set of water-proof boots and a plain blue handkerchief around her neck. She couldn’t bare to sacrifice any other garment to the ravages of the Everfree Forest.
There were only a few paces in and already the light level had dropped to almost dusk-like quality. Rarity was making hushed sounds of disgust at everything she suspected she was stepping in.
“What about the timberwolves?” Rarity whispered.
“Don’t worry,” Spike whispered back. “I’ve had a few run-ins with timberwolves in my time,” he boasted. “I’ve learned how to smell them before they even get close. Their breath stinks.”
“Everything in this awful place rather stinks,” Rarity muttered.
“Watch your step here,” Spike said, directing her down a slope. “Careful of that log. There you go. This way.”
Rarity shuddered. “What about the other horrible things that live here? Huge nasty creatures.”
“Well most of them only come out at night.”
“Oh? How can they tell…” Rarity deadpanned, glaring up at the canopy.
“Watch it!” Spike exclaimed.
Rarity froze. “What? Is it a monster?”
“No,” Spike said. He pointed at a patch of blue flowers. “Worse.”
“Those little things?” Rarity said. “Oh, but they’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen of this place so far.”
“They’re called Poison Joke,” Spike told her. “Trust me. Don’t touch them. They’re gonna make you a hairy mess, like a sheep-dog.”
Rarity gave a visible shudder and clenched her eyes shut. “Oh why did I let you bring me to this horrible place?”
“Who goes there!?” spoke a voice from the misty distance. “Friend or foe?”
Spike and Rarity froze.
“I’d ask again, but I already know…” the voice continued.
Spike saw the silhouette turning to walk away. “Wait!” he called out. “Zecora, wait. Friends. We’re friends.”
Spike darted carefully around the blue flowers to catch up to her; and Rarity followed but made little whining sounds the whole time.
“Friend you say? I disagree,” Zecora continued. “I have no pony friends, you see.”
“And I’m no pony,” Spike said, springing in front of her.
Zecora took a startled step back.
Spike was caught similarly by surprise when he saw her properly. “Oh… wow.”
She was Zecora, yes. The same wise zebra Spike had already met. Only here she was younger. Not a filly or even a lanky adolescent, but not quite the mature adult that Spike had grown accustomed to. Otherwise she appeared mostly the same. Her jewellery was slightly different. Perhaps her crested mane was a bit looser; Spike did notice the crest became a braid further down, which rested over her right shoulder.
“Certainly you are no pony,” Zecora whispered, staring at him. “So tell me, how is it you know me?”
A twig snapped. Zecora turned to see Rarity sneaking up.
“Oh!” Rarity exclaimed, and tried to shrink down away from scrutiny.
“I’m Spike,” he continued. “And this is my friend Rarity.”
“N-n-nice to meet you,” Rarity said.
“I’m a dragon,” Spike said proudly.
Zecora quirked an eyebrow. Then she chuckled. “Dragon? I could not be sure, with such soft fur and puppy paws.”
Spike looked down at himself and blushed in annoyance. He fussed to wriggle out of the costume but tripped and ended up rolling around on the ground in a tangle.
Rarity couldn’t help but giggle. Suddenly she and Zecora were both laughing as if they were just a couple of ponies who’d seen something funny on a walk through town together.
“Oh, Spike. Let me help.”
Rarity went up and got the zipper open the rest of the way. She folded up the costume and draped it over her back. Then she flicked her tail a few times to dust him off.
“I got it!” Spike complained, shuffling away and brushing himself down.
“Well, little creature,” Zecora said. “Or dragon, you say. I think we should talk. If you’ll both come this way.”
Rarity and Spike exchanged glances and shrugged.
“Told you she’s nice,” Spike said.
“Wellllll…” Rarity conceded. “I do admire her taste in earrings.”
So they both followed the young Zecora the rest of the way to her house.

Zecora’s hut was not the way Spike remembered it. It was less of a hollowed out tree and more of a constructed platform up in the crowning branches of a completely different tree altogether.
“This is new,” Spike said as they climbed.
The stairs were made from planks of wood that jutted out from the tree trunk and helixed around until they reached the platform.
“I thought you said you’d been here before,” Rarity whispered to him.
“I guess she’d moved house by the time I knew her,” he whispered back.
