Celestia’s sun hovered above the mountain tops, granting the first of its life-giving beams to the early risers of nature, from the lowly earthworm to the hulking buffalo of the Outer Deserts. The birds were chirping happily and there was a small breeze about; it would have been just another beautiful morning in Ponyville, if not for the repeated bangings of hoof on door, mixed with a squeaky whine:
“Twiiilliiiiight!”
Twilight Sparkle put down her books with a sigh and headed to the door. With a telekinetic flip, the top flap opened, revealing Pinkie’s panicking face. Trembling, jittery blue eyes met half-awake violet ones. It was better to have the upper hand with these situations, Twilight knew, so before Pinkie could say another word, she spoke:
“Pinkie, what is it now? I’m a little tied up as it is, sorting through the catalog of Pre-Banishment history books-”
“But that’s the problem! Everyone’s getting tied up, like, literally, from Applebloom to Blossomforth to Fast Track to Golden Hoof to-” Pinkie’s eyes settled on Twilight’s neck briefly, and the tension immediately faded from her expression. “Oh, wait, silly Twilight, you aren’t tied up! You’re perfectly fine! That’s good, and I knew it, or else I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place, because if you were tied up, then you wouldn’t be able to help!”
Twilight barely managed to dodge as a pink blur somersaulted into the library, rolling on the floor with a technique that would have given Daring Do a run for her money. If this had been any other pony, Twilight would have felt shocked, violated even - she had been brought up to respect the sanctity of one’s home, living among Canterlotian nobility - but now, all she could feel was a strange void where indignation, or at least annoyance, should have been. It had simply happened too many times for Twilight to muster up anything; that, and the fact that this was Pinkie Pie, whose occasional bouts of madness had been justified more often than not.
“Come on in,” was all Twilight had to say.
Pinkie bounced up and slammed the door shut. She rushed to the curtains and pulled those shut, too. Finally satisfied that they were safe, Pinkie let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. We’re safe for now.”
“Safe from what?” asked Twilight irritably.
“The monsters!”
“Monsters?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“Monsters!” Before she could protest, Pinkie had slung herself on to her back, wrapping her forelegs around her neck like a snake. “They’re long and loopy, and wrap themselves around ponies’ necks! Everypony I’ve seen outside today was trapped by them! They have all sorts of stripes, like blue and red and green and yellow and black, and they’ve hypnotized their hosts into thinking there’s nothing wrong!”
“Pinkie, I can’t breathe!” After a bit of magic-assisted coaxing, Twilight drew up a chair and sat down to think. “So what you’re saying is that there’s some sort of...”
“Monster.”
“You’re saying there’s some sort of monster, wrapping itself around ponies’ necks.” Pinkie nodded emphatically. “And you’re saying they’ve brainwashed everypony into thinking that they’re not monsters.” Another nod. A flash of inspiration struck, and Twilight could not help but smile. She would have to tread carefully, but it could be done. “What if they’re actually not monsters, Pinkie?”
“What? But of course they are!” came the inevitable protest.
“Yes, yes,” said Twilight, waving a hoof, “but what if they aren’t? What if they’re just some sort of... new accessory? Like scarves. Are you sure those aren’t scarves?”
“Well, yeah, Twilight,” said Pinkie, “because if they were scarves, they wouldn’t be hypnotizing people!”
“Pinkie, are you sure you aren’t just being, well...”
Pinkie’s eyes narrowed, and Twilight was suddenly aware of a prickling feeling on the back of her neck. “Being what? Being what, Twilight?”
Two streams of thought, familiar and explored enough times to be counted as schools in their own right, coursed through Twilight’s mind and collided into a scruffy brawl. The first believed in something the early nobles called Inherent Understanding, which was fancy talk for common sense. It believed in logic and reasoning, and that everypony had these, that no matter what the situation, one could always appeal to good old rational thinking, given one’s skills with speech, as long as one pressed hard enough. The second was about the same, sans including Pinkie Pie in the group of “everypony”.
