//------------------------------// // Chapter 23 // Story: Borrowed Time // by Gambit Prawn //------------------------------// Colliding with the sturdy crystal filly, I was sent flying, landing hard on my back. Basking in pain on the tile floor for a short moment, I turned right-side-up and pushed myself up to my hooves again. Ready to do damage control, I scrutinized Pink Diamond’s expression. She had a dopey look on her face and I could actually see stars spinning around her head. At her hooves was a blue hall-pass that was otherwise identical to mine. I pondered what modifications I would need to make to my raised as a colt story and what I could get away with. Pink Diamond giggled. “Sorry about that, River. Actually, I had hoped to run into you, but not like this.” “I—I can explain. Mrs. Fizzle—she…” I stopped abruptly. Pink Diamond’s blue hall pass torpedoed my obvious excuse of having the wrong pass. I blushed. “Well, I’m in the fillies’ room because—“ The pink filly laughed. “Oh, is this part of the game where Annuity and the others pretend you’re a colt?” I froze and blinked awkwardly for a few seconds. “I mean, even a tomcolt would have to use the fillies’ room.” “Tomcolt?” I echoed, stung by the implication. “Yeah, I was pretty sure you were a filly when I first saw you ‘cause you have shiny hooves and such a pretty mane and tail. Then everypony kept calling you ‘he’ and I got a little confused. But then I figured out it was one of those inside jokes!” “That’s not—“ “Oh, I get it now!” Pink Diamond announced. “By calling you ‘princess,’ Annuity’s trying to tell you in the midst of teasing you that you’re too pretty to be a tomcolt. I was originally going to apologize for laughing at you, but now I realize Annuity’s actually being kind of nice.” I paused. Should I even try to argue this with her? Retracing what she had said, it occurred to me that there may be no denying it. I laughed awkwardly. “You got me. I’m a filly. I mean, would I even be able to get into the fillies’ bathroom if I was a colt?” “That’s what I was saying!” Diamond said. Okay, so I didn’t misunderstand her. The bathroom read my magical signature. Still, my secret was hanging by a thread; it would only take one careless acknowledgement by her to shatter the illusion for everypony. “Yes, Diamond, it is an inside-joke,” I began. “I can’t tell you how it started, but now everypony is playing along. There’s a silly sort of game that goes along with it, too: if you say anything that implies I’m a filly or refer to me as she or her, you lose. It’s a sort of a competition to see who can pretend the longest. Even Mrs. Fizzle plays along.” “That sounds neat!” Appreciating her gullibility, I wondered how far I could take it. “In fact,” I said, proud of my own cleverness, “I bet that’s one of Annuity’s tests to see if you can be her friend. She wants to see if you’re smart enough to figure it out! “Really?” I nodded hastily. “Yes, but don’t tell her I said that. It’s probably supposed to be a secret test.” “Ohh! That makes sense! Thanks, River!” “You’re welcome,” I said somewhat guiltily. “Also, don’t tell Fizzle that you talked to me in the bathroom. We’re not supposed to use our hall passes to chat.” Pink Diamond looked shocked. “But that’s what we fillies do! Why else would we go to the bathroom in pairs if not to exchange gossip?” “Careful, Diamond,” I cautioned. “If you said ‘we fillies’ around Annuity, you would have already failed your test.” The filly covered her mouth. “Please don’t tell her!” I smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Oh, the irony. “Well, I don’t want to get in trouble, so I’ll be heading back now,” I said. “Thanks, River, you’re a very nice colt.” “Now you’re getting it” I said, encouraging her. Still I had my reservations as I trotted back to class. Would this measure be enough to safeguard my secret? I suppose I could have told her the truth, but although dishonest, I preferred my way. I didn’t know if the filly would have been able to keep the truth bottled up, and besides, this way she would have motivation to prevent accidental slip-ups. I smiled. Perhaps, running into her in the bathroom was a lucky break. I retook my seat and for the remaining five minutes, I listened to Windy Skies and Silver Lining deliver the play’s exposition. Much of it was what I already knew about the conflict: The griffins had been on their heels for a while, ever since the minotaurs had been convinced to withdraw from the conflict. Other races had more of a token role in the conflict. The dragons provided some resources to the griffin coalition, and the deer had done the same for the ponies. Meanwhile, the elusive treant race had almost no role in the conflict, but nonetheless they had found an excuse to make it to the negotiation table. However, some of it hit dangerously close to home. The griffin citizens expressed concerns about being assimilated by the princesses and Equestria, losing their traditional cultural ethos to the pony ways of friendship and harmony. The female griffin wondered if she would even be allowed to serve her family meat once the negotiations were over. And her companion vowed to take his chicks out hunting for what may be the last time. The mood was clear. It felt like the end of the world to the griffins. Is this the despair Diane knew? Is this the reality my comrade-in-arms refused to surrender to? I looked to the griffin on my left. Despite having already read the play, Beakington was visibly moved by the scene. It had been two-thousand years, but I had to wonder if his race had ever recovered. Were they yet to shake the stigma of defeat? Now that I knew the ponies better, I understood that this distant conflict had probably been long ago forgiven. Still, merely living in a pony world must constantly reopen old wounds. Steadying myself, I understood a new, bitter dimension to my siblings’ new lives “Mrs. Fizzle?” Thaumaturgical asked. “Yes, Lord Torch?” Fizzle replied coyly. “Why are the griffins so afraid, anyway?” I rolled my eyes. “Good question, Spectacle. That’s actually very important to understand what’s going on…” For the rest of the class, Mrs. Fizzle tried to explain that the princesses’ impressive domestic approval among ponies didn’t translate into trust among other races—that the princesses could look like authoritarians from the outside looking in. She was able to convey some of the symbolic importance of meat to griffins, but her explanation rang somewhat hollow. When the bell rang, I went over to my cubby and packed the copy of