Darting around Ponyville at night reminded Twilight of when the ration riots broke out.
The night it all went down, Twilight was in Ponyville taking a weekend off--her first weekend off in three years. She dropped her favorite mug when she saw Canterlot in flames from the domed window of her observatory. It twinkled in the distance like a star falling through the atmosphere.
She tried getting messages through to the princesses, then Applejack, but got no reply. For all she knew the griffons had just firebombed the capital. For all she knew the same could happen to Ponyville. Before she could formulate a plan she had flung herself from the confines of the castle into the streets of Ponyville, searching the skies for griffon war parties, charging shield spells, throwing combat charms left and right. She remembered the glow in the distance playing off the buildings. Fire and moonlight made the background sparkle.
A riot is first and foremost a bureaucratic issue. When the investigation finally kicked off three days later, Twilight Sparkle found herself filling water glasses and passing papers. Given that Applejack was the director of the Ministry of Harvest, and the Ministry of Harvest may have been responsible for the insufficient management of crops that led to the shortages that led to the riots, and Twilight happened to be a good friend with Applejack, and it would be a lot to ask the citizens to trust their government before they had even put all the fires out--given all that, Twilight had been asked to recuse herself and help with the administrative side of the investigation.
That meant passing papers and filling water glasses. Luna and Celestia, the two chief presiders, never touched their glasses in three weeks of public investigation. Cadence, the impartial third party, drank a little. The Crystal Empire hadn’t entered the war yet. She smiled a lot more then, even during the investigations. She was happy to be there.
Five ponies died in the riots. The princesses found no evidence of corruption. Applejack stepped down anyway. Twilight bought more combat charms and started stashing them around her place. A few in the closet, a couple in the entryway. One on top of the coat rack, painted brown to make it blend in. A bag taped to the underside of her nightstand, just in case.
There were no flames this time. No moonlight, either. Twilight felt the earth beneath her as she ran. Still as stone, trapped in rock, superheated until it crystallized. Her eyes were prismatic stones, catching the faint light from the street and tearing it into the rainbow. Her mouth hung open in concentration.
Twilight ran until she couldn’t hear the alarms, though the ringing from the gunshots persisted. She peered over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of a figure in the alley behind her. She eased up a little and let her hooves clap against the cobblestone.
“Caramel,” Twilight said. She jogged to his side and eyed his heaving silhouette. “Caramel.”
“It’s Sunrise, dangit,” he panted.
A noise from the mouth of the alley drove them to motion again. Saddlebags filled with gems rattled against their ribs. When they exhausted themselves again, they stopped to catch their breath.
“He couldn’t have followed us,” Twilight said. “I don’t think he can run at all.”
“Yeah? I didn’t think you’d try to godsdamn vaporize me.”
“I’m sorry, okay? You scared me. Why’d you try and grab me?”
“I was trying to reassure--” he leaned against an alley wall and slid to the ground, clutching one hoof. “I was trying to reassure you.”
“Your hoof is bleeding,” she panted. “Why’d you go and smash those display cases?”
“I didn’t know--” Caramel tried to clutch his aching ribs, but his saddlebags kept getting in the way. “I didn’t know he’d have a shotgun.”
“He’s an earth pony, isn’t he? How in Celestia’s name--how does an earth pony use one of those things?”
“He was shooting through the floor--there’s no way he would have hit us anyway.”
Her horn flashed. “Give me your hoof and hold still.”
Caramel looked into the coltish mare’s eyes. They looked wounded somehow, strange and spackled with moonlight like sulfa powder. He reached towards her face and wondered if his hoof would go right through it.
Twilight grabbed it before he could touch her. Her horn flashed again, and blisters of purple fire erupted from the cuts. Little pieces of glass removed themselves from the wound and evaporated. Caramel writhed.
“Don’t scream,” Twilight said, “I’m not sure if we were followed. That first flash was a magical x-ray. You didn’t break anything, but your ribs are bruised. You’ll be sterile for the rest of the month, by the way. Sorry about that.”
“What?” he said between gritted teeth. Fire worked its way up his arm, leaving hairless marks on his leg where the cuts had been.
“Look, it’s an emergency spell. I was worried you were going into shock. I couldn’t teleport you if you were in shock.”
Caramel was already on his hooves again, shaking away the last traces of fire from his arm. He squinted as the last of the cuts sealed up and flared out, exposing fresh pink scar tissue. A siren sounded in the distance, headed their way.
Caramel put his hoof over his old scar. “No need,” he said. “Let’s go.”
He glanced down and realized they looked the same.