Chapter by: Sollace
Apple Bloom bounded through the open street. “Ah’m open!” she screamed, leaping from hoof to hoof, reared up and waving her hooves as she made a beeline for Scootaloo. “Come on!” she insisted, dancing frantically to grab Scootaloo’s attention. She was practically running as she jumped into Scoot’s path. “Pass it to me!” Her voice cracked. “I’m open!”
“Wha—” Scootaloo did a double take. She stumbled and swerved, skidding to a halt. “What?” Scootaloo glanced to Apple Bloom, her mouth turning down.
It took a few seconds before something clicked and she recoiled away, clutching at the red ball against her chest. “N-No!” she screamed. Scootaloo caressed her ball, spreading her wings and a protecting it as if it were her own flesh and blood. She hissed towards Apple Bloom. “That’s not how Buckball works!”
“Is too!” Apple Bloom retorted. She punctuated her words with a stomp of her hoof, and lunged forwards to grab the ball.
Scootaloo jumped back, squeezing the ball even tighter. “Is not!” she yelled, and yanked the ball away, narrowly dodge Bloom. “You’re supposed to pass it to somepony on the,” she dodged again, “on the other team!”
“But—” Apple Bloom put on a pout. “That’s not fair! Come on,” she said. “Give it!” She smothered Scootaloo as she lunged at the ball.
Try as she might, Scootaloo couldn’t keep the ball out of the enemy’s reach, and soon they both devolved into a pile of feathers and fur as they wrestled over the ball. “Let go,” Apple Bloom said, teeth clenched as she bore down on the ball.
“No!” Scootaloo pulled back. “You let go!”
“Ah’m not gonna—”
“Ow! You’re twisting my arm!”
“Hey! Don’t twist it,” she gasped, “you’re goin’ t—”
“Hey,” Twist lisped. She leaned in between them, bearing a wide, happy-go-lucky grin. The filly bared her fresh new braces as she looked between the foals. “Did thompony call for a T—”
SQUEE—THUNK
Twist was cut off, her words replaced by a startled—“Yelp!”—accompanied by the hollow, resounding, smack of plastic against molars as the ball connected with her face. Twist pitched backwards as the ball ricocheted away from her. She uttered a mumbled, “T-witht…” before stumbling away, and crumpling to the ground before them.
“Twist!” Apple Bloom and Scootaloo gasped, in near unison as they rushed to their injured friend.
Apple Bloom covered her mouth with her hooves, watching in abject horror as Scootaloo leaned in to help. “I-is she…” Scootaloo gulped, clearing her throat.
Scootaloo was broken from her shock-induced stupor by a hoof grasping her shoulder. She was jerked around by Apple Bloom, eyes wide, as she stared upwards towards the sky. “What?” Scootaloo asked, before following her friend’s gaze up, and turning pale as she caught glimpse of the ball.
Each of them stared, eyes glued to the rubber sphere and mouths gaping, as they traced its path across the sky, heading directly for— “Sweetie Belle! Look out!”
Sweetie Belle jolted to attention, her concentration broken as she snapped out of her trance. “Huh? What?” She looked around in confusion, her basket bobbing along as she turned her head. “Apple Bloom, what did you—” A flicker of motion caught her eye, and Sweetie Belle went pale, paler than usual, even paler than her sister on a bad hair day. Sweetie Belle screamed. Her mane frayed as she recoiled away from the ball. She dropped the basket and rolled into a tight ball, desperately shielding her face with her hooves.
No sooner had she done so, had there been a spark and a flash. Sweetie was blinded momentarily as her horn burst to life, and a bubble of green energy erupted around her, encompassing the foal just in time to deflect the ball. The bubble burst, and the ball rebounded away, towards and directly through the nearest window.
There were several smashes that followed, each growing louder and ever more distant as the ball continued on its path of carnage. Sweetie Belle, still shaking like a leaf, slowly uncoiled and lifted her head. “I-I-,” she stuttered, “Is it—”
CRASH
“Oh Celestia!” A mare’s voice called out, curdling Sweetie’s—and anypony else’s who happened to be in earshot—blood. She curled back into her ball as the mare’s cries continued. “Who in Tartarus would throw a b—” SMASH “—ng ball in—” Her curses were quickly drowned out by the cacophony of alarms and sirens that followed. The building thundered with the pounding of stampeding hooves as ponies clamored to control the menace, and the window promptly exploded, billowing plumes of black smoke.
