//------------------------------// // Progression // Story: Corrigenda // by Jay Bear v2 //------------------------------// Cup Cake was at peace among the beehives. Thistle and buckwheat flowers wreathed the burgundy pillow she nestled on, her legs tucked underneath her head. Her apron, laundered until it was pristine, snuggled beside her with an offering of lemon cakes stacked on top. With her closed eyes and smile of a weary pony finally resting, Fluttershy thought Cup Cake almost looked alive. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity stood together near the back of the crowd gathered to make their last goodbyes. Rarity had tried to tuck her necklace under a black scarf, but its golden gleam still caught Fluttershy’s eye. Rainbow rocked subtly as if she was about to be sick, and Fluttershy worried she’d have to escort Rainbow away at any moment. One pink earth pony broke from the crowd and trotted over to the beehives. She seemed both familiar and out of place. As the pony draped black cloth over each beehive, gently knocked on them, and whispered near their top, Fluttershy realized she was the waitress from Sugarcube Corner. Her normally frizzy hair was straight, presumably for the funeral, which explained why Fluttershy hadn’t recognized her at first. Fluttershy couldn’t remember her name, though. Perky? Plucky? Something like that. The waitress finished her whispers to the last beehive and walked up to a podium in front of the crowd. She flipped open a book on the podium and began to read aloud in a monotone. “Today, we come together to tell the bees of the passing of…” The waitress choked mid-sentence. She paused, cleared her throat, and began again. “To tell the bees of…” She stopped and looked up. “Can I tell you guys a story first? It’s really sweet, and really, really short, I promise. Is everyone okay with that?” No one replied. “Okay, so it’s a story Cup Cake told me back when she and Pumpkin and Carrot…anyway, it’s about Pumpkin’s fourth birthday party. Cup Cake had gotten almost everything ready for the best. Birthday party. Ever! She had all the presents wrapped, all the balloons blown up, all the banners hung, and all the party favors bagged. The very last thing she had to do was bake an amazing two-layer cake. So she’s mixed up the batter and she’s splitting it between two pans. Pumpkin toddles in and sees Cup Cake pouring the batter. She’s a smart filly, she knows about baking, so she asks Cup Cake which one is hers. “‘They’re both for you, sweetie,’ Cup Cake says, and then she explains about making a two-layer cake. “Pumpkin is super happy about getting a big cake all to herself, but she’s got one more question. ‘Is Bawndah gettin' one, too?’ “Cup Cake asks who Bawndah is, and Pumpkin announces that she has a new friend that only she can see, and his name is Bawndah, and it just so happens that Bawndah and Pumpkin have the same birthday, so of course Bawndah needs his own two-layer cake too. Cup Cake tries to tell Pumpkin that she and Bawndah can share a cake, but let me ask you: have you ever argued with an almost-four-years-old, almost-birthday-girl? “There’s one thing you need to know about Cup Cake. She took pride in her pastries. If she was going to have to bake two cakes, then both of them were going to be amazing. So out come two more pans and the tools soaking in the sink, and twice as much flour and sugar and eggs and butter start going in. Cup Cake bakes like a crazy mare while Pumpkin watches. “In walks Carrot. He sees Cup Cake busier than she’s ever been before. The batter’s flying, the oven’s firing, the glaze is drying, and he figures the best thing he can do at that very moment is…play with Pumpkin.” A few in the crowd chuckled. “He grabs a picture book from the shelf, and they start reading about some lionesses going on a hunt. They get to the page where the lionesses go off, leaving the lion behind with his cubs. “Pumpkin points at the lioness in front and says, ‘Dat’s mama lion.’ “Guys, Carrot was so proud! ‘My daughter is such a genius!’ he says. ‘She’s never even seen a lion before, but just from one picture, she can already tell the difference between a male and a female.’ “Cup Cake, even while she’s busy baking, is curious. She asks, ‘Sweetie, how do you know that’s a mama lion?’ “And Pumpkin says, ‘She workin'.’” The crowd was silent, for a moment. Then from the middle, a pony snorted, and his outburst spread through the other ponies as waves of chuckles and “aww”s. Fluttershy and Rarity joined in the laughter, and even Rainbow cracked a smile. The waitress relaxed, and some of her mane curls returned. She started again to read from the book at the podium, now with a natural voice. “Today we come together to tell the bees of the passing of their master Cup Cake, born Chiffon Swirl. We tell the bees, and they shall tell the flowering plants, which shall tell the earth that the time has come for it take back her flesh and bones. By these words, I am also here to tell you, Cup Cake’s friends and loved ones. Like the motes of her body return to the ground from which we all are formed, now her stories and memories, in which each one of us play a part, return to us. “The endless sleep of Cup Cake leaves our world more hollow than it was. There is a natural urge to fill that void, to banish her absence, but we must accept