//------------------------------//
// Pt.1 - Chapter 11 
// Story: The Starlight Broadcast 
// by ponyfhtagn 
//------------------------------//

Spike and Rarity had used the extra day in Manehatten to visit some touristy locations and see a few sights. They’d even caught a play put together by somepony named Charity Kindheart—and Spike and recognised little Coco Pommel up on stage, with braided hair and little red slippers on.
“She’s going to be your friend, too,” Spike had whispered to Rarity.
“Then we must come back soon and visit her,” Rarity had said.
But soon the time had come to board the train back to Ponyville. As the sun set so did their spirits. Spike was dwelling on what had happened with Applejack. Rarity could be too, he thought, or perhaps she was just missing Manehatten already. It was difficult to tell.
Back at home the restraints of childhood fell back into place. Spike snuck up to hide in Rarity’s room again, while Rarity had to eat what was fixed for her and then go to bed at the appointed time, in her regular old pyjamas, and not make any noise that would wake the baby.
“I can see why Zecora lives in the forest,” Rarity said while brushing her mane. “I wonder how many gems it would take to buy my own house?”
“I gotta admit. I don’t really know how gems work,” Spike said.
Rarity set down her hairbrush with a sigh. “And tomorrow it’s back to school. How dull. I don’t think we’ll be able to get away like that again any time soon. Well, you could, if…”
Spike stopped fidgeting with the armband and looked up. “Yeah? What?”
Rarity turned slowly to face him. “Well, it’s just that, I know you’ve got a lot more ponies to find. And now you’ve got the armband, you don’t really need me anymore. I could just give you the gems to pay for train tickets and you could just… go make destiny happen without me.”
“What?” Spike said. “That’s crazy. Where’s this coming from?”
Rarity shrugged. “Well I don’t think I’m really cut out for this sort of thing. I didn’t help one bit with Applejack. Really you spent most of the visit making sure I didn’t get too distracted by all the shop windows.”
“Nuh-uh,” Spike said. “We worked as a team to get into the hospital and find AJ’s room. And you bring such an air of authority I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason we got any service at the hotel, the cafés, even getting on the train. I need you, Rarity.” Spike put a claw on her front hoof. “And more importantly I want you there with me. You’re my friend.”
Rarity shrugged again. “Me? Or the other Rarity. The one you knew in the future, who was so successful and established.”
“You,” Spike said. “Rarity, we’ve both got to stop living in the future. A few weeks ago we met each other for the very first time. I understand that now. I know you’re not the same as the Rarity I remember. You’re you. And I think we’ve become pretty good friend, don’t you think?”
Rarity smiled and nodded. “I do.”
“So you’ll come with me to find the others?”
“I won’t be slowing you down?”
Spike shook his head. “We’ve got plenty of time. Trust me.” 

Rarity went to school the next day, so Spike put on his go-to purple and green disguise and went to visit Zecora in the Everfree. After all, he needed to talk to some pony about some confusing new problems he had been thinking over.
“Thanks,” Spike said when he had finished and she handed him the tea. “So what do you think I should do about it?”
“It’s quite a headache, I agree,” Zecora said, taking her own seat. “But what advice do you expect from me?”
Spike was puzzled. “Well I dunno. You always seem to have an answer for things that confuse me.”
“It is not answers I impart. I just direct you to your heart. You make your choice by what is there. I only help you become aware.”
Spike waited. “Ooookay. So what do you see in my heart then?”
Zecora sipped her own tea before answering. “Your heart holds more than it can stand. You’ve grown accustomed to this land. You care for those you’ve met anew. And yet you miss the world you knew. If you succeed in changing time, by recorrecting Starlight’s crime, the world you knew will be set free.” Zecora looked out over the railing of her house. “But all of this… will cease to be.”
“I know. That’s what I’m saying. But what do you think I should do?” Spike asked. “Or what does my heart say, or however you give your advice.”