Twilight could count on multiple hooves the instances when Pinkie’s impulses had proven themselves justified, despite their far-fetchedness. Having to rebuild Ponyville was an experience that did not let itself be forgotten easily, and she herself knew first-hand the sensation of panic without an outlet, not without guilt. Not to mention, Pinkie was one of her best friends after all, and she did seem extremely worried about it. Also, if there was actually, no matter how slim the possibility, a serious invasion of mind-controlling monsters, Twilight had to do something.
That’s an extremely huge if, chided the other half of her brain.
Egad, those eyes. Like gimlets! begged the first, and won.
“Well?”
“Nothing,” sighed Twilight, yanking open the curtains and letting light shine through. After the glare had passed, she considered her friend, who seemed a lot more relieved. “Okay. I’ll help you look into this monster thing.”
“I knew you would,” giggled Pinkie, a completely different pony from before. “That’s why I came to you. I knew I could count on you, Twilight!”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Twilight frowned. “Aren’t you coming with me?”
“I have to go look for a cure for the hypnosis! Take Gummy with you, he’ll tell you what to do!” With a crash and slam, she buzzed out of her sight, leaving behind the baby alligator, whom Twilight swore had not been there before.
She shook her head and could not help but smile. Perhaps it was better to play along. It might even be fun.
“Come along then, Gummy,” said Twilight, picking him up with a cautious magical arm. She did not like the idea of letting him gnaw at her mane; Rarity had made jabs at the effects of such during their spa soaks with the convincing vehemence of a professional. “Let’s see what all the fuss is.”
I would suggest taking a walk around town first, said a pleasant male voice.
“Huh?” She spun around, looking for the speaker, and felt a chill rise up her spine when she realized that she was still alone in the library. “Who said that?”
Gummy, said the voice apologetically. Yes, it’s true. Please do not be alarmed.
“Oh, no, I’m not alarmed, just unconvinced,” she replied, scanning the corners of the room. “Come on, who is it? This isn’t funny.”
The fact that my voice is being transmitted directly into your mind should open it up to the last remaining possibility.
“And that would be?”
The impossible - or what you would think be the impossible. I ee, me, Gummy, being the mystery speaker.
“Okay. Oookay.” She let go of the alligator and backed up slowly. “This is getting a little too weird for my tastes. You, Gummy, whoever you are, you stay here. I am going to take a walk around town because I told Pinkie I would, but that’s that, and when this madness is over, I’m going to get back to my work! Do you hear me?!”
Crystal clear, said the voice, disappointed.
“Good!” Before it - he - could say another word, she swung the door open and stepped outside, breaking into a brisk trot until she reached the town square. It was not until she bumped into the crowd that she finally looked up.
The first thing that struck her was how similar it was to the scene during Trixie’s arrival. A large cart the size of a stage had planted itself in the crossroads. Between Twilight and it were what she guessed was the entire population of Ponyville, huddled together in a chatter-filled mass. Everypony wore “monsters”, just as Pinkie had said: strips of cloth, colored with every hue under the sun and a couple more, tied at the front of the neck, adorned the crowd. They looked familiar, yet from where, Twilight could not put her hoof on. Pinkie had given her a name, but the noise was making it hard to remember. She need not have tried; moments later, somepony took the stage and began shouting the answer through a megaphone.
“We are sorry to announce that we have run out of stock,” blared the pony, a Canterlotian judging by her accent. “We do thank you for your overwhelming support of Matador, and we hope to bring exciting new wares to local stores very soon. Until then, watch the papers and stay tuned for the release times of our latest line of ties.”
There was a roar of cheering as the stage folded up and made its slow journey down the road, drawn by a team of ten goats.
So that’s where I’ve seen them before! thought Twilight. Iron Will’s assistants! They wore those the last time they came, and so did Iron Will himself, come to think of it. Well, that solves the problem.
It made sense. She had never seen one until then, but ties were probably just the newest fad in accessories and clothing. Given Ponyville’s boundless enthusiasm towards trends and new things - she still could not fully accept the fact that Flim and Flam had somehow led the entire town in a song and dance routine - they would have been too occupied to answer any of Pinkie’s frenzied queries, ergo, Pinkie would have jumped to conclusions that only she could reach. It was all a silly misunderstanding, and that meant she could get back to work.
She turned, and would have made her uneventful journey back if her ears had not caught one word:
“Ties.”