The dwelling above was solid and sturdy and quite well built. It had a roof and a few walls, composed of timber or the branches of the living tree; but it wasn’t fully enclosed. It was attractive and interesting but… Spike could see why she had eventually moved to being indoors. (Or in-tree as it were.)
“Forgive this most untidy home,” Zecora said, sweeping leaves and twigs over the ledge with her tail. “I would have cleaned if I had known that I would soon be having guests. Excuse me while I do my best. It’s quite a state, I must confess. The blast has left a dreadful mess.”
Spike’s eyes tracked to a wooden bucket in one corner where broken potion bottles had been deposited, along with a couple of water-damaged books.
“Just yesterday I fixed the roof,” Zecora continued. “Or you would have seen the real proof of what my home has suffered through. But now, all clean. I welcome you.” She pulled out two simple wooden stools and seated herself on a third.
Rarity looked nervously at Spike for reassurance.
Zecora nodded again to the seats. “Don’t resist. I insist.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Spike said, stepping up to the offer.
Rarity hesitated a moment longer and eventually shuffled over to sit beside him.
“So…” Zecora said. “The two of you, I do not know. This town would treat me as their foe. Yet you come here declaring; no. That’s quite a change to undergo.”
Rarity leaned in to whisper to Spike. “…why does she talk like that?”
“Though one of you is quite at ease…” Zecora folded her forelegs across her chest. “It seems the filly disagrees.”
Rarity straightened up at once and gave a nervous laugh.
“Zecora,” Spike interrupted. “This is going to sound strange, but we need your advice. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only pony we can even talk to about this. I know you don’t owe us anything. I mean, I can’t believe you’ve actually been here for all these years and everypony in town had just been ignoring you. So I understand how us turning up like this must seem kind of weird.”
Zecora let her eyes wander over the little dragon. “Here all these years—you say to me. Yet I have lived here only three.”
Spike hissed a breath. “That’ssss… part of what I’m about to tell you.”
And so he told her. Everything he had tried to explain to Rarity already, only by now Spike had managed to organise the important details in a more concise way. Also it helped that Zecora never interrupted him.
In fact, she made tea while he talked, which he was very appreciative of.
“Thanks,” Spike said as she passed him the wooden cup of warm green liquid. “And that’s pretty much it. I think Twilight and Starlight must have gotten pulled back into the time portal and I got stuck here. I don’t even know if it was a time portal this time. Everything just went so… wrong.” He looked down into his drink. Then perked up. “But Rarity’s been a big help. We’ve started looking for our friends again. We’re maybe thinking of reconnecting the Elements of Harmony. I told you about those, right?”
Zecora nodded.
“Right…” Spike said. He sipped tea and waited.
Rarity sniffed at her drink cautiously and eventually decided that it was much too cold out to be declining warm beverages. She sipped tea also; and smiled.
“If all these things you say are true,” Zecora began at last. “I certainly don’t envy you. Your memories are a gift. A curse. And I can think of nothing worse—to see the world unfold anew, and contradict what you hold true…” She took a deep breath. “And so to steer from tragic ends, you seek to reunite your friends?”
Spike nodded. “The Elements of Harmony can fix anything. I’ve got to believe they can fix this, too. And if they can’t…”
“If they cannot, you say. Then what?”
Spike looked out at the lurking shadows of the Everfree Forest. “…then we might just need them anyway, because bad things are coming. A whole lot of them. And Equestria needs the Elements.”
Zecora ran a hoof around the rim of her cup. “This is a wise move, I agree. But do consider, could it be… for all the ways a stream may flow, you only seek the path you know?”
Spike cradled his drink and tilted his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Zecora tried again. “Your memories are a story told. A set of rules you now uphold. Consider though, the game has changed, and all the pieces rearranged. To try and grasp the same result is to be loyal to a fault.” Zecora looked him in the eyes. “While time is young, do as you care. But do make sure you are aware… if things fall too far out of line, you must adopt a new design.”
Spike stared down into his now empty cup and shook his head. “With Twilight gone… I can’t see a way forward right now that doesn’t involve the Elements of Harmony.”
Rarity spoke up at last. “I agree with Spike. These Elements sound pretty important. Besides, nopony else seems to have a better idea.”
Zecora nodded. “Very well. I do agree. Thankyou for sharing this with me. I moved here to explore this land—yet it seems I’ve found a quest more grand.” She smiled playfully. “These Elements are six, you say? Encased in stone and hid away?”