the play into my saddlebags. I hadn’t needed any of my books today, but I decided I would take them home with me to complete some homework. Truthfully, I wanted to strap them on and walk off, but I had an obligation to carry out. Keeping my distance, I followed Pink Diamond and Annuity’s group to the small hill on the playground. I stayed out of earshot, but I could nonetheless see Annuity’s bad intentions from a mile away. Still, I needed more than suspicion in order to report back to Star, so I slowly tiphooved my way into the circle. “Diamond, I think Trusty wanted to see you after school.” I said, winking conspicuously at the crystal filly. “What are you talking about, River? He said he wanted me to make friends after school and that’s what I’m doing.” I couldn’t be entirely sure she had picked up on what I was trying to do, but either way, the result was the same. “You should join us, River!” Pink Diamond prompted. Annuity and I shook our heads at the same time. The unicorn filly spoke first: “Even if we wanted him to participate, it’s fillies only.” Diamond looked like she was going to blow my secret then and there, but understanding dawned on her and she giggled at the implication. “All right, I’ll see you back at the castle,” I said, trotting away. I wasn’t going to stand around and wait for Annuity to tell me to scram in a more direct manner. Star would just have to understand. “Hey, River!” Thaumaturgical called out. “What’s up, Spectacle?” I replied, stopping next to the chrome drinking fountains. “Beakington and I were going to look for some bugs. Do you want to come? It’s grasshopper mating season, so they’re all over the place! I’ve already found five different kinds!” “No thanks,” I said curtly before sprinkling on some tact. “It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with you, but that’s not really my thing.” I hated bugs. With few natural predators, transplanted insects bred out of control on Rhod. “Well, we can do something else,” Thaumaturgical conceded a little too quickly. “I just wanted you to get to know Beakington a little better. He’s really cool!” Heh. Maybe my farming analogy wasn’t complete nonsense after all. I’d be a hypocrite if I turned down the opportunity to meet my friend’s friend. I smirked. Then again, I am feeling hypocritical today… “So, want to get something to eat together?” the unicorn asked me. I put a hoof to my chin. It was a more appealing idea than bugs certainly, but I had a compelling excuse that applied no matter how much I wanted to go. “I don’t have any money,” I confessed. “Really? How do you get by then?” “Well, the princess supplies my meals, so I don’t really need money.” Thaumaturgical raised an eyebrow. “What about toys and games?” I had to stop myself from scoffing. “I have enough to do back at the palace.” To be sure, this was a lie. “Well, I can pay for you,” Spectacle offered. I shook my head deliberately. “No, it’s not the way of Rh—policeponies to be indebted to anyone. Debt is a spiked chain that ensnares the hearts of even the virtuous.” “Oh, well we can always play tag,” Spectacle tried. “I’ve had enough of that for today. Besides, could we even get enough players after factoring out Annuity’s group?” “Well, I guess not…” “Sorry,” I muttered weakly before turning to go inside. I wasn’t in a completely misanthropic mood, but none of his suggestions were appealing. “Hey, River!” Star called out. Slightly startled, I picked out the pegasus pony just before she could sneak up on me. As my shadow, I wondered if she should really be showing herself. Alighting, she walked over to Spectacle. “Hello, you must be Thaumaturgical Spectacle. My name is Star Chart, and I’m the guard assigned to watch over River Glade.” “Hello Star,” Spectacle replied. “I think I may have seen you once or twice around the JRG.” The mare approached me in the doorway. “Here, River,” she said, hoofing me a small pouch. “Your parents sent over your allowance. I was going to give it to you after you finished your homework, but I happened to overhear, and you sound like you could use it now.” I scowled. I had wanted to go eat with Spectacle, but Star intervening made it feel like she was pushing me to be social. “Star, what are you doing?” I whispered, weighing the bag by hoof. “How many bits is this anyway?” “To answer the second question first, it’s exactly fifty bits. They’re from the princess to you.” “But… why? Hasn’t she done enough for me already? Why do I need her money?” Star smiled. “Remember when I promised I’d do something about you not having any autonomy?” “Yes?” “Well this is one of my ideas: a small stipend for you to do anything you want with. I figured it would let you make your own choices instead of relying on us to pay your way. Best of all, you can start acquiring your own possessions. So what do you think?” I gave her a flat look. “You called it an allowance at first…” I whispered. “That was just for cover…” “But that’s what it is, isn’t it?” Star’s ears drooped. “I know it might seem that way, but it’s not like we’re going to make you do chores for it. In a way, it’s compensating you for putting up with school. Let you feel less like a foal…” I sighed, unconvinced. “Well you heard what I said, right? I don’t want to be indebted to the princess…” “Ali—River, you’ve given up a lot to become an Equestrian citizen. It’s a small gesture, but please accept it. The princess still feels bad about bringing you here.” I shook my head. “She saved my life. Nothing I can do can repay that.” Star sighed. “But, River, hasn’t your decision to stay paid it back many times over?” “What do you mean?” I asked, raising my voice slightly. She lowered her volume further. “Even if you do not become a princess you will still have a lot of influence as an alicorn. And you’ve pledged to serve Celestia with that power, right?” “Well, I suppose,” I said hesitantly. “It’s only fair…” Honestly I hadn’t thought through the full implication of that pledge. Considering my future immortality, though, it was actually quite the hefty promise. Comprehending this, I accepted the pouch, muttering, “Fine…” Spectacle waited until we were finished to approach us. “What was that about?” “Just a misunderstanding,” Star claimed. “I needed to tell River the conditions of the allowance that his parents sent over.” “But you just said—“ “Stipend,” Star quickly corrected. “River likes to call it a living stipend.” “It’s okay, River,” Thaumaturgical said. “I still get an allowance too, so it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” “Thanks,” I