The Crusaders had just moment to collect themselves. They shared a collective gulp, faces written with a combination of confusion, concern, and ‘We’re-totally-boned’ looks between them, before the front door burst open.
“Okay!” Their fur stood on end as Twilight appeared in the doorway, snarling upon a wave of sirens and black smoke behind her.”Who.” She was steaming; literally, it came off of her like a roast turkey. “Did. This.” She didn’t have to look far. As Twilight stepped into the open, she locked eyes with the nearest culprit, Celestia help their poor souls. “Which one of you threw that?” Twilight bared her teeth, leering at each of the Crusaders in turn, burrowing into them with the intense fury of a Royal Alicorn Princess.
Not even Twist was spared her wrath as, just when she was coming to, she caught sight of Twilight in her eye and immediately re-fainted.
The Crusaders gulped. They glanced between themselves, then they slowly pointed to each other, donning their most innocent faces.
“Ooooh no,” Twilight began. Puffing out her chest, she readied her lecturing hoof as she started towards the fillies. “What did I say about playing Buckball outside the—”
“Hey, Tilighsh-t!” Twilight had barely even started, when she was cut off by a kind of slurred gargle from behind. A hoof wrapped itself around her barrel, and Twilight was bowled sideways as Berry Punch slammed into her side. “Twi-height,” she slurred, stumbling over herself—and the princess—as she shook Twilight to grab her attention. “Hey—hey, Twili-sight—”
“B-berry Punch?” Twilight gasped. Her voice wobbled as she was shaken and, spreading her wings, Twilight planted her hooves and stood her ground, groaning as she shoved the drunk mare off of herself. “What are—”
“He-hey, Twishy,” Berry continued regardless, talking over Twilight’s word. “Let m’l take on thash Aliron Amulisht!”
“N—” Groaning, and with a hoof to the mare’s face, Twilight shoved Berry Punch away from her, narrowly avoiding the strings of drool she trailed after her. “Go home, Berry Punch. You’re drunk!”
Berry Punch paused. She frowned as she thought hard about Twilight’s words and, after a good few seconds of wracking her brain, she blinked, and cast her gaze over the quintuplet of ponies gathered before her. They each stared at her, seemingly expectant, as Berry Punch drew a deep breath to speak. “No home,” she said, “is are drunk am I!”
“Ugh…” Twilight facehoofed. She groaned, long and heavy into her hooves, and slowly began to rub her temples. It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it? “Berry, please, you have t—”
“No! I no home want, I!” Berry shook her head. She then sidestepped Twilight, starting towards the door.“Alicrombus Alimulet,” she said, practically falling over Twilight as she tried to reach the door. “I-I can the Alicrombus Amululet!”
“No, Berry.” Twilight stepped back into the way, blocking her path. She held Berry off with a hoof to the chest. “No, you can’t.”
“I can, Twlish!” Again, she tried to pass Twilight, and again the Alicorn stopped her. “I know I—” Berry’s eyes crossed for a second. “—can,” she said.
“How?”
Berry paused. “How?” she asked.
Twilight facehoofed, again. It actually hurt. “How are you going to defeat the Amulet?”
“I can—” Berry tapped her chin in thought. She looked to the side. “It’s will—” Then the other, and she turned to face Twilight. “I’m drunk, Starlight.”
“I’m not going to let you inside in this condition.”
“But Crombulus, Twilight!” Berry Punch screamed, and slammed into Twilight, hooves flailing as she attempted to mount the princess.
“Berry Punch,” Twilight gasped, “What are yo—”
“Take me—” She was practically on top of Twilight, squirming and wriggling frantically. Berry latched onto Twilight’s back and pulled down to hoist herself up. “Take me to the Amulet!”
“No!” Twilight screamed. She ducked as a hoof narrowly missed her forehead, and then winced as part of her mane caught in Berry's mouth. Biting back the cry, Twilight blinked the tears from her eyes and called for the guards. “Guards!” she screamed, and glanced to the doorway.