that there can never be a replacement for Cup Cake’s life. Only then can we learn the beauty of absence. Our world is hollow like a bell, and its beauty is heard in the knells of the stories and memories we will all share. Cup Cake has not truly left this world as long as her life echoes among ponykind.” The waitress finished her reading to quiet marks of approval: a light stomping here, a nodding head there. She left the pulpit to rejoin the crowd, and her place was taken by an older pony in a ceremonial blue, green, and grey tunic. He read some more from the book and sometimes signaled the crowd to respond. As Fluttershy fell into the earth pony religion’s routine, she searched around for Rainbow Dash. Rainbow watched a bee float along with the wind, oblivious to her surroundings. Apples surrounded Fluttershy in both name and substance. In the dining hall, Apple Bloom, a lithe yellow mare, carried on her back a tray carved from apple tree wood laden with sliced cheese and fruit. Massive windows showed both the apple orchards stretching to the horizon and the frail green frame of Granny Smith tending to the harvest. Bright Mac, bulky yellow stallion, had brought Fluttershy a tankard full of frothy apple cider, on which was carved an icon of the family's namesake. The aroma of smoked apple chips had been wafting in all afternoon, no doubt the result of ruby red Big Mac working the hay smoker. This was Cup Cake’s wake. Mourning had ended, and the sharing of her stories and memories had begun. Rarity mingled throughout the room, engaging ponies one-by-one, while Rainbow Dash had stationed herself at the bar with a group of fellow revelers. Fluttershy wasn’t quite ready for any of that. She instead secured her own space in a booth where she could pony-watch. For a while, the pony she watched was the waitress, who had a throng surrounding her. This group had become like a party within the wake, and as Fluttershy watched, the party swelled until it threatened to take over. “Hey, Ms. Shy, y’all want any more fruit or cheese?” Apple Bloom asked. She had somehow snuck up on Fluttershy with the tray. “Thank you, A. B., but I’m fine,” Fluttershy said. “I don’t suppose you’d like to sit for a bit?” “Don’t mind if I do. My dogs are barkin’!” Apple Bloom scooted into the bench across from Fluttershy. She raised one back leg up and began to massage above the hoof. “How’s it going?” Fluttershy asked. “We haven’t talked in a long time.” “Good. You?” Apple Bloom switched to the other back leg. “I’m well, thank you. How’s Twist doing?” “I don’t really talk to her much anymore.” Apple Bloom let go of the other back leg. “Oh,” Fluttershy said, disappointed. Apple Bloom was already leaving, and they’d hardly had a chance to catch up. “Well, it was good to talk to you.” Apple Bloom caught Fluttershy's look and stopped. “Oh, no, no, I was only a-jutting myself.” “Adjusting,” Fluttershy corrected on impulse. “Adjusting myself.” Apple Bloom leaned forward, and locked a grin on her face. “Yeah, no, I’m still awful tired. I should sit awhile, so I’ve got some time to chat. It’s sure been a long time since we caught up, huh? Did I tell you I met up with Scootaloo again?” “No, you didn’t. How is she?” Fluttershy didn’t remember much of the orange pegasus besides her name. “Great!” Apple Bloom said. “She got me into the Wonderbolts fan club. Last winter, we won four tickets to their last show of the season, but I couldn’t go, even though Pa gave me the day off, because…” Fluttershy felt the long lost joy of gossip return. She relished every detail that spilled out of the young mare about school struggles, new interests, and cute crushes. No witches or strangers burdened Apple Bloom’s life, and as Fluttershy lived it vicariously, they faded from her own. There was an almost taboo intimacy listening to Apple Bloom. Throughout Fluttershy’s career as an au pair for Apple family, they had kept her at a certain distance from the family’s business. It wasn’t always successful—she knew they had built the bar to help overcome some recent crisis, and no one could have hidden Bright Mac’s overindulgences with cider that followed—but Fluttershy still had only the vaguest sense of the family’s other struggles. In this cauldron of secrecy, Apple Bloom had been Fluttershy’s little informant. When Apple Bloom divulged something humorous like Granny Smith writing her name wrong on a birthday card, Fluttershy felt closer to their family. That adoptive relationship, though unrecognized by anyone but her, had helped her share her own struggles with them. Granny Smith had helped her develop assertiveness with pushy shopkeepers, while Bright Mac had helped her overcome some of her social anxiety. However, for small nuisances, trivial peeves, and everyday cases of the blahs, she had gone to Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom responded with unconditional sympathy and affection; at their closest, Fluttershy had thought of herself as a surrogate mother. In hindsight, Fluttershy realized this sense of family had kept her in Ponyville long enough for it to become her home. Fluttershy’s sense of belonging diminished as Apple Bloom grew into a teenager. She shared less and hid more, until Fluttershy’s conversations with her devolved into a repetitive exchange of “How are you?” and “Good. You?” What Fluttershy