//------------------------------// // Mimic // Story: Corrigenda // by Jay Bear v2 //------------------------------// Fluttershy waited all night for a knock at the bedroom window that never came. The knock arrived instead at the front door. She opened it to find a bedraggled creature covered in a piebald pattern of sooty blue fur and angry red flesh. Crusty black rivulets trailed from the poor thing’s paltry forelocks to the silver necklace dangling around its chest. Two charred, gnarled stumps sprouted where its ears should have been. “Hey, Flutters,” the creature said in a familiar raspy voice. “I’ve got something really horrible to tell you.” Fluttershy blinked, and the creature became a burned and weeping Rainbow Dash. “You don’t have to say anything,” Fluttershy said as she pulled Rainbow into the house. “Why don’t you sit down?” Rainbow waved her away. “I get it, I bet I look like a marshmallow that got dropped in a campfire. I feel fine, although I could really use a shower. Don’t worry about me.” She turned to look Fluttershy in the eye. “Flutters, I’m so sorry, but the mansion burned down.” “Did Applejack do it?” Rainbow drew in a breath. “No. It might have been my fault, actually.” “It’s okay, I’m sure you only did what you had to do.” She nudged Rainbow towards the bathroom. There’d be time later to mourn the loss of her plans for the mansion. For now, she had to take care of Rainbow. “I’m not totally sure, though. Either way, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.” Rainbow finally complied with Fluttershy’s nudges and stepped into the shower tub. “Do you know what happened to Applejack?” Rainbow paused. “I’d better tell you what happened from the start.” Fluttershy cleaned Rainbow’s wounds with a sponge and cold water while Rainbow recounted meeting Applejack, fighting a familiar, and finding themselves surrounded by fire. “A beam fell on me, and Applejack saw it and ran,” Rainbow said. “Maybe she got scared, or maybe she wasn’t strong enough to help…I don’t know. I sort of lightning’d my way out of there, and holy moly, it hurt.” She told Fluttershy about escaping and rescuing Applejack from the craft room. As Fluttershy applied analgesic cream to Rainbow’s burns, Rainbow described how she and Applejack carried each other away from the inferno. On the way to town, Applejack had told her about a blue feather she’d found at a library in Star Swirl’s School for Gifted Unicorns. That reminded Fluttershy of Sunset’s offer for an internship at the Canterlot Zoo and the letter she had meant to write declining it. She slung a loose bandage around the worst burns on Rainbow’s back while Rainbow talked about finding a hotel for Applejack to stay in. “They didn’t even want to let us in at first; they said we needed to go to the hospital,” Rainbow said. “I got pretty furious with them. Then Applejack, out of nowhere, put on this perfect Canterlot accent and said we’re actors doing research for a play. That I’m in makeup and in character round-the-clock as this hard-bitten Air Guard deserter. Then she told them that if the hotel lost the studio’s reservation, they were all in huge trouble. Five minutes later, they had a suite ready for her.” Fluttershy examined Rainbow’s wings. Most of her flight feathers had been shredded by brambles and twisted uselessly. She applied a molting ointment to each of the damaged feathers’ follicles so they’d fall out in a few days, allowing fresh feathers to grow in with the next molt. With luck, Rainbow might be back in the air before winter. “I know I owe you a talk about this.” Rainbow caressed her necklace. “That kind of goes double now. Kyubey was hiding Applejack from Rarity and us, but he told her stuff about us that got her to come to Ponyville looking for us. Maybe he’s not so trustworthy.” While Rainbow spoke, Fluttershy took a pair of shears and trimmed down her tattered mane. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but it would make Rainbow a little more presentable in public. “We can talk about it later. You should get some rest now.” Rainbow shook the stray hair out of her eyes and ran a hoof through her mohawk with a simper. “Oh yeah, can I sleep here? It’s going to be hard for me to get back to my place with, you know…” She stretched out her battered right wing. “The couch is all yours.” “Thanks, Flutters,” she said. “One last thing. Applejack didn’t like the apples. I want to see her tomorrow and bring something to make her feel more comfortable at the hotel. Got any ideas?” Fluttershy thought for a moment. “Did she tell you about laurys?” Rainbow knocked first because she figured Applejack would want some privacy. She waited, knocked again, and only then took out the spare key from her saddlebag. The door swung open with a juddering whine, casting a beam of light into the dark room and onto a desk littered with newspapers. A room service tray, its dishes picked clean, lay on the floor beside an empty bed. Uncertain of where Applejack could be, she stepped away from the doorframe. Then came the snore, drawn out like a machine rumbling to life. Rainbow opened the door the rest of the way to find Applejack nestled in a recliner on the other side of the suite. She let out a relieved sigh. Applejack twitched. “Who’s that?” “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just me, you know, Sparky. I got a spare key when we checked in last night.” She walked into the room. In a single, fluid motion, Applejack got up from the chair and opened the curtains. Glare blinded Rainbow. A second later the key jostled in the door handle, and by the time her eyes adjusted, she saw Applejack stick the spare key into a desk drawer and close it. “Appreciate you returning the key,” she said, and Rainbow lost the nerve to ask for it back in an instant. “You pretending to be a mummy? Hate to tell you this, but you missed some spots.” Rainbow patted her bandages. “Fluttershy patched me up after last night.” “Decent thing of her to do.” “Definitely, she’s awesome. That reminds me…” Rainbow pulled out a wooden box from her saddlebags and showed it