Several Royal Guards stood in the entranceway, spears at the ready, with blank looks on their faces as they watched this all unfold. They all jumped to attention as Twilight’s call. “Get over here, quick!”
Berry suddenly turned violent. She bit down on Twilight’s mane, and flailed her hooves, kicking off the guards as they fought to subdue her. “Mesh me shoo!” she screamed into Twilight’s mane, biting and clawing to keep her make-shift throne. “Alicron Crombulus!”
The guards finally clamped down on Berry, pinning her hooves and grunting as they pulled the mare free from Twilight’s mane. The Crusaders all stood back. They watched in horror, mouths gaping as the whole contingent, Twilight and Berry included, marched right past them, escorting Twilight and her passenger back to Berry’s home.
“Uh…”
After several minutes of staring, and watching as the entire group disappeared into the distance, the Crusaders began to reboot. Sweetie Belle blinked. “That was…”
“What the hay just happened?” Scootaloo cut Sweetie off, glancing between her two friends.
“Ah figure,” Apple Bloom began. She gestured to the now abandoned doorway, before sharing a look with Scootaloo. They both grinned, and angled their gaze down between them. “That ball ain’t goin’ to fetch itself.”
“What are—” Sweetie Belle leaned up between them, looking from Scootaloo’s grin, to Apple Bloom’s. Both of their eyes said the same thing, she suddenly realised, and Sweetie Belle gasped. “Oh—” Sweetie waved her hooves, shaking her head abhorrently, “No way, I’m not going anywhere near that place.”
“I can’t believe we’re going anywhere near this place.”
“Come on, Sweetie Belle!”
The Crusaders stood on the cusp of the unknown, lined up in the doorway to the lab and staring into the darkness within. The sirens had since turned themselves off, leaving only the subtle whistle of the cold breeze and the occasional crackle of broken glass.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo nodded. She shimmied closer to Sweetie’s side, squeezing into the doorway to get a better view of the interior. “It’s just a little dark. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
“’Sides,” Apple Bloom said. She pulled Sweetie Belle into a sideways hug, comforting the filly as she gestured to herself and Scoots. “You got us. We ain’t going to let anything bad happen to you.”
“Mhm.” Scootaloo nodded in agreement. “Yeah! Even Cerberus couldn’t take on the Cutie Mark-ed Crusaders!”
“Mostly ‘cause he was allergic to chicken,” whispered Bloom.
Sweetie Belle stifled a giggle, and Scootaloo turned bright red. Her cheeks darkened by the second as she spoke. “N-No!” She spread her wings proudly, puffing her plume to hide her embarrassment. “That’s not—” With a quick glanced behind them, Scootaloo leaned closer to Bloom and whispered. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that?”
“Oh, come on, Scoots.” Apple Bloom jested. She bopped Scootaloo’s muzzle and, letting go of Sweetie Belle, trotted forwards into the darkness. “It was just a joke.”
The inside of the lab was dark and dank. Smoke hung heavy in the air, the scent burning harshly at the back of Sweetie Belle’s throat. She slowly wandered further into the deep, dark depths. The crunch of broken glass and pine-needles beneath hoof, the sputter of broken lamps, and the hollow thunder of rolling barrels as somepony rummaged through the wreckage.
All the while, Sweetie kept up her pace, trotting ever further. “Remember, check everywhere.” Apple Bloom’s voice echoed from somewhere up the halls, “The ball has to be somewhere in this place.”
“Okay!” she shouted back, “I will!” Rolling her eyes, Sweetie turned her back to the entrance, muttering silently beneath her breath. It’s not even my fault… She scrunched her muzzle, face turned up into a scowl. Why do I always have to be the one to—
Sw—t— B—
She stopped cold. A shiver ran up Sweetie Belle’s spine, like a cold wind had just blown past her. “What was…” Sweetie swallowed. Her ears pricked, and she glanced around her. She could’ve sworn she’d just heard her—
The silence broke. A cold breeze whipped past her mane, carrying with it yet another whisper, seemingly closer than the last. S—s-weetie Belle.
Now she knew somepony was calling her.