hadn’t known at the time, what she’d had to piece together much later, was that Bright Mac’s fondness for cider had progressed into an uncontrolled problem. She never learned if Apple Bloom had recognized this over time, or if some incident had pushed her far enough to act. Fluttershy only realized that Apple Bloom was staging an intervention after she asked to borrow Fluttershy’s quarters one day to, she claimed, practice a speech for school. That night, Apple Bloom called a family meeting—excluding Fluttershy—and the next morning Bright Mac declared he was taking a break from running the cider bar. After that, Fluttershy recognized that Apple Bloom no longer needed her, and she resigned a few weeks later. In the years since, she moved into a cottage and welcomed Rainbow when she transfered to Ponyville, but she hadn’t found anything new to commit to. Leaving Sweet Apple Acres should have counted as a success, but to Fluttershy, it had always felt more like a part of her life ending well before the next part was ready to start. “How we doing over here?” Bright Mac said, surprising Fluttershy. He tipped his hat to her. “Ms. Shy and I were just chatting,” Apple Bloom said. “Do you mind I was taking my break?” “You’re fine, sugarcube,” Bright Mac said and tousled her mane, “but I did hear a few ponies over that way ask about a fruit plate. You might want to head on over there before they get too uppity.” “Sure thing.” Apple Bloom hoisted the fruit and cheese plate and left the booth. “See you later, Ms. Shy!” “Bye, Apple Bloom,” Fluttershy said. The two older ponies watched Apple Bloom make her way into the crowd for a moment. When she was out of earshot, Bright Mac turned to Fluttershy. “I don’t mean to interrupt your time here, but Rainbow, well, she went into the fillies’ room ‘round about ten minutes ago and…” “Oh, shoot.” Fluttershy sighed and started to get up. “I did cut her off after two, I swear, but those flygirls kept sneaking her cider.” “I understand.” “And it is the fillies’ room, so either I’d have to get Granny, but she’s got her hooves full right now, or, well…” He didn’t have to say he didn’t want Apple Bloom to have to deal with another pony in Rainbow’s presumed state. “It’s fine,” Fluttershy said as she left the booth. “Thank you very much, Bright Mac. This is a lovely wake.” “Let her know I’m always here to talk,” he said, “if she wants.” She trotted past him, squeezed her way through the crowd, and entered the bathroom. It was modestly sized with three stalls and two sinks. Fragrant wreaths adorned the door of each stall and earthen-hued tiles ran along the floor and walls. The room was vacant except for Fluttershy and, retching in the far stall, Rainbow Dash. “Dat you, Futters?” Rainbow slurred. “Yes, it’s me.” “Shood. Shood.” Fluttershy approached the far stall and saw Rainbow Dash slumped against the wall, one foreleg across the toilet seat. Her eyes were bloodshot and her mane disheveled as she fumbled with the handle. “Dozen fush,” Rainbow said. Fluttershy took a deep breath near the wreath, entered the stall, averted her gaze from the bowl’s contents, and flushed the toilet. “Ooh,” Rainbow said, letting the syllable linger in the air. “Dat’s how.” “We should go.” “Kay.” Rainbow turned to the toilet bowl and vomited. When she was finished, she rose onto wobbly legs and began to leave. “Flush the toilet, please.” “Kay.” Rainbow made a slow turn and pushed the handle down on her second try. “I fushed dit.” “Yes, you did,” Fluttershy said, feeling numb. “Good job.” As Fluttershy escorted Rainbow out of the bathroom, she ran through a mental list of what she needed to accommodate one hungover pegasus at her cottage. There was a lot, but the alternative would be to stick Rainbow on a flying cab and let her fend for herself. That would be cruel, of course. It was cruel to even think about. Fluttershy kept thinking about it until Rarity appeared in front of them. “Oh, poor dear,” Rarity cooed and ran a forehoof through Rainbow’s mane. “She’ll be okay,” Fluttershy said. “I’ll take her back to my house so she can sleep it off.” “What luck!” Rarity said as she hoisted Rainbow over her withers. “I was just about to head home too and asked Big Mac to drive me there in his cart. I’m sure he could take all three of us, and I’ll have plenty of tea ready for Ms. Dash.” “Thank you for the offer but…” “Rainbow, darling, would you like to come back with me and rest up?” “Kay.” “Well, it’s settled. Oh, Big Mac!” Rarity hollered as the stallion appeared outside the entrance towing a wagon. “Could you lend us a hoof?” When they had arrived at Rarity’s home, Big Mac carried Rainbow inside on his back, deposited her on a plush chaise beneath a window facing Rarity’s garden, and left without speaking a word. Rarity went to the kitchen to make tea, leaving Fluttershy to her own devices. Rarity's opulent furnishings reminded Fluttershy of the time her family had toured the Cloudsdale Governor-General's executive mansion. Her brother, Zephyr Breeze, had quipped in a rare moment of insight, “This place is just a pretend home, full of corridors and chambers. Real homes have hallways and rooms!” She felt the urge to find out if Rarity's home had hallways and rooms or corridors and chambers. A part of her worried that as soon as she left, Rainbow would come to, be confused about