grunted. “Anyhoo, you two have fun mingling now,” Star said cheerfully before flying off. I blushed. “Mingling!?” I gasped, flailing my limbs. “Yeah, I mean we’re both colts, so it’s not like there’s anything more to it, right?” I laughed awkwardly. Either Star had just tricked me into going on a date with a colt, or she had chosen her words poorly. In this case, I chose to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Well, I guess we can go now. Let me get my bag.” “Okay! I’ll go get B3.” I was only able to take two steps inside before being interrupted again. “Hey, River!” Stardust greeted. “Are you ready to start plotting against Annuity? I have the perfect spot picked out for our first meeting. “ Realizing this would likely entail more lessons with my friendship disciples, I was grateful to have an excuse. “Sorry, girls, I’m hanging out with Spectacle and Beakington today. Maybe tomorrow.” “Oh,” Style said, looking disappointed. “You guys have fun, then.” “It’s nothing much,” I said, shrugging. “We’re just getting a bite to eat,” “Ohh can we come?” Stardust asked, excited. Why didn’t I just shut up? “Yeah!” Style agreed. “They can join the Anti-Annuity Alliance as well!” “I don’t know about—“ “We’ll ask them!” Stardust said, galloping off with her friend. I sighed. What did I do to deserve so many new friends? Am I turning into a popular girl already? I thought. At this point, having tempted fate, I fully expected to be interrupted again. But surprisingly, I made it to my cubby without incident. “Hey, River,” Mrs. Fizzle called out. I should have known. “Yes?” I asked, trying not to let my annoyance surface. “I just didn’t want you to feel discouraged today. Your song was by no means bad.” “Really?” I asked, extremely skeptical. “Like I said, you could have put more effort into the lyrics—I assume Squirt wrote those—but what I wanted to convey to you is that your heart wasn’t in it. Again, some of that was Squirt’s reluctance, but you sang like you were afraid of something.” I smirked. I’d like to see her try and convincingly sing as the other gender. She clapped her hooves together. “Anyway, part of that was my fault. I’ll give you a different partner next time.” “There’s nothing wrong with Squirt,” I insisted. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Fizzle said defensively. “I just thought it would be good to give you some variety. Have you interact with a pony that’s a bit more… perky.” I turned my back on her. “Yeah, well, I think Squirt’s normal; you all are the weird ones.” Thankfully, she didn’t react to my unusual comment. I appreciated that Squirt was somewhat disruptive, but this wasn’t enough to warrant her unfair treatment of him. At the school gates, I caught up with the griffin and three ponies. “We’ll let you give the sales pitch once we get there, River,” Style said as I approached. “What sales pitch?” Spectacle asked, adjusting his glasses. “You’ll see!” Style said with a smile. “So where are we going?” “The old soda shop,” the colt explained. “You probably already know the way.” “I don’t actually,” Style said. “All right, I’ll take the lead,” Spectacle offered, starting to canter down the street. Style followed him with Stardust behind her. For a moment Beakington turned around and stared at me with a nervous expression. “Umm… River?” “Hmm?” “Oh, nothing…” Beakington quickly said, taking wing to catch up to the unicorns running ahead. Fortunately, they weren’t going too fast, and I was able to catch up fairly quickly. Our destination was about four blocks away. About halfway there, the architecture of the city shifted: uniform white cottages dotted the streets, and the local businesses seemed to be mostly made of wood or brick. Naturally, our stop turned out to be the only outlandish building there. “The Soda Shoppe” appeared to be contained in a giant wooden barrel. The inside matched the outside with its aged wood decor. The perimeter was lined with high tables with three-legged chairs topped with red cushions, but the main attraction was clearly the central bar. It was arranged in a strange rectangular shape with rounded corners to allow small groups to sit closer together. At first I thought we had arrived at a different sort of establishment, but that impression faded when the bartender welcomed the underage Equestrians with a smile. I tried to jump onto the high stool, but I only managed to knock it down while landing on my bum. Embarrassed, I relented and used a small stepping stool that was there for foals. Being foal-sized really stunk at times. “Welcome to The Soda Shoppe!” the cream-colored bartender greeted. “What can I get for you today?” “Greetings,” Spectacle said. “Naturally, I’d like the all-you-can-drink special. Let’s start with… hmm…. root beer.” He put two bits on the counter. “Me too!” Style said. “Cherry lemonade please.” “I’ll have the Black Cherry,” Beakington said. “For all the refills too. Nothing else can compare.” Stardust picked up a menu and flipped through it. Pretty soon her eyes lit up. “You have maple syrup cola!? That’s my favorite!” “Coming right up,” the stallion said. He turned to me. And for you, “Uhh… sir, is it?” I put my two bits down. “Surprise me.” The stallion bowed and started manning the taps. The fillies regarded me with sympathy. “I really need to get my colors back…” Style ran a hoof through my mane. “I understand, but I’ll be sad to see them go. For a dye potion, Pestle really achieved natural-looking colors.” “So, River, why don’t you tell our new recruits what they’re in for?” Stardust prompted. Beakington cocked his head. “New recruits? Did we not invite you?” “Well, it just started today, but if you’re willing to help us, we could sure use you…” “Well, what is it, River?” Spectacle asked. The bartender returned and set our five drinks down. I smelled mine suspiciously; it had a strong odor of cinnamon. “It’s about Pink Diamond—well, not just for her sake, but that’s how it started anyway. What it comes down to is that we’re tired of Annuity bullying other ponies. We want to draw the line at Pink Diamond and stop Annuity from hurting her.” Beakington took a sip and his beak curled into a broad smile. “But how do you propose to do that? Annuity trots all over us, but we’ve never been able to stop her in the past. What makes you think this time will be any different?” He had a point. I turned to the fillies for support. Stardust tagged in: “The idea occurred to me when Annuity voted for River to be Princess Celestia. She was able to control the classroom because her group of