Sweetie Belle glanced one last time behind her—M-maybe it was just Scootaloo, whispering in her ear to try and scare her? Something was telling her it wasn’t, but still she had to check.
As Sweetie looked behind her, she heard a distant crash. The halls boomed with a hollow knock, and a startled yelp as somepony barrelled through a pile of crates. “Careful, Scootaloo!” came Sweetie’s answer. Apple Bloom shouted far in the distance, and she glimpsed the shadows of two fillies wrestling over something past the corner. “I don’ want ah be breaking everythin’ we touch. Not again,” Apple Bloom shouted with a grunt.
That was it.
Sweetie Belle gulped.
The wind picked up her mane, whipping it into frenzy. She could hear the breeze whispering her name, calling her forwards.
“Now I have to see this.”
“Pssst…”
Sweetie Belle groaned. “Not now.” Screwing her eyes shut, she waved a hoof and turned onto her side. “Rarity, I—Just—” She muffled a yawn. “Just five more minut—”
“Psst…”
Whoever it was, they were persistent, she had to give it them. She set up a whine. “But I don’t want to go to—” As she reached for the covers, Sweetie Belle stopped cold. Something clicked inside mind, and her daze was shattered. It suddenly dawned on her. The harsh prick of rocks in her back, the warm sun in her face, and the feeling of something round and squishy pressed against her chest, all of it different, and all absolutely nothing like the velvet sheets of her bed at home.
“Pssst…”
Sweetie jolted awake. She leapt to her hooves, almost dropping her ball as she spun, taking in the scene.
It was hardly a place she recognized. Buildings and cottages, all familiar but they were in the wrong place. She spotted Ditzy’s cottage in one corner next to Carrot Top’s, and Berry’s on the far side. Each structure was facing away, their windows shut, and walls forced together as if to form some sort of pen.
The road between them was lined with cobbles. What little sky she could see betrayed a deep, clear blue, and the alleyways—
“Psst…” Sweetie caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and she noticed something—somepony—crouching in the shadows. Their eyes glowed dimly in the light as they stared her way. “Hey ,” it said, “Hey you.”
Sweetie Belle gulped. “Wh—” She glanced behind her, then looked back to the figure, ears dropping as she gestured to herself. “Who? Me?”
“Yes…” the figure hissed. The shadows around it slowly coalesced, forming the clearer outline of pony. Draped in a cloak, it lurched backwards, standing tall and betraying the contours of a horn. “Please,” it said, motioning with a hoof, “come closer.”
Sweetie gulped, again. “O-okay.” Tentatively, she took a few steps forwards, squinted into the dark darkness. “Who—”
“Closer,” it whispered. The figure seemed to shimmer, and its voice turned more feminine in nature as it spoke. “Let me see you, dear.”
“Ee—” Sweetie Belle squeaked and quickly scuttled forwards, stepping into the dark.
The figure towered over her menacingly, as it inspected Sweetie’s form. It only seemed to grow taller by the minute. “We have been watching you, Sweetie Belle.” A smile crept across the darkness. “I’m sure there are you have many questions to ask us, but first—”
Sweetie gasped. “Princess Luna?” Her eyes lit up as she almost squealed on the spot, “Oh my Celestia, is that you?”
“Wh-what!?” The figure did a double take. “How did you—”
“It is you!” She clapped her hooves to her cheeks, smiling, and eyes sparkling. “If you’re here, then this must be a dream, right?” She pawed then began hopping eagerly, singing, “I knew you had to be coming again! I knew it! I’ve been praying to Celestia that I’d get to see you again and now you are here and we’re going to have so much—”
“Woah, woah, woah!” The figure backed away from Sweetie Belle, more out of shock than anything else. “N-No, I’m not—” It scrambled for an explanation, waving Sweetie Belle back with its hooves. “I’m not Princess Luna, that’s not what I’m—”
Sweetie Belle stopped mid-cheer to look up at the figure. “Y-You’re not?” she whispered. Her eyes shimmered, and a single tear pooled in their corner.
“N—” The figure averted his gaze. “No,” it eventually grunted out. “I’m not—”
“Then who are you?” Sweetie Belle pried further, taking a step towards the figure—from which it immediately retreated.