how she got to Rarity’s, and panic. Another part thought it’d be interesting to see that happen. She decided to take the risk. In a short time, she had found her way to a library. She remembered a study from one of her classes where caregivers read to patients after major traumas, and it appeared to improve recovery. Thinking it might help with Rainbow’s hangover, or at least couldn’t hurt, she entered the library and examined the spines of the books. They were almost all romance novels. She scanned a few shelves laden with titles such as Shetland’s Shelter, Prince of Mountain Pleasure, A Revolution Among the Desiccated Barley, and The Complete Draft Horse Anthology (Including: A Well-Poured Draft, Riding the Up Draft, Drafted Into Service, Feeling a Cold Draft, Demand Draft, and The Final Draft). In the shelf farthest from the entryway, she found a small collection of other books, including a copy of The Adventure Book, a monograph on an archaeological expedition to the Crystal Empire, surveys of earth pony and pegasus history and culture, and two books by President Blue Blood. A groan came from down the corridor. Fluttershy headed for it, but before she reached the exit, she glimpsed the cover of one book on an end table. Her Bed for a Thoroughbred. Fluttershy galloped to Rainbow’s chaise. She saw Kyubey first. The alien was standing on Rainbow’s chest, not creating any depression on her hide, and licking along the bottom of her ribcage. Fluttershy watched him without speaking for a few moments. His appearance unsettled her. Between his sleek hide, his amalgam of animal parts, his magically curative tongue, and the red circle on his back she noticed for the first time, all of his pieces didn’t quite add up. At the same time, nothing about him was quite wrong, and she couldn’t get past the sense that he was somehow familiar. Kyubey stopped licking and turned to her. “Was someone trying to poison her? If so, they chose a very inefficient compound.” To her own surprise, Fluttershy giggled. “No, Rainbow did this to herself. ‘Inefficient’ is good choice of word, though.” Kyubey stared at her, his expression unreadable, and then returned to his work. Fluttershy watched his tongue flick on Rainbow’s coat for a few more minutes, wondering how it worked. “Could I ask where you learned to heal ponies?” she asked. “I was built that way.” Kyubey continued to lick while he answered Fluttershy’s questions, leaving her with the realization that he didn’t need his mouth to speak. “You’re built like a machine?” “Not exactly. The laws of physics are different in my creators’ world than here, so it’s impossible for something to come directly from there. Instead, my creators project me onto your world. This projection process also establishes a conduit through which they can retrieve energy from witches here. Have you seen Rarity using those white spheres with black cages?” “Yes.” How could she forget Rarity's zeal for them? The other night, after the stranger had left them with the news of Cup Cake’s suicide, Rarity had snapped out of her stupor well before Fluttershy and Rainbow. Her first act was not to lament but to hunt for the pearly bauble in the dissipating circus grounds. Fluttershy had expected her to perform the ritual of tapping it her necklace, like she had after destroying the tongue witch, but Rarity hadn't even needed it. She’d secreted the new one away in her dress, pulled out the duller one she’d won from the tongue witch, and freshened her necklace with that. “Those are Grief Seeds,” Kyubey said. “They store all the psychic energy a witch emits. Rarity’s necklace collects the energy in battle, and then returns it to the Grief Seed when they come in contact. When Rarity fills one up, she gives it to me, and I can transmit the energy back to my creators’ world. They use that energy to reverse entropy, extending the life of their world and its inhabitants.” Fluttershy felt ashamed. After the circus witch, she’d judged Rarity to be selfish and callous for putting aside the news about Cup Cake, when in actuality, Rarity had been serving a higher cause. “What’s psychic energy?” Fluttershy asked. “Is that like a levitation spell?” “Not exactly. Psychic energy has more to do with psychological phenomena, especially involuntary processes such as suppressed emotions, memories, and dreams.” At the mention of dreams, Fluttershy narrowed in on the cause of Kyubey’s uncanny familiarity. “Does that mean things with a lot of psychic energy can enter a pony’s dreams?” “Not per se, but a witch could affect a pony’s unconscious perceptions, thereby affecting his or her dreams.” “What about you?” She walked towards him. “Because I think I’ve dreamed about you, even before the training field and Rarity. Even before I left Cloudsdale. You may have been in my dreams for all my life, in fact.” Kyubey turned away from Rainbow and met Fluttershy’s eye, now inches from his. “If you’ve had these dreams in Cloudsdale, then I couldn’t have influenced them. I’ve never been to Cloudsdale.” Fluttershy stammered. “I know I’ve…” “I bear a superficial similarity to several mammals of this world. It’s possible you’ve had frequent dreams of one of them and afterward associated those memories with me. Is there something like a squirrel or rabbit that’s been consistent in your life?” She was about to protest