“In the Castle of The Two Sisters,” Spike said. “It’s in ruins here in the forest.”
“This ruined castle I have seen, though I have never closely been. But if the Elements are there…” Zecora winked. “You can entrust them to my care.”
Spike breathed a sigh. “Thankyou. It’s… It’s just good to have your help.”
“Mmm. I agree,” Rarity said. “We’ve just sort of been wandering around for a few days, not really sure what to do. But after hearing Spike tell the story again…”
“I think it’s clear that we should at least try the Elements,” Spike finished. “Equestria’s going to need them. One way or another.”
Rarity nodded. “And it’s nice to know we can always come back and talk to you about this. Honestly, there isn’t another pony we could really bring this to.” Rarity quirked a guilty smile. “To be fair… I wasn’t exactly sure about coming here myself.”
Zecora chuckled. “Ah yes. In trips to Ponyville I find the streets are empty still.”
“We can probably fix that,” Spike said. “We could talk to everypony and get them to meet you properly and see how nice you are.” He shrugged. “It worked before.”
Zecora smiled at this notion. “No, no, my little friends. Not yet. Thought I will call upon this debt. For now, I think, I’ll leave it be. Let them recover before they meet me.”
Rarity winced. “The streets are in a bit of a state.”
“Besides,” Zecora said to Spike. “How will you give them your critique? I did not know that dogs could speak.”
Spike blushed again. “Oh, right.”
“Oo. That was my idea,” Rarity boasted. “If you think Ponyville is giving you a wide berth I’m sure you can just imagine how ponies would react to seeing a dragon in the streets. Even if he is the most adorable little purple pudding-pie.” Rarity rubbed his head with her hoof.
Spike made a face and hopped off his stool to get away. “Rarity, cut it out.”
“This is payback for dragging me into the Everfree Forest,” Rarity said. “Now let me squish your cheeks.”
Spike hissed.
Rarity stuck out her tongue. “Mnyehhhh!”
Zecora got up and kindly took the empty cups back. “I would not overstep my bounds. But perhaps you need not dress as hounds.”
Spike perked up his ears. “Say again?”
“If your appearance you must hide, there is some help I can provide,” Zecora said as she put the cups back next to the teapot.
Spike and Rarity exchanged looks, then turned back to Zecora. “Go on…”
“I could mix for you a disguise potion. But I think I have a better notion.” The zebra went to a wooden chest and began searching through the contents. Finally she brought out a bracelet made of some black material.
“How unusual. It is stone or wood?” Rarity asked, peering intently at the jewellery.
“Chitin shell, I understand,” Zecora said. “From creatures from a far-off land. Wear this and you may change your form. But it must be powered by a unicorn.”
Rarity and Spike exchanged glances again. This time Spike looked quickly away.
“I think I know what this came from,” Spike said.
Zecora narrowed her eyes at him. “If you have fought these creatures too, I truly underestimated you.”
Spike took the bracelet and slipped it onto his left wrist. He pushed it a little further up and made it an armband. “Okay. Now what?”
“Rarity, to cast the spell direct your magic at it’s shell,” Zecora instructed.
“That’s it?” she said. “Not a set incantation, just… power?”
Zecora nodded.
“…okay then. Here we go.”
Rarity lowered her horn at the armband and tried to think the most harmless thoughts before she unleashed the beam of bright blue magic. It struck the black chitin shell and was instantly absorbed. The dull darkness of the armband seemed to shimmer and become brighter—like the difference between sanded timber and polished oak floors.
“Whoa!” Spike said, trying to hold his own arm at arms length. “It feels…”
“Quite strange, at first. You will adjust,” Zecora said. “Now take the form you feel you must. To walk disguised with pony kind, what sort of visage comes to mind?”
Spike thought about it. “I guess… not a dog. A pony, I suppose. So I can have conversations and eat at restaurants and stuff. Let’s see… I think I’d make a rather hansom stallion.”
Spike closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. But when he opened his eyes he was still the same little dragon.
“Uh… It’s not working,” he said.
Zecora tsked. “These borrowed powers have their code. They take their form from what they’re showed.”
“From…” Spike’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh. Of course. I need to copy somepony else.” He looked over at Rarity out of instinct. “So… what? Just… become like—”
There was a flash of green light. Spike looked down at himself and instead of purple and green scales he found a white pony coat.