“I’m—” The figure stumbled backwards, deflating slightly under the filly’s dreadful assault. “I—” It glanced away then, taking a deep breath, clenched its teeth and pushed back. “If you’ll let me finish,” he growled. “I’ll tell you that I’m, uh…” The figure frowned in the darkness. “I’m, uh…” It swallowed and then, with a flourish, the figure dispelled the darkness, casting away its coat on the wind and revealing itself to the light. “Your sister Rarity, of course!”
“No you’re not.”
“Wh—” Not-Rarity guffawed. “What? Of course I am!” She flourished her mane, batting an eyelid a very skeptical Sweetie Belle. “Why, who else could have such a fabulous mane?”
“Well…” Sweetie Belle glanced to her hooves for a second, counting silently to herself. One, two three… “… I heard Braeburn might—“
“What other mares,” Rarity scoffed. “I mean, really, do you have to take everything I say absolutely literally?”
“Your voice is too high.”
“No it’s not!”
“Yes.” Sweetie nodded. “It is.”
“…”
Silence.
Not-Rarity coughed. “Rrrrari—”
“Still too high.”
“Rarrrri—”
“Too low.”
“Daaarling~!” Not-Rarity sang, How lovely t—”
“Now that’s just offensive.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Not-Rarity facehoofed, hard. She groaned into her hooves, and then, still with her head covered, she muttered. “Did I at least get the mane right?”
Sweetie cantered to the side, motioning behind her into the open. “Step into the light, let me see.”
Nat-Rarity wordlessly complied, trotting out with Sweetie Belle on her tail. She stopped in the open, her face still hidden in her hooves, and waited patiently as Sweetie Belle inspected her.
“Hm…” Sweetie silently hummed to herself, brow furrowed as she circled her not-sister. She glanced at each of the curls in turn, brushing them back with her magic, and then watching as they sprung back into place.
At length, she stepped away from Not-Rarity, and frowned. “It’s…” Her eyes flicked from the mane to tail. “… Okay, a little dull.”
“Oh, who am I kidding!” Not-Rarity dropped to the ground. She covered her face with her hooves and bawled. “I’m a failure! I’ve been defeated so many times now. How am I supposed to get anything done when I can’t even fool a foal!”
“Aw…” Sweetie Belle kneeled next to her imitation sister, and wrapped her hooves around her, squeezing the mare in a tightest hug she could manage. “It’s okay…” she whispered, stroking Not-Rarity’s mane. “Princess, you don’t have to pretend around me. And besides, my sister’s mane is really hard to get right.”
“…I’m not Princess Luna.”
“Why don’t you want to be Princess Luna?”
“It’s hard to describe. I had a bad experience wi—” Not-Rarity paused. Her head snapped upright and she glared into Sweetie Belle’s eyes. “Why am I telling you this?”
Sweetie Belle shrugged.
“Enough!” Not-Rarity leapt to her hooves. Sweetie yelped, and tumbled away as her sister exploded into a cloud of black energy. The fog coalesced into a new shape, a shadowy figure with no distinct features, and bright red, glowing eyes.
The eyes hovered low above Sweetie, boring into her with their intense ferocity. “Fine!” she huffed, the mock Rarity imitation long gone. The cloud’s voice came in a deep, baritone rumbled, deep from its dark depths. “I’m not Rarity, and I’m not Princess Luna, either!” It drew even closer, almost touching Sweetie’s face with its plumes. “But I know you, Sweetie Bell. I—We—can see everything there is to see within in your heart, and we know what you have done, what you have seen. We know your deepest desires, and we know there is something you will do anything to attain.”
“I do really like showtunes.”
The cloud bore its teeth as it nodded—“Yes—” and quickly turned to a shake. “No! You wish to know your special talent,” it insisted. Pace unbroken, he continued his speech in his dark tone. “You wish to know personal space in this world. You desire a…”He breathed. “A cutie mark.”
Sweetie’s ears pricked. She glanced up, looking the cloud in the eyes. “Did you jus—”
“I can get you one.” The cloud cut in. He wasn’t about to let this filly interrupt him, again. “We can get you a cutie mark, all you have to do is—”
“Um, actually,” Sweetie Belle said. She pouted in the cloud’s face, frowning, then turning sideways. Sweetie’s cheeks burned pink as she gestured to her flank. “I…” she said, “kind of already have one.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“… How did I not even notice that?”