until she remembered Angel, the toy rabbit that had been her lifelong sleeping companion. Her parents had encouraged her to leave him as she grew up, and bullies had mocked her attachment to him, but Angel had been her an unfailing comfort for even longer than the cloud cave where she had used to watch the sun rise. It seemed impossible that he somehow contributed to her terrible dreams, but there was no denying the correlation. “I suppose.” Fluttershy walked away and took a seat on a side chair. She tried to contemplate Angel and her dreams some more, but as her thoughts became discouraging, she turned her attention back to Kyubey. “Did Rarity tell you about what happened with the circus witch?” “Some,” Kyubey said. “Would you like to tell me what you thought?” Fluttershy sighed. “I never thought I'd see something like that. Not again. After that horrible giant and its tongue, I'd had enough of witches. Rarity was so blatant about asking us to join her, and I was sure I’d tell her 'no' once she asked. But Rarity talked Rainbow into it, and Rainbow convinced me. “I was terrified that whole week leading up to it. How could we be going back into a witch’s labyrinth? Then Rainbow showed up. She was so brave, even after we went in. Maybe it was seeing Rainbow so excited, or maybe her courage was infectious. There was a moment when we were on the tightropes racing towards that ringmaster that I remember as clearly as moonlight. If somehow Rarity could have paused time right then and asked me to join her fighting witches, I would have said ‘yes.’” “Then that other unicorn interfered,” Kyubey said. “And afterward, the stranger said…” Fluttershy couldn’t finish the thought. Questions overwhelmed her. Who was the stranger? Where were they from? What was their history with Rarity? Were they telling the truth when they said Rarity would lead them to their doom? What about Kyubey and his world? How could the witches exist in her world if they came from the other world? How could Kyubey grant wishes? Why did all her questions to him turn back on her? Was that what life was like as a witch hunter? What had Kyubey whispered to Rarity on the training field? Was this all a part of how Rarity recruited new hunters? “Uh, hi?” Rainbow’s groggy voice broke Fluttershy’s brooding. Rainbow stared at Kyubey, who was standing on her chest. “Do I know you?” Rainbow said to the alien. “No.” “Rainbow, this is Kyubey,” Fluttershy said. “He’s Rarity’s helper, and he healed you after that first witch trapped you and…he healed you while you were unconscious.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kyubey chirruped. “Great,” Rainbow said. “How about a little personal space?” Kyubey jumped to the floor. No longer encumbered, Rainbow rolled onto her belly while keeping her gaze on Kyubey. There was an ugly silence between the three of them until Rarity entered levitating a silver tray with tea service. She had changed into her purple dress. “Thank you so much for your patience, Fluttershy. I wanted to make sure everything was absolutely perfect.” She stopped in her tracks. “Kyubey, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?” “Normal.” “Wonderful! Rainbow, are you feeling well?” Rainbow grunted, her gaze not leaving Kyubey. “Would you care for anything to drink? I’ve brought some tea.” “Yeah!” Rainbow’s head snapped up as a cup and saucer levitated towards her. When it reached her, she snatched it with her front hooves and gulped down the tea. “Do you feel up to a little walk? I have something to show you both in the craft room.” Rarity beckoned Fluttershy and Rainbow to follow her up a flight of stairs, leaving Kyubey by the chaise. They entered a room illuminated by a bank of large windows along the northern wall and a set of gaslights in each corner. Shelves filled with fabrics, threads, ribbons, and buttons lined one wall. A table bearing a sewing machine and assorted tools held station against another. Next to the table, a propped-open door hinted at an attached walk-in closet. In the center of the room stood two draped mannequins. Rarity set the tray on an end table near the door and pranced, humming, to the mannequins. Rainbow stepped up to the end table and began to pour herself another cup of tea. One glare from Fluttershy stopped her cold, and she returned the teapot before moving aside. Fluttershy sat down on Rainbow’s left. Fluttershy had been dreading this moment since Rarity intercepted them at the bar. She now understood why, when they were in the first witch’s labyrinth, Rarity kept challenging her come up with plans: the hunter had been grooming her as a recruit. The reason she’d invited Rainbow and her to the next hunt was to test them together. It had come so close to success. Surely things were different now, though. After Cup Cake and the stranger, Rarity couldn’t possibly have the gall to recruit them today. Maybe later, when the grief had subsided and their heads were clearer. Fluttershy told herself, assured herself, hoped silently to herself, that for today, Rarity would not dare what she was taking such visible pains to do… “Voila!” Rarity snapped the drapes off of the pair of mannequins, revealing what they wore. The left mannequin bore a gown with row upon row of pink and fuchsia fairy wings stitched to a cream-colored ribbon stretching from neck to tail. On the