Her hearing started to pick out individual lines in the mumblings of the tight throng. She immediately spun around, aghast, as she realized just what the crowd was saying.
“Need... ties. Need more ties. Ties. Need more ties.”
“Uh, hello?” asked Twilight, tugging at the closest pony around her. “Are you OK?”
“Need ties,” replied the pony, as brightly as if he were saying “Good morning”. “Need more ties. Colourful ties.”
“You don’t have a tie, do you?” bleated a goat behind her. She faced him a little quicker than she would have liked. He was only half her height, and had a black tie around his shaggy neck.
“No,” said Twilight carefully. “Why?”
“Ah,” answered the goat, bending down to pick up the hammer at his hooves. “Gotcha.”
Her mind registered the danger one second too late, and was swiftly shut down as the burst of pain, spreading from the left temple, dulled into black unconsciousness.
Princess Celestia had been diligent in her teachings. Aside from history, arithmetic and advanced scientific principles, she had taught Twilight the proper measures to take when in an emergency. The measures had been tweaked as she grew in both size and skill. At first, it had been simply screaming and kicking. She had progressed along the stages of analyzing, and she had practiced many times tapping into the two-way leyline that she shared with the Royal Palace’s offices.
At her current rank as the Element of Magic, her first move was to blast the roof off, followed by any bindings holding her down, and her enemies if she deemed them to be dangerous enough to warrant it.
“I’m afraid not, hun,” crooned the old mare as she regained her focus. “We can’t have you setting off explosions like that, can we? At least, not without the proper preparations. If you know what I mean,” she grinned.
“Wha... who are you?!” yelled Twilight. Her brain went into overdrive, and she took in the scene speedily: her legs, spread and tied to some sort of inclined plane; something heavy, sitting on her horn, blocking her magic like a dam holding back a river; a curved, yellowed wall, bare except for a torch-holder, blazing brightly; a small table with a row of ties laid neatly across the surface; the creepy mare, mane a dirty blonde, an Earth pony with too much makeup on. She was wearing a checkered tie.
“You may call me ‘The Madame’,” said the hag, swishing her tail as she circled Twilight.
“What do you want with me?”
“Oh, many things,” giggled Madame, “and all of them illegal.”
“Stop... stop beating around the bush and get to the point!”
“Oh, why must you rush? There’s no fun if you don’t take it slowly at first. Ease yourself into a comfortable position. Ah, unless you’re the fast type, though I’d imagine it’d be a lot rougher there. Ohohoho.” Her tail brushed along Twilight’s bare stomach. All Twilight could feel was nausea.
“You... you’re a sick pony, you are! Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t. You’re the second-last piece of the puzzle. Princess Celestia’s prized pupil.” The Madame was now face to face with her, and her eyes were a strange violet that twinkled despite the dim lighting. “The Element of Magic, so I hear... and resistant to the ties.”
“The ties?” gasped Twilight.
“Yes, mmm. You see, hun, we’re running a little campaign here. Us and the ties, of course.”
“I demand an explanation for all of this!”
“Wouldn’t you, though?” grinned the Madame. “So like you to rush into things. To... charge. Ohohoho. Pity the ties want you untouched, otherwise we could have had some fun times.” She gestured to the table, and Twilight half-expected the strips to jump into life. “I suppose you deserve to know what’s going on, seeing as you are a key piece, and you will know all of this sooner or later. Think you can control yourself until then, hun?”
“Do I have a choice?” seethed Twilight, yanking at the restraints desperately, with no success.
“That’s the spirit, ducky. Now then... where to start?” Another sickening tickle danced across a hindleg. “The ties, perhaps. Yes, we’ll start with that.
Simply put, they are higher beings. They used to be clunky beasts of lore, until a stray spell from Canterlot morphed one tribe into something more. Their form as you see it now was not their first, and will certainly not be their last. Over the years, they have experimented with shapes and sizes that allowed them varying degrees of access to the world’s hidden energies, and they found this one to be the best for now.
Of course, the obvious problem is that they can’t move on their own. So half of the tribe took on the forms of ponies, and the other half took on the forms of ties. There is something alluring about their shape, how long they are, that silky surface... it did not take long for the snobs of society to notice and claim the idea as their own. That’s where they struck, in the first factories, packed off unwittingly to shops all across high-end Equestria.”