friends all voted with her. But Annuity is usually pretty mean, so most of the classroom doesn’t like her. It may seem like she has a majority of the class on her side, but in reality, she only has a plurality.” “What does that matter?” Beakington asked. “It’s not like we have classroom votes often.” “I was making an analogy,” Stardust explained, sipping her cola. “She outnumbers any individual clique of ponies, so she can bully or ‘outvote’ them. But if we made a bigger group of friends, she would find it harder. If you think that’s a little abstract think of how Annuity can cheat in gauntlet tag. If we had more ponies playing than her, we could outcheat her, right?” Spectacle looked at her quizzically. “So you want to cheat at gauntlet tag?” Stardust blushed, nervously running a hoof through her two-toned blue mane. “Okay, that was a bad example. What I was trying to say is—“ she darted her cerise eyes between Style and me, looking for help. I finally took a sip of my soda and I was greeted by a burning cinnamon taste complementing a basic orange flavor. It was better than it sounded, but I still nearly coughed as it tickled my throat on the way down. “It’s an alliance,” I explained, composing myself. “The Anti-Annuity Alliance to be specific. We haven’t nailed down many of the specifics of what we’ll do—other than sleepovers for the fillies—but there’s strength in numbers.” “Yeah,” Style added. “We just want to be friends. Annuity or no Annuity, everypony can always use more friends! As founding members, you can help us come up with our platform. We can make The Soda Shoppe our headquarters!” “Sounds good to me,” Thaumaturgical said, finishing his soda. “I’ll have Plum Spring next.” “Coming right up,” the bartender said, swooping in. “Maybe it’s because I’m not a pony, but I don’t see much of the point,” Beakington said. “I mean, we can nominally be friends and that’s fine, but if we don’t have anything in common the friendship won’t last. Being friends united against Annuity could work, but if that’s the foundation of our friendship, we need to keep it in the foreground.” “You have a point…” Stardust admitted. “I suppose we could start small. Like, maybe we could stand up for the Citrus siblings when she calls them ‘half-foals.’ That would also be a way for us to grow our numbers.” “What about Pink Diamond?” I asked, taking a big sip of my drink. “Shouldn’t that be our first priority?” Style shook her head. “No, that will be a bit more challenging. You know what she and Annuity were doing, right?” “Some fillies’ game?” I offered. Style nodded. “It’s called Open Hearts. If you’ve heard of Truth or Dare, it’s basically that but without the dares. The object is to build trust by sharing secrets. The most important rule is that whenever a secret is shared, the pony that asked the question opens herself to an even more personal question. The idea is you shouldn’t ask anything you wouldn’t be willing to answer yourself.” She then frowned, tearing up in memory. “Of course, when Annuity plays, she always has the deck stacked with her filly friends, so she never has to answer anything tough. I—I learned that the hard way.” Stardust rubbed her friend’s back before chiming in. “It’s one of Annuity’s favorite tricks. She’ll ‘accidentally’ reveal the most embarrassing tidbits to the class, but she’ll never get in trouble for her slip of tongue. I don’t know if we’ll be able to do anything before she hurts Diamond, but we do have a little time to figure it out.” Beakington called for another soda. “I’m in,” he said. “Annuity is no friend of mine; I’ve never liked how she treats everywing.” “Me too,” the dorky colt said. “I’ll have to see if Pestle wants to join. She’d be the perfect fit.” I finished off my soda. It was all right, but judging by my classmates’ satisfaction, I was missing out on the better flavors. So I decided to copy Beakington’s order. Stardust rose her hoof and put three bits on the counter. “I’d like to order the garden salad. Extra tomatoes please.” That sounded good, so I also plopped down three bits. “So let’s take stock of the situation,” Stardust began methodically. “The enemy is Annuity, only foal of Graceful Charity and Generous Endowment. Her group includes the earth ponies Granite Hammer, Gilded Acres and Daybreak; the unicorns Pish, Posh and Bubble Bauble; and she is known to associate with one Zephyr Zap.” I munched on my salad as I listened to her go on. In the end, she had come to the same conclusion as I had: to conquer the playground Zephyr Zap must be the fulcrum of any plan. I took a drink of the black cherry soda and mentally thanked Beakington for the endorsement. “I already tried talking to Zap,” I explained. “She thinks she can be friends with everypony.” Style nodded. “I overheard some of that. I’m curious what you think as a student of friendship.” “It’s an untenable philosophy. That much is obvious.” “Is that what Princess Celestia said?” Stardust asked. I paused a second to wonder. “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask her,” I said, actually intrigued by the prospect. The salad was average, all things told. Perhaps I had become spoiled by palace food, but it just didn’t hold a candle to just about everything else I had had in Equestria. The tomatoes weren’t fresh, and there wasn’t enough dark lettuce. Part of me was surprised that I had become such a discerning foodie in my short time here. “So what’s the endgame objective of the Anti-Annuity Alliance, anyway?” Thaumaturgical asked, sipping his third different soda. “Take it, River,” “Is it to show Pink Diamond that Annuity is not a good friend?” I offered. “No!” Stardust said emphatically. “Isn’t it obvious? We want Annuity to get some comeuppance—get her in trouble with the teacher.” I shrugged. “And I’m supposed to be the leader? The fillies laughed it off. Having cleared the agenda, our little get-together, slowly petered out. When Thaumaturgical whipped out his trivia, it was pretty clear it was over. Style and Stardust quickly made an excuse to leave together, and thanked us for the invitation. I expected the dynamic to change now that it was all supposedly all males, but Spectacle didn’t even seem to notice. Beakington seemed to actually enjoy his tirade of facts, but I guess that’s why they were friends. Finishing my fourth soda—a tropical grape mixture—I excused myself to use the restroom again. For some reason, Beakington’s predator’s gaze followed my every step as I walked into the thankfully unwarded colts’ room. I briefly gave the urinals a longing