“I’dunno.” Sweetie shrugged. “I’ve been told some ponies tend to block it out, like it never happened.”
An awkward silence fell between them.
The figure looked away for a moment. The rolls of fog whipped up, swirling around it as he shifted slightly in the darkness. “Hm…” He thought for a moment, and then exclaimed, “Fame! Yes!”—He nodded to himself—“you want to be famous!”
A wind picked up in the alleyway, blowing between them and whipping Sweetie’s mane into a frenzy. “What’s hap—”Sweetie Belle gasped. Before she could say another word, the clouds of fog collapsed in, plunging them both into darkness.
A faint laugh came from the distance, as the figure dissipated into a black mist. “Imagine it now,” it said. Its voice thundered all around, echoing in Sweetie Belle’s ears. Something in the dark whipped past Sweetie’s fetlock, tickling her, as blackened mist curled around her tiny body. “The cameras, the adulation, the love and longing.” Faint, barely noticeable, a distant roar began in Sweetie’s ears, like the rumble of a waterfall in the mountains. “Millions of ponies will be chanting your name…” The voice said, and with it the roar only grew stronger, slowly turning into the chants of millions of voice.
It continued, snarling. “Your name will be up in lights for all to see…”
A spark and a flash ignited the darkness, and Sweetie was almost blinded as the darkness shone bright. Shielding her eyes, she squinted up, staring upon her own name, ‘Sweetie Belle’ spelled out in neon lights, strung across a bed of Broadway lights.
The distant rumble was a now a deafening roar, repeating over and over, Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle. She could barely hear anything else, and she almost missed the voice’s next words beside her.
“Listen to that, Sweetie Belle.” The cloud of mist switched sides, whispering into each ear. “They love you. All of them, everywhere, and I can make it real. All you have to do is—”
“I—” Sweetie pulled away. Squinting as she turned her back to the sign. “I—but—” She frowned. “Why would I want that?”
“Well—”
“I already have Apple Bloom and Scoots,” Sweetie whined, cutting the voice off as she started to pace, “They’re more than anything I could ever ask for.” She putting more distance between herself and it. “Plus”—She turned, pointing to the neon light—“I’d much rather have two real friends than a million who don’t even know me!”
The lights cut out, and just like that it was gone. The chanting faded, and they were both plunged back into darkness.
“Well…” The voice echoed around Sweetie. “Then perhaps there is something else I can tempt you with…” There was a snicker as he let those words stand before continuing.
Fire. Hot and red. The darkness was torn away as everything around Sweetie turned to flame, bright oranges and reds shimmered and flicked to the heavens as the came back with a booming thunder.
“Vengeance.”
Sweetie almost jumped, recoiling away from the flames lapping at her hooves. It was all around her, sweltering and all-consuming. Heat radiated, stifling and choking, and yet strangely comforting. All the while the voice continued.
“I can sense the hatred in your heart,” he whispered, the voice turning rough, snarling almost, as it bore fangs in the light. “It burns with a fire so hot. You want that Tiara filly—”
Sweetie glanced around her, searching for the source of the voice. “Diamond Tiara?” she asked.
“Yes…” The voice hissed back, venom dripping from its tongue. “Diamond Tiara.” It bit the word off, as it drew near behind Sweetie’s back. “You want her to pay for all that she has done. All of those terrible, destructive things. How she hurt, and teased you. The lying; the cheating; the manipulating—”
“Nope!” Sweetie Belle chirped. “We’re cool now.”
“What?” The flames around her whipped, doing a double take. There was a burst of smoke, and the figure reappeared in front of Sweetie Belle, shouting as he pressed glared her in the eyes. “You’re what!?” The flames around them stopped, each one frozen in time. “How can you be just fine?” He shook his head, trembling as he held Sweetie by the withers, and shook her. “Have you even seen what she did to you guys? Am I even reading the right mind right now!?”
“Mhm,” she nodded. “Yeah, she apologized and we forgave her. We’re friends now.”
“No, but—” The flames shattered, clattering to the ground like glass. “That’s not—” He shook his head. “No.”