“But that’s ridiculous! You can’t expect me to believe that!”
“When was the last time you saw somepony wear a tie, sweetheart?”
“Iron Will and his assistants.”
“Scouts, taking stock of Ponyville.”
“But... but what about the Doctor? He wears a tie sometimes, doesn’t he?”
“Whooves? Oh, he’s a hired hand, the one who opened the gates for us when we finally came, ohoho, the first one to clap and cheer as I gave our opening speech to introduce ties to your quaint little town,” said the Madame.
Twilight felt her lips go dry. “But none of this makes any sense!”
“Not now, at least. In fact, not even I can make out half of what’s going on!” The Madame frowned and gave her a once-over. “You are strangely immune to the ties’ mind-bending. Perhaps it is because of your element. Perhaps not. The ties are not happy, obviously, and this will no doubt mean you not being happy.”
Hang in there, said the male voice suddenly. Just a few more moments.
What? hissed Twilight inwardly.
Oh, so now you believe me, snorted the voice. But OK. See, I’m actually behind the table, fighting off the ties’ influence. No time to explain; just keep her busy while I figure out how to undo the lock on your magic. When you feel your horn become lighter, run your escape plan.
But I don’t have one! pleaded Twilight.
Twilight Sparkle? Not having a plan? Please.
“What’s going on?” The Madame’s voice snapped Twilight back into focus.
“Just... thirsty,” lied Twilight.
“You naughty mare, you,” came the reply. The Madame clicked her lips and trotted to one side. After a while, she shrugged and said, “I’m going to get you some water. The ties think it will help. Hang tight, dearie.”
“Not much choice there,” replied Twilight weakly.
There was the squeak of rusty hinges behind her, followed by a heavy slam.
Look, whoever you are, thought Twilight quickly, you’d better start-
Done.
She felt the weight lift from her head instantly, and a curious warmth started to spread down from the tip of her horn to the ends of her fetlocks. At the bottom of her peripheral vision, Gummy’s green form waddled into view.
Go for it, it said, and Twilight did just that.
She closed her eyes, gathered her energy and cupped it until she could hold it in no longer. Barely able to aim it away, with a scream, Twilight let loose a beam of destruction that seared the air with a hiss. The roof responded with a crash and the thuds of falling debris. The dust stung her eyes, but it was a stroke of a feather compared to the flood of pure, white light that shone from above. It penetrated her eyelids and burned coruscant patches on to the back of her skull, filling her, swallowing her, engulfing everything in its rush of white...
“Twilight! Twilight, you’re awake! Twilight, please, please, please open your eyes!”
“Pinkie...”
“So you’re awake, hun. Welcome back.”
Twilight shot forward, raising a hoof defensively. “You!”
“Me?” asked Pinkie.
“No, you! Madame whatever!”
“Oh, her,” said Pinkie.
“Yep, me,” replied the Madame, lighting a cigarette.
“What are you doing here? And you, Pinkie! She’s working for the ties! She’s-”
“Not anymore, Twilight. It’s all OK now. Just relax,” smiled Pinkie, pressing down on her shoulders gently but firmly. “She’s not under their control anymore.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve found the cure. And it’s actually really simple, and I’m such a silly-head for not thinking of it sooner!”
“What is it, then?” breathed Twilight, heart pounding.
“You just cut the ties!” exclaimed Pinkie, brandishing a pair of scissors.
“You... what?”
“You could say that by cutting the ties, you cut the ties to the ties,” continued Pinkie. “Or maybe it’d be more fun to say that you can cut the ties to the ties by cutting the ties.”
“What she’s saying, hun,” cut the Madame, “is that cutting them breaks us free.”
“But... how?” stammered Twilight, getting up.
“Do you really need to know?” asked the Madame.
“I...” She looked at Pinkie, and then the Madame. The former was beaming and going on about her previous tries at getting ponies free. The latter was, true enough, tie-less, a pile of shredded bits littering the floor beneath her hooves. They were still in the previous room, if the rubble all around them was any indication.