glance before sequestering myself in a stall. It then occurred to me that I would have to start rationing my trips to the bathroom. I would only have so many excuses if colts started noticing I always went to a stall. Washing my hooves, I acknowledged how grateful I was to have realized this dilemma in a timely manner. It’s a good thing that colts don’t go to the bathroom in herds. I joked to myself Then, opening the door, I was bulldozed by an acute sense of déjà vu as Beakington III accosted me outside the colts’ room. “River, we need to talk,” the green griffin said curtly. “Hmm?” I replied thoughtfully. I had nothing to hide. It wasn’t like I was cornered like I had been earlier with Pink Diamond. “I’m normally not one to pry, but if we’re going to be friends, I can’t keep pretending that I haven’t noticed.” “What are you talking about?” I asked, breaking out in a sweat. He stared me in the eye. “River, I know you’re a filly.” I blinked in disbelief. “How did you…” “I’ve known since last week. Now I’m sure there’s a good reason, so I won’t be so boorish as to ask you why you’re pretending to the contrary; however, anything you’re willing to share with me would help me help you.” I sighed, deciding to go with the same story I had given Bulwark. “All right, you got me: I’m actually a filly,” I said, dropping the colt voice. “As my parents’ second daughter I was raised as a colt for family reasons, and—“ “River, don’t lie to me,” he interrupted. I did a double-take. “I’m trying to help you. If you don’t want to explain that’s fine, but please don’t lie to me if we are going to be friends.” “How? What do you—“ Beakington held up a talon and scratched his head. “I suppose that’s not entirely fair of me to say right off the bat. Let me tell you what I know. You see, we griffins traditionally have relied on mating songs to find our partners. As such, we tend to have very sensitive ears. Last week, your voice started developing some of the higher frequencies that only fillies’ voices have. Colts’ voices change as they get older, but never to get higher. So it’s clear that something out of the ordinary is going on here.” I froze, hooves tapping on the wood floor. My heart was racing. Taking a deep breath, I finally looked up at the griffin again. “Follow me,” I whispered. He shadowed me on the way out, and the shopkeeper called out, “Come again!” in complete defiance of the mood. I would have liked to say that I always had a plan, beyond stalling, in inviting him outside, but I managed to justify it after the fact. As soon as we emerged from the giant barrel, I raised my left forehoof and waved it four times. Star dropped out of the sky like a bat and landed behind Beakington. “Uhh, Beakington…” “Hi, you must be Beakington the Third; I’ve heard all about you!” Her unexpected voice literally ruffled the griffins feathers, and he had to shake like a dog to get them back in place. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “This is Star Chart. She’s acting as my guardian for the duration of the exchange program. She tends to do that.” “So what’s up, River?” Star said, clearly all-business. “He knows, Star,” I said simply. The mare’s wings twitched in surprise, clashing with her otherwise perfect poise. “What do I do?” Star looked like she was considering something for a moment and turned to my companion. “Beakington, what we are about to tell you is an Equestrian state secret.” The griffin opened his beak, but no sound came out. “You want to be an ambassador like your mother, yes?” The child nodded. “Then you understand how important it is for an ambassador to keep such information confidential?” “I do.” “All right, River, you can take it from here.” I tensed. “Really? There’s nothing I’m not allowed to share?” “I trust your judgment,” Star said with a smile. I sighed and turned to Beakington. “I won’t be able to tell you everything, but I suppose I can offer you some sort of explanation.” “That’s all I ask,” he said, disappointment subtly creeping through. Here goes… “My village is quite unique by pony standards. I…we—our magical signatures don’t always match the bodies we’re born with. This means that some of us change sex during or after foalhood. Others of us change tribe.” I parted my mane, causing Beakington to do a double-take. “I didn’t even have a horn until a couple of months ago. I’m still getting used to it.” The griffin’s beak twisted into a puzzled expression, but it returned to neutral as he seemed to sort through some inconsistencies. “I see. I did know certain species of clownfish and some deer can change genders. I don’t consider myself ignorant of Equestrian ways, but I can’t say I’ve heard it’s possible among ponies.” “That’s because the princesses want to protect us,” I explained. “They don’t want ponies like me to be singled out for what we are.” “That’s quite understandable,” Beakington said, nodding eagerly. “Although, I am curious about one thing.” “Yeah?” I asked, worried. “How long have you known this was going to happen to you?” “It was one of the first things I ever learned,” I said cryptically. Beakington scratched his head. “I probably am prying at this point, and it’s not my position to question your parents’ judgment, but it would seem to be much kinder to raise you as a filly.” “It was my choice,” I explained. “The ponies around me offered me the chance to live as a filly, but I… never… wanted this.” I actually had to blink back tears and look away from him. “Forgive me, River,” he said. “I should have been more considerate of your feelings in this matter.” I shook my head vigorously. “No, you’ve been more than fair. You’ve shown admirable restraint in dealing with something this weird.” “I don’t think it’s weird,” Beakington reassured me. “It’s a quirk of evolution certainly, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “Thanks…” I said weakly. The griffin then suddenly plucked one of his green feathers and presented it to me. “I swear by this feather that I’ll keep your secret close to my heart.” “Thanks?” I said, accepting the feather. He slumped. “Sorry for confronting you like that. You know, it was just getting harder not to say anything because your voice sounds so feminine now.” He blushed. “Anyway, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” “Wait!” I shouted. “There’s one thing I want to know.” “It’s only fair,” Beakington conceded, folding his wings back up. “If you’re able to tell my gender by my voice, then why did you think I was a filly when we first met?” “Oh, that. I’m still embarrassed about that,” he