//------------------------------// // The Everfront // Story: Petalback // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// The sun rose over the hills, scorching the clouds white and then flooding the fields and forests with green. Cutting cleanly across the open country, the gravel path stretched from the outskirts of Ponyville behind to the distant white spires of the cloud city ahead. On another day, Twilight might have stopped to marvel at the inspiration of pastoral poets across the ages. Instead, she groaned. Her eyes were too puffy and burned, her ears rang with the words read from tens of thousands of pages, and her mouth was sticky with too much cake. Ambling along the path, she struggled to keep her neck from sinking. Occasionally, she felt a kick in her haunches and briefly jolted awake. What have I missed? she thought miserably. More ponies had brought tomes and talked to her, but the closest match she’d managed to find so far was a kind of clingy mandrake, and that had as much in common with the plant as a potato had with an orchid. Spike and she had taken cuttings from the leaves and the stems and even the petals, which had required magical laser tools because the things were as metallic as they looked. They’d magnified them, dripped acid on them, placed them in mangled-looking devices with knobs and oscilloscopes, and cast spells over them. She might as well have asked them politely, and at one particularly tired and desperate point had actually done so. On her back, Spike kicked her haunches again. “Don’t go to sleep now, Twilight! Inspiration hit, yet?” “No,” she grumbled to the path. “I don’t know why I took this stupid 'head-clearing' walk in the first place. All I’ve learned is useless trivia that doesn’t match anything reliably enough. The magical readings match those of the Vlyshrap Trap, but the cellular chemistry is closer to mistletoe, it has traces of alum scent, and the alloy in the flower doesn’t have an equivalent outside of the Ferranthidae family, which are all tropical anyway. This doesn’t make a lick of sense, walk or no walk!” She was starting to feel an old panic peeking through the intellectual knots. Hastily, she pushed it back down. It’s not like that. I know what I’m doing. Only it’s not paying off yet. Patience, I need patience. A good walk keeps the blood flowing easily, just like Professor Top Trough used to say. I only have to find a cure this time. I don’t have to figure out what I did first. And at least she’s not lying on her side, groaning… or turning stiff… “Well,” said Spike, filling his voice with too much casualness, “I guess we’ve walked long enough. Time to head back, you think?” No! Time to come up with answers! I’m smarter than this. I know it. “Not yet. Do you hear something?” Even as she spoke, however, she caught the movement and looked up. She didn’t even need Spike’s slight bouncing to let her know. Up among the clouds, where the pegasi pushed weather back and forth or – during lazy days – slept on it, a few figures had clustered together. One of the cumulus platforms floated a few hundred yards above the distant hedgerow, close enough for Twilight to catch coat colours and distinguish wings from bodies. “What’re they doing?” Spike said. He raised a clawed hand and squinted. “Looks like some kind of weather-making practice.” Whistling noises drifted through the still morning air. On the cloud, she could discern a pink barrel with a trumpet poking out of it, and recognized the design. Cloud-blaster generators had been all over the place when she’d visited Cloudsdale. It was like a bubble-blowing device, except you poured buckets of solution into the top, and the resulting blast could shoot a pony like a cannonball. Another whistle echoed across the way. A column of pink and white splodges projected from the trumpet in a steady stream. Barely visible as an outline within, the shadow of a pegasus stretched and her wings were a blur, yet she made no headway against the wind. “Looks like she’s in trouble,” said Spike. “But why aren’t those other pegasi helping her? They’re just huddling around the machine.” “Maybe they’re trying to get something inside it. Hold on. I’ll see what I can do.” Beating her own wings, Princess Twilight shot into the air – gagging slightly when Spike squeezed her neck – and closed in on the cloud-blaster, which swelled until she could distinguish decorative swirls and pastel splodges on the design. The other pegasi turned their heads, all except the one fighting the blast, who didn’t turn around until Twilight could see the rainbow mane peeking out of the pink and white. Gusts caught on Twilight’s wings. Instantly, they punched her backwards. Green and blue whirled around and over her. Spike’s legs wrenched themselves off her, and suddenly he was screaming into her ears. In desperation, Twilight flapped harder, but such was the turbulence that a few joints cracked and she winced at the pressure of incoming sprains and fractures. She closed her eyes, trying to summon some kind of teleportation spell… “Whoa, whoa!” cried another voice. She hit a body, and the punching became a ruffling of her mane and a rubbing along her chin and belly. Spike’s legs kicked her sides until he was mounted on her back once more. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you crazy!?” roared Rainbow Dash, and even though she was immediately behind Twilight, she had to shout over the whistling din. “You’re nowhere near good enough to be going up against one of these!” Someone found the off switch. The ruffling and the rubbing vanished, and the whistling chugged down to silence. When Twilight opened her eyes again, Rainbow’s raised eyebrow hovered a foot away from her. Beyond the cloud-blaster, the flock of pegasi clapped and cheered. “Way to go, Rainbow Dash!” shouted Spike, and Twilight could see his head poking over her right shoulder. “That was one cool save!” “I know,” said Rainbow Dash matter-of-factly, struggling to hide the grin. Behind her, the pegasi settled down. “I mean, I thought you might be in trouble or something, but then you snapped to it so fast, it was like you went from nothing to action all at once.” He added in a carrying whisper, “Reckon you could teach me that?” Rainbow glanced at the scaly, short, and noticeably wing-free spinal region of the young dragon. “Uh… sure, I guess? I might have to change it around a bit? Maybe?” Both ponies flinched when he snorted, but then he simply continued, “Yeah, yeah, I know I’m a slowpoke, but us dragons don’t always need quick reflexes. I could learn, though. It’d be like the time you taught me how to do a full morning workout to get me psyched up for the rest of the day. Boy, was that an education!” “What are you two doing here?” cut in Rainbow, eyeing them up suspiciously. She’s still thinking about yesterday, isn’t she? Twilight hung her head. “I thought you might be… in trouble,” she said, trying to smile and overshooting by several molars and two stretched lips. “And anyway, Spike and I were taking a morning stroll to clear our heads when we happened to stumble upon your… whatever you were doing…” She watched the words die almost immediately under Rainbow's narrowed eyes, Rainbow opened her mouth, but nothing came out for several seconds. “Is that so?” she said at last. “You know you’re not supposed to interfere with this kind of stuff, right?” “Look, I didn’t want to pester you, or anything like that. I was wondering… I thought you needed help…” A bark of a laugh knocked those words out of the air. “Help? Me? What makes you think that?” “Sorry,” said Twilight. “Look, you don’t just jump in like that!” Rainbow pointed at the machine. “Every pegasus knows you don’t try and mess with a flyer when she’s taking an exercise of that skill level. You could’ve hurt yourself against that blaster!” Twilight’s brain hit a brick wall. Wait, so she’s not still thinking about yesterday? “But –” she began. “But what were you doing with the cloud-blaster anyway?” said Spike, who in some respects could be quick off the mark. “I thought those things stayed in the weather factory.” Finally, Rainbow’s face brightened up; light gleamed in her relaxed eyes, and a glint caught her teeth when she next spoke. “What, Old Baron here? She’s been retired for years. They threw her out because the clouds weren’t forming properly anymore. But she still has enough juice to give a good push, so we use her for a Take-Aback.” Smirking, she added, “Full speed matches a low hurricane cycle, and ha! I wasn’t even trying!” Twilight tried the sentence again in her head, but could only vaguely guess at the meaning. Too often, Rainbow assumed that a pair of wings meant a pony was an expert on the finer points of pegasus living, which to Twilight’s mind was about as fair as assuming a chicken knew the aeronautical powers of a swallow, albatross, and peregrine falcon combined. “You mean you were deliberately flying against it?” said Spike. “Duh. How else do you build up the needed wing muscle and eddy sense? The counter-current drags against your pinions, catches the surface area, and pushes you exactly where you don’t want to go. That’s why it’s called ‘taken aback’.” “Eddy sense?” said Spike. “Super important sense, that. Only thing worse than a straight gust is a gust that curls back on itself. That’s the eddy. If you don’t notice the eddy before it hits, you can get sucked in and you’re wiped out like that.” Cracking her tail like a whip, she continued cheerfully, “Of course, when you’re as good as me, you can roll with the eddies for a quick recovery, but it’s a lot better to learn to see one coming and try to flatten out if you can beat it to the punch, or dodge it if you can’t.” Twilight decided not to chip in with her own theories of aerodynamics. Her professors at the magic academy had always stressed experience over armchair reasoning, and she was clearly dealing with a champion on that front. Besides, she