right mannequin was a hooded dress made from quilted fabric the color of storm clouds. Sturdy pads studded with chrome rivets protected the wing holes. “They’re for you,” Rarity said. “I had to guess at your measurements, so as not to ruin the surprise, but I can make absolutely any adjustment you desire. They may look form fitting, but they each have a dozen hidden pockets, and the fabric is flexible so it won’t restrict your movement. Here, have a feel.” She backed away, giving Fluttershy and Rainbow room to approach. Fluttershy stepped up to the pink and cream dress and ran a hoof along one of the wings attached to the ribbon. It flexed when bent away from the body but was stiff the other way. She could spy a few of the pockets Rarity had mentioned. “Well, what do you think?” Rarity asked. “It’s perfect,” Fluttershy said. It was perfect: the perfect rebuttal to her distrust. All day, she had been looking for the worst in her friends. She had expected Apple Bloom to abandon her at Sweet Apple Acres; she’d seen only an immature foal in Rainbow’s intoxicated body, one who deserved to be taught a lesson; she’d accused Kyubey of controlling her dreams for his own devices; and now, she had prepared for a showdown with Rarity over her witch hunting plans, when all Rarity had planned was an unexpected gift. Fluttershy knew she would need a catharsis soon, something to release her pent-up anxiety, but she was not about to let any other pony bear the brunt of it. She turned to thank Rarity, who had trotted to the window, but Rarity spoke first. “Do you know that Apple Bloom had an older sister?” Rarity said to the window. “Her name was Applejack. She and I met when we were both young mares, about Apple Bloom’s age now, in fact. Applejack was quite industrious and resourceful back then. She had to be, you see. Her parents were tragically lost at sea, feared never to return, thus leaving her, her brother, and Granny Smith to tend to Sweet Apple Acres. It was an unimaginable burden for such a young mare, but she thrived in adversity. Then one day, the inconceivable happened: Bright Mac returned! For darling Applejack, though, it was the beginning of the end. “No pony will ever know the complete truth, but it is my belief that when Bright Mac came back from oblivion and relieved Applejack of her burden, he also stripped her of her purpose. Having lost her way, I have no doubt she succumbed to the influences of a witch here in Ponyville. It is a single tragedy, but hers is not the only life lost to these foul beasts. There must a dozen similar cases across Ponyville, and when you consider the hundreds of towns just like it all across Equestria, the sum is staggering. But if you two would join me…” Rarity turned to Fluttershy and gasped. “My goodness, dear, are you well? You’re as red as a beet.” “I am livid!” Fluttershy said and stamped her hoof. “What in the hay are you thinking, doing this now?” “On the contrary, there is no better time.” “Cup Cake’s cremation was only hours ago—” “Earth ponies bury theirs, actually.” “—and you make up a dead sister for Apple Bloom, who is like a daughter to me—” “I assure you, every word I've said is true.” “—then guilt trip us into joining your winds-blasted—” “Is that how pegasi curse? That’s simply uncalled for.” “—witch-hunting manure!” “Manure!?” Rarity’s nostrils flared. “What right have you to dismiss me? I am a guardian of the defenseless in mind and body!” “You are a bully and a manipulator! Laying this on us when we’re still grieving and drunk—” “Was it so wrong of me to ask for a little responsibility from you?” Rarity snorted. “To draw your eyes from your own front hooves and catch a glimpse of the catastrophe that besieges your community?” “Excuse me, missy, but I have plenty of—” “Hey, what’s this?” Rainbow asked. Fluttershy and Rarity's argument froze and both of them looked to the walk-in closet. Rainbow was inside, holding a bunched-up drape and facing a mannequin. The mannequin wore a velvet cloak in cobalt blue with star-shaped patterns embroidered in silver thread and trimmed with a modest lace pattern. A matching conical hat crowned its head. Rarity rushed into the closet and jerked the drape out of Rainbow’s hooves. “Nothing,” she said as she levitated the cloth over the mannequin. “It’s nothing. Some early work.” “Looks a little like what the stranger wears,” Rainbow said. “What that unicorn goes around in is rotten,” Rarity said. The drape hovered over the mannequin as she tweaked the edges of its cloak. “I mean that literally. You can see where mold has eaten away the fibers. I thought that dingy rag might be the reason he or she is ornery all the time, perhaps if I whipped up something in a little better repair…well, it couldn’t hurt. With the witches, I mean.” The last piece of a puzzle fell into place for Fluttershy. The romance novels, the interest in other pony races, and the desire to form a group were all signs of what plagued Rarity. Her evasiveness about the cloak revealed her denial about it. “Do you ever feel alone, Rarity?” Fluttershy asked. “Of course not.” Rarity kept fidgeting with the cloak. “I’m completely happy. Why wouldn’t I be? I have this entire palace to myself. No pony to quibble if I say it’s time to change the curtains.” “Everypony needs space for themselves,” Fluttershy said, “but I have enjoyed