Sweetie sensed the distinct noise of teeth grinding—not a good sign. Whenever that happened, it usually meant Twilight or one of her friends were right behind, with punishment. “Um…” Sweetie gulped. “Are you—”
“Than what about popularity?” The figure spat back.
“You already did that one.”
“This one’s different!” He snapped, shaking Sweetie one more time before regaining his composure. The figure pulled back. He leant to his haunches and slicked back his mane. “I mean—” He coughed, and began again, his voice taking on a slightly more melodious tone. “I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams!”
With a flick of his hoof, the space around them shifted once again, ripping as visions of gold and diamond took form.
The mountains piled and churned, forming an ocean of precious jewelry, towering over both of them to distances beyond comprehension. “All of this, and more,” the figure said, gesturing to their surrounds, “can be yours if you just—”
“I’m twelve,” Sweetie said. She took one glance at the mountains of gold, then turned deadpan, “What am I even supposed to do with this?”
The suddenly illusion shattered, punctured by a scream as the figure let out a long, pained, drawn-out groan. “Oooh come on!”
The shadows lifted, returning them both to the alleyway, and soft afternoon light. The figure’s horn glowed a dim red, and the shadows hardened around him, reforming his cloak. He trotted up to Sweetie Belle, towering menacingly, as he snarled. “Here” From beneath the cloak he produced the Alicorn Amulet, its head glowing with bright red eyes, and practically shoved it in front of Sweetie Belle’s face. “Just—” He grit his teeth—“Put it on already!”
Sweetie scrunched her nose, frowning as she inspected the Amulet. “I don’t know…” she said, frowning. Sweetie tapped the trinket with a hoof, as if testing it. “…Rarity said not to take more cursed items from strangers in dark alleys…”
“Wh—” The voice did a double take. … is she serious— He shook it hoof, rather choosing to ignore that last part. “It’s not cursed!”
“Then why is it glowing?”
“It’s a good curse!”
“A good curse?” Sweetie’s muzzle scrunched even further.
“Yes—Come on!—” He facehoofed. “I don’t know.” He leaned closer until their muzzle was almost touching. Thin wisps of smoke trailed off the figure, chilling Sweetie’s nose, causing her to inch away from him. “Look!” he shouted, gesturing to the Amulet again. “It will make you infinitely powerful! You could be The Great Evil Belle, and they will all bow before you!”
“But I’m not evil!” Sweetie yelled back. Then, pausing, she quickly added, “And why are we yelling?”
“Yes, you are!” The figure’s voice crackled. “You just don’t know it yet!”
Sweetie cringed at this. She inched away from the figure, her ears flattening as she shoved the Amulet out of her face in disgust. “I—” she said, then dropped to a whisper, “I’m… uncomfortable. I want to go.”
“You can’t go!” The voice shouted. It shoved the Amulet back into Sweetie’s face, before dropping to its haunches at her hooves. “Just put it on!” It pleaded. The voice crackled, wracked with a stifled sob. “I’m begging you, please; you have to put it on before—Sweetie Belle?”
The voice’s tone suddenly changed, turning high-pitched and feminine, slightly coarse to the touch. “Sweetie Belle?” it said, eyes wide and frozen in a state of shock. “What are you doing?” she asked, insistently, “Wake up, Twilight’s almost here!”
Sweetie jolted awake. A hoof shook on her shoulders, and she was jerked around to find Scootaloo’s face staring her down, concern written across the filly’s features.
“Scootaloo?” Sweetie blinked and rubbed her eyes. As her vision started to clear, the darkened surroundings came into view. She glanced to the Amulet in her right hoof, and then to the ball in her left. “What are you…?”
“No time!” Scootaloo whispered, shouted, beneath her breath. She moved quickly, grabbing Sweetie hoof and dragging her along as they made a beeline for the exit. “You have the ball, now let’s go already!”
“Wait!” Sweetie tried to protest. She felt the Amulet slip from her hoof, clatter loudly to the floor behind her. “But—” She had barely a second to look back in search for it and, just as she caught sight of the object on the cement floor; it was gone, disappeared from view as they turned the corner.
“I…” she said. “We didn’t even get his name.”