had the gnawing sensation that Rainbow was talking to her more than to Spike. Subtle teasing, perhaps? “That’s why ol’ Twilight here wiped out,” said Rainbow. “Soon as she got into range, her own wings curved the blast back in on itself, and the eddies threw her around like a rag doll.” Oh. Not so subtle, then. “Be fair, Rainbow,” she said, fighting against the indignant leap of her voice’s pitch. “I… haven’t mastered the advanced techniques yet.” Rainbow grinned at her. “Don’t feel bad, Twilight. Not every flyer can reach the peak of Mount Dash, after all. Of course, in your case, Foothill Fluttershy’s enough of a challenge.” Determined to look at something other than Rainbow’s infuriating grin, Twilight instead watched the pegasi fuss about the machine. Some kicked various parts until they chugged, others wiped gobs of pink from inside, and one poured more solution from bucket to opening at the top. Spike sniggered, and then cut himself off and sniffed something sticky back up his nose. A pang of worry dripped through her consciousness. Whatever’s gotten into him, it isn’t going down anytime soon… “Ow.” Rainbow grunted and rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. “Excuse me… Darn rash… Ah! Just after I got over all those bruises from training too.” “So why bother with something like that?” Spike said, pointing to the machine. “Don’t pegasi control the wind anyway?” Lowering her hooves again, Rainbow shrugged. “Mostly. But I’m not talking about the tame stuff we whip up to get the clouds packing.” “What else is there?” Twilight asked, and noticed her friend was gazing beyond her to something on the eastern horizon. “Wild wind,” said Rainbow. Twilight swivelled slowly on the spot, following the thin thread of hatred from Rainbow’s sudden glare to the darkening horizon. Beyond the shiny meadows and blotches of trees like squidgy broccoli, the spiny outlines of Everfree canopy loomed. Where the sunlight stopped and the gangrenous spikes began, Everfree Forest had infested the landscape. During a calm summer’s day, the occasional shriek of a primordial swamp beast carried cleanly over the silence. Foul decaying scents wafted so thickly from its treetops that the sizzling haze and sickly green smoke were almost visible. Spasms ran down their bodies just looking at it. “That’s why we watch the Everfront,” Rainbow murmured. The voice was so close to her that Twilight almost threw Spike over out of sheer shock. “Rainbow, don’t do that!” “What? Can’t handle a little spookiness? I wanna make it clear that you do not mess with the Everfront. Ever.” “What's this Everfront you keep talking about?” said Spike. “The Everfree Front. That's what we call it when it gets like this.” Thunder rumbled over the lands. The fields should have shimmered with the waves; Twilight felt her own bones and teeth twanging as the noise rolled over them. Behind the pair, pegasi raised their voices in a spirited attempt to talk over each other. Spike nudged Twilight in the back of the head, and when she looked round, she found the flock of the winged ponies almost face-to-face with each other. “What’s up with them?” she said. Rainbow Dash sighed and wiped her face with a hoof. “It’s the whole Everfront thing. They’re arguing over it.” She flapped back and added bitterly, “That’s all they ever do.” Needing no excuse to edge away from the forest and its darkening clouds, Twilight followed her towards the cloud-blaster. As they approached, words drifted over the distance. “Look, it’s clearly your shift in a few hours –” “I checked the schedule three times. My name was nowhere –” “I’m not going out when it’s like that. Supposing I got struck by lighting –” “DON’T WANNA GO! WON’T GO!” “Guys, guys!” Rainbow hovered before them, spreading silence among the ranks. “Quit it! Sooner or later, you’re going on that front. Everyone who can fly is going on that front, because if they didn’t then no one would. I did my share, you'll do yours. It’s fair. Deal with it.” Twilight felt her eyebrows jump to her fringe. They can’t be that scared, can they? They have mastery over weather. Half of them auditioned for the Wonderbolts! Rainbow had introduced her to most of them at various times, and surprisingly for the pegasus she’d thrown in a few words of praise, though unsurprisingly she followed them up with something like “but obviously, only one of us has done a Sonic Rainboom”. There was Thunderlane, who would’ve been the greatest Cloudsdale flyer of his generation if Rainbow hadn’t beaten him to it. There was Cloudchaser, a stamina fiend and the only pegasus known to keep flying even in her sleep. She recognized White Lightning, who treated thunder and lightning as though they were squeaks and sparks. And no one could miss Bulk Biceps; he could only be described as a tank with wings. Flying in formation, they could’ve wiped out a cumulonimbus the size of a county. All of them, however, were eyeing up the forest’s booming clouds. They