Rarity yelped in surprise and scurried back from him. “What kind of magic is this!?”
“I—I’m sorry!” Spike said. His voice was still his own. “How do I stop—?”
There was another green flash and suddenly he was a dragon again.
“Ooo. I need to sit down.” Spike staggered over to his stool and flopped face-first onto it. “Okay. I think I get it now.”
Zecora chuckled and went to close up the old chest. “You may keep it, if it aides you. Be careful, thought. The magic fades, too. I know not how long it will endure, so maybe test it to be sure.”
“Thanks,” Spike said, giving a thumbs up without otherwise moving.
“I advise you practice some control,” Zecora said. “And size won’t change, so choose a foal. Remember to act like a horse, and walk on all four legs, of course. You’re voice stays, too. That’s all I know. Good luck to you, and mind how you go.”

Zecora guided the young ones safely to the edge of the forest and made her goodbyes again. Spike had the dog costume tied around his neck now, hanging like a pelt.
“What did I tell you?” Spike said, nudging Rarity in the shoulder.
“Alright,” she conceded. “Zecora’s not actually dangerous or scary. She’s quite nice and helpful and makes delicious tea.”
Spike folded his arms. “Told you so.”
“Well alright. You win. Again.” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Thought she does live in the Everfree Forest and I maintain that that’s at least a little creepy. And honestly, darling, who lives in a tree?”
Spike grumped. “I did.”
“I thought you lived in a castle.”
“Yeah,” Spike said. “But before that I lived in a tree. The Golden Oak Library? Maybe you’ve heard of it.”
Rarity thought on that for a bit. “Can’t say that I have. I did hear plans to build a new library, out near that big oak tree in town. Maybe it just hasn’t happened yet.”
“Oh…” Spike said. “Well… You’ll see. It’ll be the most amazing library ever.”
“As libraries go,” Rarity said, turning to walk back to town. “Now. Which pony do you think we should copy for the disguise?”
“A colt,” Spike said. “Because of the size issue.”
“Well I was going to suggest Big Mac,” Rarity mentioned. “Because then we’d have an excuse to visit Applejack. But I guess that doesn’t really work for your size or voice.”
Spike shrugged. “Who else do you know from school?”
Rarity hmm’d. “Well, there’s this unicorn colt who—”
“Wait,” Spike suddenly realised. “Whoever we choose, he has to be an earth pony.”
“…ohhhh. I see your point.” Rarity rubbed her chin. “I think I have just the colt.”

Rarity knocked twice and the door opened.
“Well hello there little filly,” the pony said, smiling down at her.
Rarity beamed. “Can Caramel come out to play?”
“I don’t see why not,” the adult pony said, turning back inside. “Caramel! You have a visitor!”
The parent vanished and a few moments later a yellow colt with neat brown mane appeared at the door.
“Hello?” he said nervously upon noticing who it was.
“Caramel,” Rarity smiled. “I just came to congratulate you on your cutiemark.”
Caramel just stood there awkwardly. “Umm… thanks. I got it a few weeks ago.”
“Ah. Yes, no. I remember. But… I just wanted to tell you again.”
“There was a party. I don’t think you were there…”
“No, you see, I was… um. I was sick that day,” Rarity said. “But I’m all better now and I wanted to… check on you.”
Caramel shifted awkwardly. “…okay.”
“Um. Could you come outside for a moment?” Rarity said.
“…why?”
“I uh… I wanted to look at you. In the better light.”
Caramel shuffled cautiously out the door. “Okay…”
Rarity nodded sagely at him. “Ah. Three blue horseshoes. Er… that’s so very you, Caramel. It makes perfect sense.”
Caramel sat and folded his forelegs. “Oh yeah? So what does it mean then?”
Rarity scuffed the road with her hoof. “Uhhh… It’s because you’re soo… unique?”
Caramel narrowed his eyes at her. “Really? Because my triplet brother and sister got the same cutiemarks. The three horseshoes represent us and how we work together to overcome problems, and—You know what? Forget it. You would already know all this if you came to our party. Or actually paid any attention to me.”
Rarity gave a nervous laugh. “Caramel… How could I not pay attention to you?”
“Are you just buttering me up so you can get me to cart your art supplies around again?” Caramel said. “Because it won’t work this time. It may have worked the first hundred times, but it won’t work this time. You can find somepony else.”