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t know how Pinkie got here, either,” shrugged the Madame, sucking long and hard at the roll. “I do know what’ll make you feel better, though, does wonders for releasing the... tension,” she added with a lecherous wink. “Fine, just kidding, sheesh.”
Battling the oncoming headache, Twilight said, “Okay. Right. So just to recap, Pinkie’s here. You’re good now. And the only way to defeat these ties is by cutting them.”
“One of the ways,” Pinkie corrected. “Not sure whether there’s any more.”
“It’ll do,” murmured the Madame. “It’ll take forever to do it, but it’ll do.”
“We’d better get started then! Operation Trashing Insidious Extra-sensories, go!” bubbled Pinkie, producing a chest full of assorted blades, knives and scissors.
“What did you call them?” Twilight asked, examining a pair of shears suspiciously. She could not help but wonder where they came from, though it was better not to ask at this point, she knew. Sometimes, it was better to bend rather than snap.
“I didn’t call them that. Gummy did!” replied Pinkie cheerfully.
“Ah. Him. Right.”
“Anyhow, Gummy said that we should start off with the guards, because they’re strong and can help us get more done. Then the pegasi, because they’re fast, and Earth ponies to help carry the weapons as we move on forward, and also unicorns for teleportation, and when we’ve established a small base, we should sneak into Canterlot and get the Princesses! Ooh! And maybe we can stop by and free Doughnut Joe too because I haven’t had his doughnuts in a really long time, and they’re so, so so good...”
It had been, Twilight later reflected, like an long dream. It kept on going despite expectations, past every stage and twist and turn until at last, the last tie had been sliced into tatters, and it was all over. That night, she had went to bed with mixed feelings of triumph, relief and a disbelief that she could not shake off since the first day of the counter-campaign; the next morning, she had woken up to the smell of Spike’s cooking and the warmth of her blankets, as if nothing had changed since that fateful day. The sun was once more Celestia’s, and the lives of the ponies she lived with and loved were theirs once again, free from the bonds of the ties. They had fought tooth and nail, plotting hard and fast attacks. Gummy, or so Pinkie claimed, had been confident of their win all along, on the grounds that centuries of evolution had made the ties too proud to admit the possibility of defeat, and the poorly-defended, unorganized state of every town they had re-taken seemed to support that. Either way, they had won, and Twilight was glad.
There was a knock on the door, followed by a self-assisted entry. There was only one pony who could bypass double-locked doors like that, Twilight knew; she got up immediately to greet her comrade of three months with a hug. Three long months of living on the edge had done something magical to their friendship, and while Pinkie would always be Pinkie, Twilight found this fact a lot easier to not only accept, but appreciate.
“Good morning, Twilight!” chirped Pinkie.
“You’re right about the ‘morning’ part, at least,” grinned Twilight, stifling a yawn.
“Well, yeah! I have to start early because I’ve got a lot of ponies to talk to, and who else to invite first if not you?” She reached into a basket and handed over a pink envelope. “It’s an invitation to my Yay-We’re-Saved-Super-Special-Freedom-Par-tie-Par-tay!”
“Did you just say...”
“Par-tie?” grinned Pinkie.
Twilight could not help but groan. “That’s a low, even for you.”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” admitted Pinkie sheepishly. “Nah, what I wanted to say was that Gummy’s been mentioning something about hats recently.”
“...really?”
“No,” giggled Pinkie, “we’re having the par-tie after all. See you, Twilight!”
“You know,” Spike had said, after Pinkie had taken her leave, “I’ve always wondered about that. I can’t remember any of the battles that you told me about, or the storming of the castle, just going to Canterlot for that delivery, and then waking up back here. And there’s also a whole bunch of questions I have. Like, seriously, how did Pinkie get to wherever it is you were? And what’s with the whole Gummy thing? Not to mention...”
“Well,” said Twilight, raising a hoof, “given the circumstances, what with us trying to save Equestria, I was hoping you could forgive me for not... tying up the loose ends.”
“I hate you, Twi.”
“And I love you too, Spike.” She drew him into a hug, regardless of the protests and squeals, tighter than any previous one, with the warmth that only resolved distance and worry could bring. “I love you too.”