admitted. “Your voice was the first pony voice that I couldn’t accurately gender. It was a mix of masculine and feminine frequencies that I had never heard before. It made me realize that I couldn’t tell the fillies from the colts without relying on my ears. But when you sang during the first day’s music class I could tell for sure you were a colt back then. Same thing with today and the song you sang with Squirt.” Beakington unfurled his wings once more. “Thanks,” I said reluctantly. “Don’t thank me yet,” he said, laughing. “Though I’ll try to be worthy of your thanks.” With that he flew off. It wasn’t until we were several blocks away from that quarter of Canterlot that Star finally spoke: “You did well, Alice. You technically told him nothing that was untrue.” “Yeah, technically,” I echoed. When we got back to the castle, Star trotted off to arrange a special meeting with Princess Celestia, since I wasn’t slated to receive another “friendship lesson” for another two days. So, I walked back to my room in the residential quarter, trying to avoid any eye contact with any of the new exchange ponies. Like a diligent little filly, I stepped up to my desk to work on some homework. I started with the math that had been assigned earlier that day. It took me about twenty minutes, and, as usual, the only difficult part was converting the numbers in my head. Checking the syllabus, I verified that I had most of the coming week’s work done. The cutie mark poem that would be due in three weeks was likely to be a bear, but getting a head-start on Prench in advance of next week’s introduction to the subject didn’t appeal to me either. Groaning, I pulled out a piece of paper and a quill and started to think. Staring at my false mark, no inspiration came my way. It was a fairly generic mark by design, and there was only so much a wooden shield could symbolize. I could only write about wanting to protect others in a limited number of ways, and even fewer of those rhymed. Changing my strategy up, I thought back to Squirt and how he had earned his mark. He had apparently learned something about himself by working on the song with me, while actually earning the mark entailed challenging not only the teacher but conventional wisdom about Equestrian history. I had neither of these things going for me. If my story had been that defeating Bulwark earned me my mark, I’d have something to write about. However, what I had told the class was that I earned it after realizing something about myself. That too could have provided some substance, but the problem was that I had no such epiphany. The next logical thought was that I could write about wanting to be a policepony. Unfortunately, I didn’t know enough specifics about what exactly policeponies do to be able to lie about it being my life’s ambition. I could obviously guess and guess right about a lot of it, but any inconsistencies would reflect badly on my cover story. The alternative was to write about aiming to be a guardspony. However, Trusty Stead wasn’t exactly my ideal role model. True, Star Chart was a better pony to emulate, but if I were to write a poem about how I wanted to be just like her, I would probably die of embarrassment were she to find out. Of course, I could always write up some fake interpretation, but I didn’t want Fizzle to call me out again for being disingenuous. Sighing, I swept the blank page off my desk and checked the syllabus again. I still did have some reading comprehension questions to do on the play, so I pulled the paper copy from my backpack. For the climax of the play, it was a pretty boring couple of scenes. The minotaur and griffin delegations approach Celestia and complain about how Quarrel’s actions have irrevocably scarred them. Celestia offers a very short list of the good things Quarrel had done, and the complainants cite the draconequus nearly instigating war on at least two separate occasions, emphasize his dangerous unpredictability, and accuse the princesses of turning a blind eye to him because of his twisted love of ponykind. The first question merely asked me to to summarize the arguments on both sides. As expected, it was a lopsided list, but I reread the scene twice to make sure I had gotten them all down. The next question caught me off-guard. It asked about how Celestia acted when Star Swirl the Bearded was around, as opposed to just Luna. Star Swirl’s scene was a fairly short one, so I wasn’t sure what Fizzle was getting at. The unicorn mage pretty much just lectures regarding the details of what his spell does, while Celestia nods and compliments him. The stage directions indicate for Celestia to act “extremely interested in every word the stallion says,” but I didn’t know what that was about. She also asks Luna how her mane looks prior to the meeting, which struck me as extremely vain and out of character for her. Stumped, I wrote up an answer which basically said that Celestia has a professional relationship with Star Swirl and wants to maintain the dignity of her office around him. The penultimate question was a freebie, which asked what Quarrel did that made Celestia and Luna laugh. The answer: tickle them. From there, I was able to move onto the climax proper. Celestia and Luna both have reservations about banishing the draconequus, whom they both consider a friend. After a protracted debate, the sisters decide that while the draconequus still has some good in him, his pranks had grown increasingly harsh and that his actions during the war had likely cost some ponies and griffins their lives. Ultimately, they make their decision: for the sake of Harmony the draconequus must go. The banishment scene was surprisingly brief. The draconequus makes a bunch of bad puns and never seems to take Celestia or Luna seriously, remarking that the fun-loving little fillies have grown up. They try to explain to him the ramifications of his actions and how he can no longer treat matters of political importance with such flagrant disregard of consequences. Quarrel laughs them off and doesn’t believe that the friendship-loving ponies could ever do anything to harm him. With heavy hearts, Celestia and Luna unleash the magic in Star Swirl’s flute, banishing Quarrel to another dimension. The final question was one of those tough ones asking what I thought of the scene. It asked what arguments I found most convincing and whether or not I agreed with the sisters’ decisions. I smirked. There was something bothering me that put me in an argumentative mood. I like to think I did Bulwark proud. No sooner