spending time with you.” “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that!” Rarity swooped to Fluttershy and took up her front hooves. “You really do find witch hunting exciting, don’t you? Please, forget I ever said all those nasty things to you.” “I owe you an apology, too. I’m sorry I called you a bully and was dismissive of witch hunting. You’re helping ponies in serious need. It’s clear to me how important it is for you, and you have good reason to be proud of what you do. I promise to respect your choice, even though it’s not something Rainbow or I can join in.” Rarity’s face drooped. “But I thought…” “Being a witch hunter is not something we could ever do. Rainbow, do you agree?” Rainbow hesitated and then said, “Yeah, whatever.” “We can help you in other ways, though,” Fluttershy said. “I’ve been fascinated by psychology since I was young, and it’s about time I did something with it. If I enrolled in a program at the community college here, I could have a counseling license in a few years, and I’d be able to help ponies after they escape a labyrinth or before they get drawn in. Imagine how things might have turned out if one of us had stayed with Cup Cake over the past few days.” Rarity pulled back from Fluttershy and gazed at the floor. “Rainbow is the most devoted pony I know,” Fluttershy continued. “You can count on her to run an errand faster than anypony else, and she can give a pretty awesome pep talk when you need it.” She glanced at Rainbow. “Sure,” Rainbow said, “whatever you want.” “That’s the kind of friends we could be. We haven’t known you for very long, but you’re already very important to us. At the same time, our safety is also very important, and that's why we won't become witch hunters. If you can accept these boundaries, then we can help you, but not in the way you’re asking.” Rarity took her time replying. “Perhaps, in the future, you and Rainbow Dash might change your minds?” “No,” Fluttershy said, “but if you respect our choice, we’ll respect yours and will always be here for you.” For a long moment, Rarity silently worked her jaw. When she stopped, she smiled and embraced Fluttershy. “Of course,” Rarity said. “Anything for my friends.” Fluttershy hugged her back and gestured for Rainbow to join them. When the three of them broke, Rarity’s eyes glistened. “Thank you both,” she said as the teardrops fell down her laugh lines. “I don’t want to rush you, but it’s getting late, and Kyubey and I need to have a talk.” “I understand,” Fluttershy said. “Would you like us to come back tomorrow?” “That’d be lovely. Perhaps for tea?” Rainbow and Fluttershy made their goodbyes, and Rarity walked them down the hallway and to the door before waving them off. However, they weren’t more than a dozen paces down the path when Rarity ran up behind them, calling for them to wait. “I completely forgot! You should try the dresses while you’re here,” she said, ushering them back to her house. “What a dunce I am. I swear, I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached.” Fluttershy had her work cut out for her. As soon as she got home, she pulled out her stationery sets and the dusty psychology textbooks she had collected over the years. The box with her good pen and ink set seemed to have vanished, so she used a pencil to write out an application to the Ponyville community college. Night fell before she finished it and trotted out to her mailbox to send it. The postmare had already left her mail, all bills and advertisements…except for the letter at the bottom of the pile from the Master of Cognition at Star Swirl’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Fluttershy opened it and read the letter inside, not quite understanding it until she saw the name at the bottom. During her search for the cause of her dreams, Fluttershy had written to some of the authors of the books she had read with her questions, and to her surprise, almost all of them had responded. She’d become a regular penpal with one of them, a renowned professor of comparative psychology in Canterlot, until she’d left Cloudsdale. It seemed her former penpal had gotten a promotion in the meantime and somehow tracked her down in Ponyville. Dear Fluttershy, Hope this letter finds you well! I wish we’d kept in touch, but I’m writing today because I have some exciting news. Star Swirl’s is opening a new research and educational program at the Canterlot Zoo, and I was asked to nominate a few ponies for the program's internships. Given your obvious love for psychology, I would like you to be one of my nominees. In this program, you will design and conduct observational studies with supervision from the school’s zoologists and have daily exposure to the animals. This internship is scheduled to last for twelve weeks, and will require a relocation to Canterlot City. Room and board will be provided, as will a stipend. If you have any questions, you can write me back at the address below, or come visit! I’ve written to the Ponyville train station and secured round trip tickets, with flexible dates, for you to come to Canterlot. Just give me a heads up if you can—I’ll have a taxi pick you from the train station here and bring you to Star Swirl’s. It’d be great to hear back from you soon, and it would be really exciting to meet you at last! Yours, Sunset Shimmer, Master of Cognition