shuddered at the thunder, blinking at the lightning. “What if –” began Derpy. “No ifs!” shouted Rainbow Dash. “But –” began Flitter. “No buts! Look guys, we’ve got a serious job to do, and we’re the only ones who can do it. Everyone does their share. And everyone in Ponyville is counting on us. Don’t let ‘em down now, OK?” None of the faces were smiling, but even the tightest grimaces softened, especially among the – Twilight didn’t want to use the description, but nothing else came to her – more competent weather ponies. Such was Rainbow’s stiff-backed, half-braced manner that Twilight raised a hoof before she realized who she was supposed to be. To her surprise, several of the less competent weather ponies stiffened and braced themselves. No matter how often she explained that she was still the same pony, or that she didn’t want ponies bowing or kowtowing to her, a few seemed incapable of seeing anything but Princess. “You watch the Everfree for stray weather?” she said, trying not to sound imperious. Rainbow swung round as though she’d been ambushed. “What!? You seriously don’t know?” On the other hoof, there is such a thing as getting too little respect. “No, Rainbow Dash,” she found herself saying hotly, “because as I’ve pointed out before, I’m not a pegasus!” “All right, all right, I was only saying.” She ignored a couple of giggles from behind. “Yeah. Our weather only goes where we want it to. But the Everfree weather? Now that goes where it wants to.” Another rumble ripped through the sky, making them all look across to the black stain spreading across the eastern skies. Spike clutched Twilight so tightly, pushing his feet and hands so deeply into her, that she felt his claws digging into her neck and haunches, ready to puncture the skin. “Can’t you stop it now?” he said, his voice slightly higher than usual. “Believe me, we’ve tried it before it forms loads of times,” said Thunderlane behind the three of them. “You just get wiped out. That’s if you’re lucky and don’t get sucked into the Everfree Forest forever.” Twilight shivered at the thought. Old stories flitted through her mind: of ponies wandering through the Everfree but never coming out. Stray off the beaten path or get thrown into the depths, they said, and the forest did things to you. First, you’d see the mist come creeping in to surround you. Then there’d be the howls of the hidden creatures. Soon, it’d start sneaking in through the twitchy ears and the straining irises. Your mind was the last thing you’d lose. Not for the first time, she really, really wished Rainbow Dash didn’t enjoy ghost stories so much. Even now, Rainbow was giving her a sidelong smirk. “No pony goes in,” she murmured, “and ever, ever comes back out.” “Quit it, Rainbow. You’re scaring Spike.” “I know. I can see how much you’re trembling.” “No, she’s not,” said Spike in an uncharacteristic warble. That cut off Twilight’s curt reply. Then, his grip relaxed, and he continued, “Wait a minute. If this is such a big deal, how come we’ve never seen any weather come over that way? You’re just trying to scare us, aren’t you?” Rainbow’s smirk became a frown. “I’m not kidding around. It really is that dangerous.” “Tell her about the last time!” piped up Cloudchaser from behind. The other pegasi joined in the chorus, and when Twilight checked them for any sign of smirks or winks, she saw nothing but steady gazes and the occasional bout of hoof-biting. On her back, Spike sniffed loud enough to prick her eardrums, making her wince. “Still holding up OK, Spike?” she whispered. He quickly stopped sniffing. “I’m fine, Twilight. I’m not a baby. Well, yeah I am, but I can take care of myself. This is just… er… a part of the allergic reaction, that’s all. I must have allergies to that plant thing. Or it could be hay fever.” “Very funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Funny? I was laughing?” “Ow! Gosh darn it!” Rainbow grunted and rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. “Stupid rash…” “What’s wrong?” said Spike. “I got a rash from tackling F – nothing,” she snapped. “Cuts and bruises, that’s all. That’s what happens when you’re a pegasus on the job. It’s nothing.” Angered at being ignored, the thunder roared across their faces, scattering stray locks and forcing eyelids to brace themselves against it. All talk vanished under the tidal wave of clamour. Satisfied, the rumble eased back down to a sinister hum that echoed in their ears while they relaxed limbs and opened eyes. “So…” said Twilight in the silence, “what… exactly… did happen last time?” The pegasi exchanged glances amongst themselves, but a few seconds later all heads turned to Rainbow Dash. “It was years ago,” she said, glaring at the flock before continuing, “like way, way back. You’d have been just a filly at the time, I guess. That’s how far back it was.” A filly. Twilight winced while Spike adjusted his seat and propped his elbows on her scalp. I think I remember. There was thunder coming all the way north to Canterlot. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Mom said it was just a really big storm. I don't remember much of anything else. “Wait a second,” murmured Spike over her. “I think I remember that. Wasn’t there some kind of whirlwind? Everyone at the magic school kept talking about it, you said, because you didn’t like how they kept talking in class when the Professor guy was teaching about… er, something to do with moons, I think.” Twilight gasped. Sure, he’s got a good memory, but… “You remember that much detail?” “Duh. I can remember what colour my egg was.” She could hear the smirk in his voice when he added, “And how do you think I’ve been keeping up with you all these years?” “I know, but to this level of detail? You have an eidetic memory?” After a pause, she added, “That’s a photographic memory. Some ponies don’t even believe it exists. Or maybe it’s hyperthymesia? Er, I mean, really good autobiographical memory, obviously –” “I dunno. Look, I just remember stuff really well. I don’t know how it works. Maybe it’s because I’m a dragon, or I picked it up from you somehow. You’ve got a good memory too.” “Anyway,” cut in Rainbow Dash, and the two of them grinned apologetically at her. “I was just a filly at the time. It was after Fluttershy moved out of Cloudsdale and went to Ponyville. Of course, Ponyville was a bit different back then.” “Different?” said Twilight. “As in boring.” “Oh.” Twilight barely listened. How is this helping? Sure, I can guess now what Rainbow Dash must have been doing when Zecora and Fluttershy met the plant, but is the weather connected somehow? Were those clouds there yesterday? For once, she cursed her lack of attention, but a lot had been going on. Spike could remember so much. It wasn’t the surprise squeezing inside her chest. He must have remembered everything she did… So much cloud had compacted and compressed itself on the horizon that the whole began to resemble a gigantic grey cliff, waiting to crash down onto the shadowed trees. She shuddered to think of the shockwave, ripping up branches and boulders as it went, ploughing across the fields and turning their world dark – “I don’t know much about it myself,” said Rainbow Dash. “It doesn’t happen very often. But that year, it was turning all thundery like this. Some of the older ponies kept going on about storms, but we just thought it was like some dumping ground for waste weather. And then, it went all dark. Just like this. It was cold and rumbling. Just like this.” “Rainbow…” said Twilight warningly. “That was when… pause for suspense… the Desolation struck!” Twilight could hear the capital letter before Rainbow tensed, wings splayed, limbs wide as though exploding. As if on cue, low rumbles ran over them. The sky was guffawing at the flock, most of whom were huddling closer together until one multi-winged, multi-headed creature was the result. Rainbow ignored them, but a slight smirk flickered across her lips. “D-D-D-Desolation?” said Spike. “Yup.” Rainbow relaxed into a steady hovering flap again. “The storm of the Everfree. Only the best pegasi can even hope to control it, and it’s never been tamed by less than a whole squadron. This one was a whopper. Wide as a country and vicious as a battlefield. Everyone in Cloudsdale went crazy over it.” Despite herself, Twilight asked, “What did they do?” She regretted it at once when Rainbow rubbed her hooves with glee. “Whatever they could. Try to blow it out, flap it out, trap it with a line of storm clouds of their own. But it was a close one. The town used to stretch much further that way…” Twilight and Spike followed her sweeping gesture. From the edge of Ponyville and past the Everfree frontier to a jagged ridge, there was little but forest and fields. Squinting, they could make out the thatched hump of Fluttershy’s cottage, tucked next to a redwood and surrounded by rounded foliage like green safety buffers. “…until Desolation came.” Rainbow sighed, ever the showmare. “Oh, the horror! By the time the weather ponies had worn it down to nothing, Desolation had already smashed a load of streets. Oh, the ponies got out OK. We warned ‘em ahead of time. But nothing was left except one or two of the cottages.” Twilight could now make out the stream running through Fluttershy’s gardens and under her bridge. “Lucky,” she murmured. “Yeah, weather can be weird like that.” Rainbow shrugged. “And that’s pretty much it. That’s why Cloudsdale always makes sure there’s at least one pegasus who –” “Tell ‘em what you did, Rainbow Dash!” cried out Derpy. A dam had burst; one by one, the pegasi joined in the mumbling and nodding and crying out for more of the story. To Twilight’s surprise, Rainbow’s gaze suddenly darkened, and a pegasus who elsewhere would’ve been champing at the bit now gritted her teeth and growled. “Not this again,” she groaned. “I was there!” Thunderlane said to the nodding heads. “As soon as the storm hit, Rainbow Dash jumped