had I put the quill down then I heard a knock on the door. Slipping out of the room, I followed Star to Celestia’s personal chambers. Surprisingly, the alicorn herself was waiting for me outside the door. Star bowed and slipped away before I had a chance to thank her. “Good evening, Alice. Sorry to keep you waiting.” “Not at all. I’m grateful for any time you can spare for me,” I said. “Come on in,” she invited, closing the door magically behind us. Once more she perched herself on the bed. “So, ambassador Harpynn’s son found out about you I heard?” I nodded. “Something about griffin mating songs. He could tell by my voice that I changed into a filly. I told him some of the truth--that where I’m from magical signatures don’t always match the body and that’s what transformed me. I left out the alicorn part, of course.” Celestia nodded in approval. “So you chose to be forthcoming in your explanation to him? That’s something to be proud of certainly.” “I don’t think so,” I said insistently. “I led him down the wrong path intentionally. He concluded that I was similar to deer or clownfish, and I didn’t correct him. Isn’t that the same as lying to him?” Celestia smiled enigmatically. “Perhaps… There are some schools of thought that prioritize honesty above all else and they would limit your options to the whole truth or not answering at all. The cynics, however, acknowledge that the truth can sometimes be injurious and that some truth or half-truths can be a kindness tendered when the full truth cannot be given. I think in your situation, you shared as much of the truth as you safely could. You can’t hold yourself responsible for his assumptions and misconceptions.” “So, is this a problem?” Celestia shook her head. “He swore a feather oath to you. Griffins don’t make or break those lightly. If you come to trust him more, you can perhaps entrust him with the alicorn secret as well.” I put a hoof to my lips. “Maybe you praised my honesty too soon, since I intentionally misdirected Pink Diamond. It turns out she was never fooled about my gender.” Celestia levitated a teacup to her lips and took a sip. “Oh? Hmm, perhaps we overlooked the fact that your classmates and peers simply became accustomed to perceiving you as a colt. A fresh set of eyes can see things others tend to overlook. I regret not predicting this.” “It’s fine. It’s my problem to deal with, not yours. I should think through these things.” Though I had to admit I never would have seen this particular problem coming. “Still, we can control the damage somewhat,” Celestia said. “I’ll try to keep the exchange students away from Canterlot First, so that if they perceive you as a filly, it won’t raise any problems at school.” I looked down. “Considering how trivial this all is makes me feel bad for requesting a special audience.” “Don’t apologize, Alice. I always enjoy hearing from you. Besides, Star was under the impression that you had more to talk to me about.” “Actually, Pink Diamond told everyone I was taking friendship lessons with you and some of the fillies wanted to hear about them.” Celestia sighed. “That’s another inherent problem with dishonesty. To be good at it, you have to construct a complete, alternate reality in your mind.” “Funnily enough, that’s one of the ‘lessons’ I shared with them.” Celestia giggled. “I was sure you wouldn’t approve,” I said. “While the magic of friendship isn’t to be taken lightly it tends to be a fairly… intuitive subject. Honestly, I’ve made up a few lessons on the spot when asked for advice.” I shot her a befuddled look. “Of course, that doesn’t mean they’re invalid,” Celestia emphasized. “It can be hard not to turn discussions of friendship or virtue into parades of platitudes, but sometimes that’s exactly what a pony needs.” I motioned for her to go on. “Alice, most ponies have a good sense of right and wrong, and in a similar vein, they know how to get along with other ponies. Oftentimes all they need is a gentle reminder of how a certain general principle applies to their particular situation.” “So you’re saying my made-up friendship lessons are just as valid as anything you could have given me?” After a beat, Celestia nodded. “As long as you actually believe the advice you gave, I would say it’s legitimate. You see, Alice, the only thing really required to be someone’s mentor in friendship is to be a good friend yourself. Before she became Princess of Friendship, Twilight was actually—for lack of a nice way to put it—a bad friend. What she ultimately had to learn was that friendship was a worthwhile use of her time. That’s why I began giving her friendship lessons in the first place. But unlike her, you immediately proved yourself to be a great friend.” I shifted my hooves on the carpet. “What makes you say that?” “You showed kindness in caring for Bulwark’s feelings. I can see you value honesty from our discussion just now, and your loyalty to your companions is unquestionable. Hmm... now that I’m on a roll, I feel obligated to work in the other three elements of harmony, but these things don’t always thematically work out. Sharing laughter is one thing you could work on…” “No, you’re right: I am a good friend,” I cut in quickly. I didn’t want her to think I needed friendship lessons, after all. Celestia’s smile suggested that she saw right through me, however. “Still, I’d like to think with age comes wisdom, so if there’s ever any particular problem you have with friends, hopefully I’ll be able to say something that at least sounds sagacious.” I cracked a smile. “Actually there is one thing I’d like to hear your perspective on. To start there’s this filly called Annuity who’s not the nicest pony around.” “Where have I heard that name before?” Celestia asked herself, digging into her memory bank. “The trial of the Citrus siblings,” I answered. “She was the one that tricked Raspberry and Blueberry into stealing the golden exquisite apple.” “Oh, yes, Generous Endowment’s daughter. It’s not that I didn’t believe those foals, but I try not to let one account prejudice me against a pony. What do you think of her, Alice?” “She’s a spoiled brat and a bully,” I said simply. “She has money; she has friends; she thinks she can do whatever she wants.” “Has she ever bullied you?” Celestia asked. I nodded. “I don’t mind, though. I’m not so immature that I’d let a filly like her get to me.” “Normally I’m not one to interfere in schoolyard disputes, but if she’s hurting other ponies I could always make an exception...” “No need. My classmates and I are working on a solution,” I