Caramel stepped back inside and shut the door.
Rarity cringed a little as she made her retreat. She looked left and right and then dived behind a bush.
“Oh dear. Not my finest moment…” she winced.
Spike shrugged where he sat. “He just doesn’t know what an honour it is to carry your art supplies."
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Well? Did you get it?” she whispered.
Spike looked down at his armband. “Let’s find out—” There was another green flash and suddenly he looked exactly like little Caramel, standing there on his two back legs.
“Wow that thing is sensitive,” Rarity said. “But effective. I couldn’t hope to tell you two apart. I’d completely believe you were a pony.”
“You think?” Spike said, getting down on all fours.
Rarity poked him in the chest. “Hmm. Feels a bit… magicky. Maybe don’t give out any hugs. But rest assured—you won’t need these old things anymore.” Rarity tugged at the dog costume still tied around Spike’s neck.
He winced a little. “Sorry. You did work hard on them.”
“Of course I did. I work hard on everything. But I also move on and try new things. That’s the magic of creativity,” Rarity said. “Come on. Let’s go test your new disguise.”

The front door opened. “Mother! Father! I’m hoooome,” Rarity sing-songed. “And I brought my friend Caramel with me to help, uh… carry my art supplies! Won’t you come and meet him?”
Rarity took Spike’s dog costume and shoved it into his arms—or forelegs.
“Mother! Father—”
“Rarity, please,” her father said coming into the entrance hall.
Spike grinned like a guilty puppy.
“Sweetie Belle is almost done with her nap,” Rarity’s father went on, “and I’d like to finish making dinner before she wakes up.”
Rarity pointed. “Don’t you have anything to say to my friend?”
“Hello Rarity’s friend,” the father sighed. “Will you be staying for dinner?”
“Ye—” Rarity started.
“No!” Spike cut in. “Uhh… I uh. I just gotta take this upstairs and then I’m done. So uh… bye!” He ran for the stairs.
Rarity shook her mane from her face and huffed.
“Go wash up then,” the father said.
Rarity went upstairs to her room and found Spike had returned to normal.
“What was that about?” Rarity said. “I’m getting tired of sneaking you food. We could have had a proper sleepover. I get hot chocolate at sleepovers.”
Spike rubbed at the armband. “I don’t know what happened. The tingly feeling stated to fade away, so I rushed up here and then I suddenly change back.”
“Ah…” Rarity said, and started taking off her boots. “It must have run out of power. What was that… about an hour? That’s not very long…”
“I know,” Spike said. “Maybe it’s not a good plan.”
“Maybe I just need to give it more power,” Rarity said. “Make it last longer.”
Downstairs the baby started crying.
“Rarity! Dinner!” the father called. “Has Caramel gone?”
Rarity looked at Spike. “I’ll bring you something, I guess…” Then she left the room. “Yes, Father. Caramel went home.”
Spike sat down and tried to take off the armband. It seemed a bit… stuck. Probably just sweat or something. He managed to wiggle it off soon enough. Then he eyed the thing, inside and out. It was clearly made from the hide of a changeling. Dull black now in its lifeless state, but when Rarity had filled it with magic it had taken on a blue-ish sheen.
Spike’s keen eyes noted the unfamiliar magical script that ran all around the inner surface of the bracelet. It was not a language he knew. Of course he didn’t study magic. But it was like nothing he recognised from any of Twilight’s books. How strange… And how obviously brilliantly clever it was. Spike slipped the artefact back onto his arm where it settled comfortably into place.
Now all they needed was the right excuse and he and Rarity could be off travelling Equestria to find their friends. Then, once the Elements were together…
Spike looked down at the soft hoof-crafted and beautifully decorated basket that the filly Rarity had made from him. They had spent so much time together these past several days, and Spike felt like he had really gotten to know her. It was more time than he’d ever spent alone with the old Rarity, unless you counted hunting for gems. Spike curled his tail up to his chest and hugged it. He was going to miss this version of Rarity. But setting Equestria back to normal was the right thing to do.
Rarity would get her cutiemark as intended and she would grow up to become wildly successful and she would be happy. That was the Rarity Spike was fighting for. And for every other pony in the Equestria he knew… and loved.
His left arm twinged under the armband’s pressure for a moment, but it passed and he ignored it.
“I have to make this right…” Spike said. “It’s the only way.”