right in. She tried to make a Rainboom. Didn’t work, of course, but you should’ve seen her! Going back and forth, driving the cloud into the Everfree forest! She was amazing!” “YEAH!” cheered Bulk Biceps. Rainbow rounded on them, and the squad fell silent faster than kids after the teacher’s slammed the door. Thunderlane drew back, suddenly realizing he was the centre of the wrong kind of attention. “No!” she snapped. “It wasn’t amazing. It was dumb and it was stupid! I could’ve wiped out, or knocked one of the others out of the sky. Then the storm would’ve –” “But you didn’t, did you?” Thunderlane folded his forelimbs smugly. Nods met his words. Rainbow groaned in the face of all the admiring smiles. A suspicion crept into Twilight’s head. Watching the pegasi chatter amongst themselves, she drifted over to Rainbow and leaned in closer. “Was Fluttershy living around there at the time?” she said softly. “Uh… yeah, but so what? Lots of ponies lived there. It was still stupid.” “Ha. That’s funny. I’d have thought you’d have boasted about something like that. You must have been quite brave when you were a filly…” And at least you tried to help Fluttershy. At least you had your heart in the right place. What was I doing back then? I didn’t even take care of Spike properly. He was crying all the time at that age. Rainbow’s glare put even the next round of thunder to shame. “That was then. This is now. Look, is this important? You’re supposed to be curing Fluttershy, aren’t you? And I need to be ready in case that storm comes over. If we’re lucky, it’ll swing round and miss us, but I’m not relying on luck today.” “All right, all right!” Twilight said, raising her forelimbs protectively. “I’m on my way now! Leaving you to be ready in case that storm comes over!” Yet as she went, she was slightly ashamed of herself when she threw a sneaky peek back. She saw Rainbow Dash, with her back turned to them, lower her head, though whether through shame or sadness she couldn’t tell. “Wow,” said Spike. He sniffed and wiped his nose against the back of a clawed hand. “That was rude. What’s her deal?” “She’s just taking this thing seriously,” said Twilight. “Did you bring any quills or paper, Spike? No? Could you remember all that detail we’ve just talked about?” Spike tapped his skull. “You bet. And you know what I think?” Finally, he hopped off her back and she landed all four hooves onto the cool, green grass. It didn’t matter that she was a Princess for pegasi and earth ponies and unicorns all together in harmony; nothing felt better than the weight of firm, safe ground underneath her. “I think,” Spike continued, “Fluttershy and Zecora got caught up in something weather-y. I know it was stormy when we got into the forest.” “Oh Spike, that’s not even a strong correlation. We can’t make too much of it when it could just be a simple coincidence. Besides, Rainbow never mentioned anything about the plant.” Spike shook his head fervently. “Maybe, but maybe not! You gotta admit it’s a bit, you know, spooky.” They both watched the pegasi clustering around the platform. Pink and white shot out of the machine again. They could discern Rainbow letting one of the others have a turn before they lost her amid the flock. “Reckon we should get back?” he said. Twilight nodded. “I shouldn’t have let us get so distracted. Now we’ve wasted so much time! Come on, let’s go to Fluttershy’s again.” “Aye aye, captain!” Yet despite her own cautionary words and the stern cane of common sense hovering over her, Twilight couldn’t help thinking of storms, and strange white soil, and plants. She'd left a pile of books – all of which had been skimmed through – lying scattered about Fluttershy’s carpet and table. Then, she thought of hours and hours of testing and measuring with a kit that was becoming increasingly useless. “I think it might be worth talking to Zecora,” said Spike. “Maybe she’s good with strange plants.” Twilight opened her mouth to argue, but something rose up and closed it. What else had they got to lose? She could go and see her friend. Maybe Zecora had found out something in the meantime. Besides, she might be able to furnish more clues. “Maybe, but not yet,” she said. “I'm sure there's a clue in those cinders we got from the scene, and maybe the sharks mean something too. Just let me try a few more things.” Old memories prodded her in the head. But I owe it to Spike. After all he’s done for me, after all these years, he still does what he can. Have I really changed that much if I’m still talking him down? I thought I was better, but did I ever ask him? I just assumed. How long have I been like this? “You OK, Twilight?” said Spike. "You know you're chewing your mane, right?” Immediately, she spat the offending locks out of her mouth. “I'm fine. I'm fine. Just thinking. That's all. Nothing to worry about.” Before they vanished down the slope of the hill, she turned back to watch the lone pegasus going nowhere against an unstoppable wind.