Fluttershy put the letter back in the stack. It was flattering that she’d left such a good impression on Sunset, even after years of no contact, and she'd be sure to write back soon. She couldn’t accept the internship offer, of course. As exciting as it was to think about, it’d take her away from Ponyville right when she was trying to build her relationship with Rarity. Plus, being surrounded by wild animals…Fluttershy couldn’t imagine it. She returned to the cottage and prepared for bed. Angel was already there, and she reached out to embrace him. As she did, though, she reflected on what Kyubey had said. Angel had been with her as long as she could remember. So had her awful dreams. That was only a coincidence, wasn’t it? She already knew her dreams were the result of bullying when she was young. Then again, that didn’t explain everything about them, or why they continued. There was a certain logic to her dreams following Angel throughout her life. She took a long look at Angel. Its black button eyes looked back at her. The stuffed cotton sack shifted harmlessly in her hooves. A time comes in every pony’s life to put away childish things. Tonight, Fluttershy started by picking up her lifelong friend, and putting away a lifeless toy. The whistling air was all Rainbow needed to stay awake. By all rights she should have flown home. It had been a long and draining day, and every part of her needed rest. Any sane pony in her situation would be tucked in bed by now. She wasn’t going home, though. She was flying back to Sweet Apple Acres to feel its raucous noise, explosive sights, and obviously, cider flowing down her throat. It beat the alternative of feeling useless. Rainbow was fine at fixing cloud machines for the Weather Service, but that was a job, not a calling like Rarity had. She got great marks in the Air Guard Reserve, but twenty million ponies had voted Blue Blood into office when he campaigned to cancel their program. Like a typical politician, he’d flip flopped as soon as he took the oath of office and only slashed their budget. Thunderlane had praised the four winds when that announcement came down, and she’d joined him at the time. Now, a part of her wished the president had let them all find something better do. Something better, like fighting witches. Rainbow hadn’t been sure what to expect when Rarity invited them to go hunt with her, but as they flew through the evil circus and approached the witch’s heart, she finally felt like there was something worth risking her life for. Then that weird unicorn, the one Fluttershy had called “the stranger” when they’d talked after, showed up and told them about Cup Cake. Rainbow knew she was to blame for Cup Cake. She owed the ultimate debt, and she dreamed of repaying it. Literally. Rainbow had the most awesome dreams. With the moon lighting her way, she soared through dungeons, battled hordes of weird creatures, and rescued foals from the hearts of terrible monsters. Every time she narrowly escaped a roof caving in, or a gust of poison air, her victory fueled her drive to get even better at being a hero. In her dreams, she had so many friends, each of them braver and more powerful than the last. Fluttershy was sometimes there, but there were always others. No matter how many of her friends stood by her side, though, every night’s dream ended the same: as her friends fell in battle, she and the scant survivors rose to avenge them against the last, most horrible monster. The night she and Fluttershy had watched the sun set on the training field, she’d seen something from that dream world: a strange white animal darting between the storage sheds. It made her wonder if there was some meaning to her dreams. Those thoughts had been shoved aside by the drama that followed, and when Rarity first told them about the witches, she’d ignored the nagging sense of déjà vu. But the moment she saw Kyubey standing on her chest, she realized he was the creature from her dreams and the training field. In that moment, it all became clear: she had been dreaming of being a witch hunter. It was her destiny. Or it was supposed to be, until Fluttershy shut down the chance of ever joining Rarity. A part of Rainbow wanted to tell Fluttershy to stop speaking for her, but the stronger part of her knew it wasn’t worth starting a fight. Ahead of her was a fork in the road she didn’t recognize. She had flown over this path so many times before that it was second nature, so a path she didn’t remember was unlikely. Then again, she was on the ground now, so maybe that was why she didn't recall this fork. It was so peculiar, though: she had been flying earlier that night and didn’t remember landing. Rainbow sighed. The path to the left looked like the familiar way to Sweet Apple Acres. The path to the right stretched into inky blackness. She settled her rump onto the ground. As she did, she felt the tension seep out of her and into the earth below. To the right, it was dark, the kind of dark that promised rest and whispered lullabies in her mother’s voice. To her right, it was dark. It felt like a lark; this path, though unknown, called her name alone. A ways over the crest was her long-promised rest. To her right, it was dark On this path she’d embark, To find calming peace All her strife would cease In the dark, there was rest, Endless sleep was best.