Zecora narrowed her eyes at his tone. “It seems what you most want to do, is have your cake and eat it too.”
Spike stiffened like a guilty foal. “…is that… doable?”
Zecora directed his attention to a tree branch that was visible from where they sat. In the branch was a large silvery spider’s web.
“If one must be, then one must die,” Zecora said. “The spider or the butterfly. The prettier creature now trapped and doomed, while the hungry spider over looms. Yet who can say which has more right? A choice not stark as day and night. The spider you might find hard to defend, but what if it became your friend?”
“The butterfly is my friend, too,” Spike said. “And—Can we stop this analogy? It’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable, yes, because you know there are but two ways this can go. To let the spider run its course would surely cause you much remorse. Or step in and free the butterfly, but if you do—”
“The spider dies,” Spike finished bitterly.
They sat in heavy silence for several minutes more.
“I’ve seen other futures,” Spike said quietly. “They all went badly. Without the Elements of Harmony there was no good in the world. Evil things took over. Ponies suffered. It was… wrong.”
Zecora studied him for a moment longer. “Ahhh. I see. The problem now is clear to me.”
“It is?” Spike said.
“You do not ask which world to choose, or fear what you would risk to loose. You fear instead you might succeed when all the Elements are freed.”
“Wh-what? That’s crazy,” Spike said. “I want the Elements to win.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow at him. “If this world’s future turns to dust, it’s easy to do what you must. But if this world does overcome the darkness and return the sun, then when Twilight comes to repair it… You do not think that you could bear it.”
Spike set his cup aside and clenched his fists on his knees. “…no.”
“So the true question in your heart…” Zecora said. “Do you try? Or let things fall apart?”
Spike nodded guiltily. “It’s worse, isn’t it? Worse than having to choose between two worlds. I hate myself for even considering it, but… What if I just let things go bad? It wouldn’t hurt so much then. I wouldn’t have to… choose. The choice would be clear.”
Zecora reached out and lifted his chin so she could look at him. “The future is an unknown place. Who knows what troubles you may face? But that is then, and now is here. That is all that’s truly clear. And I know you are kind of heart, and have been from the very start. This world needs heroes. You enlisted. Can you now leave us unassisted?”
Spike blinked and looked away. “No,” he said, wiping at his face. “I can’t. I can’t just walk away when I can help. It’s not right.” He sniffed.
“Then let the future take it’s form,” Zecora smiled. “Enjoy the calm before the storm.” She set her drink aside also and walked up to check on Spike’s armband. “Now tell me, how has this performed? And how long can you stay transformed?”
“We’ve got it up to about five hours now,” Spike said. “It lasts longer if I don’t use it. All the same, I guess I should be getting back soon. But it’s been really useful, so… thanks.”
Zecora poked the thing a few times. “You hesitate. What holds you back? Is there some detail that I lack?”
“Um… well, it sorta… it took the shape of a pony that I remember, but a pony that the band definitely hasn’t seen. Is that… normal?”
Zecora lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I did not make the thing myself. I bartered from somepony else.”
“Oh,” Spike said. “Well. It seems fine. I guess. Kinda itches. And some times I have trouble taking it off.”
Zecora eyed it suspiciously. “Remain aware of its demeanour, and let me know if you find keener problems that you can’t pull through. I’m always pleased to welcome you.”
Spike gave her a friendly touch on the shoulder. “You too. I’ll come back soon.” Spike went to the stairs to leave. “And thanks for the advice.”
“At any time, dear friend of mine,” Zecora nodded.

As Spike left the Everfree that evening he encountered two problems.
One – the armband was running low on power. He was more attune to the pulse of its magic now and he could feel its need for more.
Two – it was at least twenty minutes past curfew.
Spike had completely forgotten that Ponyville curfew was still in place. Everywhere else had, according to reports, lifted their curfew several days ago. It had originally been implemented in response to the post-Event fear climate, to try and make ponies feel safer and to deter any mischievous or criminal behaviour. After all, many places still had broken windows at the time. It made sense to have a curfew and to have guards roaming the streets.