urged. Realizing that sounded somewhat ominous, I divulged the full story of Pink Diamond, Annuity and Zap. Celestia went quiet and closed her eyes to think. “You seem to be handling things well. I like that you’ve turned this situation into a positive. Zephyr Zap’s position is curious, though…” “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about,” I said, remembering. “One of my friendship students wanted to know what you thought of Zephyr Zap’s sentiment.” Celestia took another long sip of tea. “I’ll answer in a roundabout way. Alice, why do you think I’m giving these exchange students friendship lessons after sharing what I have with you about the exercise?” “Because it’s expected of you?” I tried. “Not quite. You see, in recruiting these ponies, I collected accounts from their parents, guardians or teachers describing how they interact with other ponies. The ones I picked were the ones that have had trouble making friends. Curiously, Zephyr Zap reminds me of a certain crystal filly.” “They’re both outgoing,” I admitted, “but Zephyr Zap has plenty of friends. I assume that’d be the case with Pink Diamond as well, yet you’re implying she had need of your friendship lessons.” Celestia crossed her front hooves and lay down on her barrel. “As you might have observed Pink Diamond goes for quantity over quality in choosing her friends. She can make superficial connections with ponies, but because she tries to be friends with everypony she never has a chance to mature into anything more than their acquaintance. Now, that may or may not be true with young Miss Zap, but I imagine there’s a lot they could learn from one another.” She regarded me with an imploring look. “Alice, can I entrust you with this matter?” “What!?” I had not been expecting that. “I mean, I will try and guide Diamond and hopefully I will be able to mitigate whatever hurt Annuity can put her through. However, I think there’s a lot more she and Zap alike can learn from you as their peer. So, I’ll ask again: can I entrust you with these little ponies?” I blinked nervously. I didn’t know why Zap needed protecting as popular as she was. I also wanted to avoid making a promise I couldn’t keep. Surprisingly, though, I agreed. “I’m not sure what I can do, but I’ll certainly try. I mean, I already gave Star my word that I would watch out for Diamond, and Zap’s super nice, so I’d want to help her anyway. Yeah, I think I can do it.” The princess stepped down from the bed and stroked me with a wing. “You have a good heart, my little pony.” As she massaged my withers, I had to make an effort not to start cooing. “How was the rest of your day?” “Oh, it was fine,” I said, snapping back to reality as she stopped. “I got a C+ for my song with Squirt because we weren’t creative enough or passionate enough.” “Don’t be discouraged. With your upbringing, creativity will take some time. Independent thinking, too.” “Speaking of that, I applied the tips Bulwark gave me and tried to make an argument in my reading comprehension.” Celestia’s eyes glimmered with interest. “Do tell.” Seeing her expectant expression, I nervously looked away before making what came out as a confession. “The teacher wanted to know what I thought of Quarrel’s banishment, so I made the argument that it was really irresponsible.” “Really?” Celestia asked, no hint of judgment in her voice. Hearing this, I mustered the courage to look her in the eye again. “I don’t know if the play reflects what you actually talked about, but I think you and Luna’s characters overlooked something big. Since you didn’t destroy Quarrel, he had to go somewhere, right?” Celestia’s expression hardened. “Yes, that is true, Alice. Even though the unabridged version of the play does discuss the dilemma, it’s an issue the playwrights swept under the rug. That very thought kept Luna and I awake many a night. “But you did it anyway,” I said, stating the obvious. “You read the play, so you understand the political pressure we were under. The griffins were accusing us of colluding with Quarrel and thought that his stunt of transforming them into ponies was just a test to see if we could pull it off on a larger scale. Since war was unavoidable otherwise, we tried to make the option we were forced into—an unhappy one—as morally palatable as possible. Though it was mostly a product of his genius, Luna and I actually worked with Star Swirl to craft the spell. What we achieved was an inter-dimensional teleportation spell with two conditions. The goal was to prevent an outcome with either Quarrel or the natives being oppressed.” “How did you accomplish that?” “With the conditions: First, the spell would transport Quarrel to a dimension much less saturated with magic. While we didn’t want to make him helpless, we wanted to limit his reckless use of chaos magic. Second, the spell would transport him to a world with a harmonic quotient at least three times greater than that of Equestria’s. We reasoned that from a probabilistic standpoint it was a virtual guarantee that only a world with its own force of Harmony could meet this condition. Strong Harmony would enforce magical signatures more strictly and limit Quarrel’s ability to do damage. Between these two parameters, the spell would select the perfect world from an infinite number of choices. As a draconequus, Quarrel is immune to ambient Harmony, so our hope was he would use his limited chaos magic to transform himself in order to live a fulfilling life on a peaceful and prosperous world.” “That makes sense,” I said simply. “Although... I’m not a mathematician, but it seems that you made a lot of assumptions.” “That’s something I’ve tended to realize more and more. If only we had had the Elements of Harmony back then, all of this could have been avoided,” she said, looking down. Before I knew what I was doing, I approached her and wrapped my forelegs around one of hers. “You’ve done enough to convince me you did the right thing. You did your diligence, so hopefully your efforts were rewarded.” Celestia looked up at the ceiling. “I can only hope so...” Stepping through the tapestry, Diane once more marvelled at the miraculous underground clearing. Lights flittered from the ceiling to illuminate the chamber, while otherworldly trees and plants thrived, ignorant of the harsh desert above them. Most interesting of all was the small, circuitous river that somehow flowed without a visible propulsion means. Crossing the stylized, wooden bridge, the Rhod girl arrived at a rustic wooden cottage and knocked once. “Master, Quarrel, I have returned.”