But that had all been lifted already. Except in Ponyville. And, though Spike didn’t like to think about it, he was a little suspicious that it had something to do with Zecora. She had confessed to him earlier in their meeting that, while ponies no longer fled screaming at the sight of her, there was still an air of mistrust from many. 
Spike had only just reached town when he saw the first watchpony, and he was pretty sure the pony had spotted him, too.
“Who goes there?” the stallion asked.
Spike had dived behind a bush but it was no good.
“Come out here at once or I’m blowing this whistle,” the stallion said.
These were not trained guards. Ponyville had no such thing. These were just ordinary citizens who elected to go out at night with lights and whistles and patrol the streets for… whatever they were patrolling for.
“I’m going to count to three…” the stallion warned. “One… Two…”
“It’s okay!” Spike said, stepping out on all fours. “It’s just me. Caramel.”
The watchpony adjusted the light that hung around his neck, getting a good look at Spike in his Caramel-disguise.
“Oh,” the watchpony said, a little disappointed. “Young colt, what are you doing out here? Don’t you know there’s a curfew in place?”
“Sorry. I, uh… fell asleep under a tree and I lost track of time.”
“Well come on. Let’s get you home,” the stallion said.
“Uhhhh, that’s okay. I know the way.”
“Well I’d better walk you there all the same. There are some suspicious characters out around this side of town sometimes.”
Spike huffed. “What? Like Zecora? Is that who you mean?”
“Young colt, I don’t like your tone. Now it’s past your bed time so you’d best march yourself back home before I decide I need to have a talk with your parents.”
Spike gulped. “Ah-hahhh. Right. Home. Let’s go.” He could feel the armband’s magic waning slowly. “We’d better hurry. It sure is late.”
To his credit, the stallion was a reasonably fast walker, and they reached Caramel’s house in just a few minutes. The trouble was that Spike knew the real Caramel was already safely inside.
“So. This is my  house,” Spike said. “I’m gonna… go inside now. So, thanks. You can go back to your, um, patrolling. And stuff.”
The stallion didn’t leave. “I think I’d better have a word with your parents all the same. Let them know you’re back safe.”
Spike managed not to groan out loud. He could feel the armband’s magic slipping away.
“Uh… What’s that!?” Spike pointed with his foreleg.
The stallion turned to look.
Spike picked up a stick in his mouth and threw it hard in the opposite direction where it clattered off down the road.
“No, over there!” Spike said. “I saw a shadow. It went that way.”
“It’s probably that damn zebra,” the stallion grumbled, taking off down the street.
Spike groaned out loud this time. “It wasn’t a Zecora-shaped shadow!” he called after the watchpony. “Ugh. What’s the point?”
Just then the door behind him opened.
Spike turned woodenly around to see who was there.
“What are you doing outside?” said the little filly at the door.
She was coloured exactly like Caramel and even had the same cutiemark.
Ohh… it must be Caramel’s sister. What was her name again?
“Uh…” Spike said. “Toffee. Hi.”
She frowned at him. “What’s wrong with your voice?”
Spike coughed a few times and tried for his best Caramel impression. “Sorry. I think I’m getting a sore throat out here.”
“Well come inside. It sounds like it’s getting worse,” Toffee said. “I’m gonna tell on you for being outside.”
“What?” Spike whispered, coming inside and shutting the door. “Don’t do that.”
Toffee raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s the best you’ve got? Just don’t?”
“Uhhhh…”
Spike quickly looked around for help. He spotted the fridge light in the kitchen where the door was open.
“Don’t tell…” Spike said cautiously. “Or I’ll tell what you were doing in the fridge.”
Toffee rolled her eyes. “Thought you’d lost your touch there for a second. Honestly, it’s no fun being the only smart triplet.”
Spike shrugged guiltily.
Toffee turned back to the kitchen. “Now do you want some tomorrow-cake as well or should I just carry on by myself?”
There was a sudden green flicker and the Caramel image finally fell apart. Spike stood there frozen in the dark. “Uhhh. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
“Whatever,” Toffee said, sticking her head back in the fridge.
Spike scurried up the stairs as quietly as possible and made straight for the nearest window. It opened easily enough and he managed to climb outside onto the roof just moments before Toffee came back up the stairs behind him.
He heard a door open in the hallway.
“Toffee?” the real Caramel said in a sleepy voice. “What are you—Hey, are those cake crumbs on your face? Give me some or I’m telling.”
“What?” Toffee complained. “Make up your mind, doofus.”
“What are you talking about?” Caramel said.
“Oh sure. Be that way,” Toffee said. “Fine, come on. And be quiet. I don’t want to have to share with both of you dumb colts.”
Spike sighed in relief to hear them going back downstairs. Now all he had to do was climb down from the roof and sneak back to Rarity’s house without waking her parents or getting spotted by the town watch.
“Well, if there’s one thing I learned from Twilight…” he repeated to himself.

Rarity sat up to the sound of tapping on her bedroom window.
“Wh-who’s there?” she whispered to the darkness.
“Rarity. Let me in before somepony sees.”
She gave an unladylike snort and climbed out of bed to open the window.
Spike flopped into the room and lay on the floor. “Ow.”
“Where have you been?” Rarity complained.
“Out,” Spike said. “I couldn’t just sit in your room all day. It was boring.”
“I thought you’d left me and gone adventuring,” Rarity whined. “Honestly, Spike, after everything you said to me. How could you?”
Spike got up and dusted himself off. “I didn’t leave you. I was visiting Zecora and I lost track of time and then the armband ran out of magic and—It doesn’t matter. I’m back.”
Rarity shut the window. “You missed dinner.”
“Maybe I should have taken some cake after all,” Spike mused.
“Pardon?”
“Uh—Hey. I thought of another adventure,” Spike said. “If we wait until the weekend we could catch a train down to the Rock Farm and go visit Pinkie Pie.”
“I still don’t know what a Rock Farm is,” Rarity said. “But I’m in.”
“Oh, you’re gonna love Pinkie,” Spike said. “She’s super fun and full of energy and creativity. You two are always talking about the kinds of parties you’d like to throw. Pinkie mostly talks about the food and you mostly talk about the dresses, but you really get together over the decorations.”
Rarity yawned. “Sounds fun. But I need my beauty sleep. Maybe next time you get caught out late you should just stay at Zecora’s house. What if you’d been seen?”
“Sorry,” Spike said again. He climbed into his basket and nestled down. “Night, Rarity.”
“Hmm. Goodnight, Spike,” she said, climbing back into bed.
After a few moments of silence Rarity spoke again.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“…let’s go tomorrow. Let’s just get on a train and make a day of it.”
Spike sat up. “But you have school tomorrow.”
“I know,” Rarity said. “Isn’t it dreadful? Let’s go find Pinkie instead.”
“Won’t you get in trouble for missing class?”
“Not if they have a note from my parents,” Rarity said.
Spike picked up on the implication. “Me? You want me to fake a note?”
“Come on, Spike. You have very nice penponyship. It’s simply gorgeous.”
“Well,” Spike boasted. “When you’ve got Twilight Sparkle asking you to write important letters and documents all the time, you learn to—Hey! Don’t butter me up like that.”
Rarity winced. “Sorry. It’s a habit.”
“Well don’t do it to me,” Spike said. “Now ask again. Nicely.”
Rarity sighed. “Spike, please, will you write me a note to get me out of simply the most boring class tomorrow so that I can go with you to help save Equestria from impending doom?”
Spike folded his arms. “Okay.”
“Yay. See you in the morning.” Rarity curled up and went back to sleep.
“Hmph,” Spike said, laying down again. “And the funny thing is I can’t even tell which one of us is the bad influence anymore,” he muttered to himself.