to Applejack. “She said you liked this game called laurys, so I stopped by the antique shop and got the best-looking set they had. Check it out: the board’s made of rosewood and the pieces are all artisan-carved marble.” “Not bad,” Applejack said. She ran a hoof over the box’s glossy panels. “I doubt that’s authentic Dalbergia rosewood, but it’s a fine imitation. What d’you want for it?” “No, no, it’s a gift.” Rainbow pressed the box against Applejack’s chest. “Aw, you’re sweeter than a cherry.” Applejack snatched the box from her and returned to the recliner. She opened the set and began to pull out the pieces. “Not bad at all. Didn’t reckon you’d want anything to do with laurys after that familiar last night.” “Oh, yeah,” Rainbow said as recognition clicked, “those big statutes we fought kind of looked like those white pieces. I wasn’t really thinking about that much.” Applejack chuckled. “Bless your heart.” She positioned the pieces on the board in silence. Rainbow noticed, for the first time, a haze swirling around Applejack’s black necklace. “Hey, is everything okay with your necklace?” “Finer than frog hair.” “Really?” Rainbow stepped closer. Heat radiated from Applejack’s necklace. “It kind of doesn’t seem that way.” Applejack looked up, her jaw ajar. “Tell you what, I’ll give you the real story about this necklace,” she said as she nodded to the board, “if you play a game with me.” “I don’t know how to play.” “C’mon, I’ll teach you. I’ll even let you win your first game.” Rainbow got the basics down quickly, and Applejack posed some tactics problems to test her. White’s problems were about using her mezzmer, lancers, and vanguards to locate a medusite in a certain number of moves; as black, she tried to capture a particular piece without giving away her medusites’ locations. White’s problems reminded her of the fun parts of her job troubleshooting cloud machines at the Weather Service, so for their first match, she chose to play as that color. The match pushed her to her limits, even with Applejack’s promise of letting her win. Applejack trapped her mezzmer in a complex web of mirrors early on, and for the rest of the game snatched her vanguards and one of her lancers without warning. Rainbow gave as good as she got, though, managing to break all but one of Applejack’s medusites and a good number of her mirrors. With victory in sight, she kept moving her remaining lancer out of harm’s way and towards its final goal. In her excitement, Rainbow almost forgot Applejack’s half of the bargain. “So, you were going to tell me the ‘real story’ about your necklace.” She slid her lancer against the veil. “Also, do I win now?” “Nope,” Applejack said, “but don’t you worry. I’ve got an inkling that it’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” She moved a mirror next to Rainbow’s lancer and then dropped the veil, revealing she’d trapped Rainbow’s last piece. “And nope.” “You said you’d tell me what’s going on!” Applejack smirked. “Can’t believe everything you hear these days.” “Why would you lie about that?” “Well, you see…” Applejack stopped and didn’t do anything for a second. The smirk dropped first, followed by her gaze. She glanced up again, looking past Rainbow with pursed lips before she clicked her tongue. “Why don’t you come on back tomorrow?” she said. “I’ll make it right.” “It’s her necklace,” Rainbow said. “Something’s wrong with it.” Fluttershy yawned as she brought out the salad she’d prepared for dinner. Rainbow had returned from visiting Applejack much later than expected, but the greens weren’t too wilted. “She knows, too, and she said was it was going to get fixed by tomorrow, but she didn’t say how.” Rainbow gulped down a mouthful of salad. “This is really good, by the way.” “Thank you.” Fluttershy started on her plate with a fork. “Maybe Kyubey could help her?” “If he’s not snitching on us to some nutjob.” Rainbow scooped up another mouthful of salad. “You know, he thought The Adventure Book picks up psychic energy like a necklace.” “Oh.” Fluttershy pushed bits of food around her plate. She could tell how much all this excited Rainbow, and how hard it’d be for her to give it all up. “And Applejack said they’d passed copies out in Canterlot last winter. Plus, when that familiar snuck up on us at Rarity’s place, I got her copy, and the book tried to steer us away from it.” Rainbow swallowed finally. “Whoever made that book knows about witches and necklaces. Maybe they could fix Applejack’s necklace, too.” “That’d be…nice.” “Do you still have your book? I think they came with a letter.” Fluttershy wasn’t hungry anymore. After she fetched her copy of The Adventure Book from the other side of the room, she slid her plate across to Rainbow. “You can have the rest, if you want.” “Horse apples!” Rainbow’s wide eyes locked on the open book. “These books are from the library at that Star Swirl school. Applejack tracked a witch and found the blue feather there. This can’t be a coincidence, can it?” “It is a big school.” “How do we find this ‘Twilight Sparkle, Master of the Library?’” Fluttershy remembered the letter to Sunset she still hadn’t written. “I could ask Sunset Shimmer.” “Who’s that?” “Do you remember the pen pals I had when we were in Cloudsdale? One of them became a department master at Star Swirl’s, and a few weeks ago she invited me to visit—” She found herself hoisted in the air on Rainbow’s forelegs. “This is so awesome!” Rainbow swung her around the room like a dancing partner. “You can go to Canterlot, talk to this Sunburn Shiver—” “Sunset Shimmer.” “—get to Twilight Sparkle, find out what they know about witches, and figure out how to fix Applejack’s necklace!” “I can’t go.” Rainbow froze. “She wanted to talk to me about working at the zoo.” Fluttershy dislodged herself from Rainbow. “I’d be spending all of my time around wild animals. I’ve never done anything like that.” “You don’t have to actually take the job. Go there, talk to her, and then make up some reason why you can’t take the job after.” “That’s lying, though.” Rainbow shrugged. “It’s not a real lie. It’s like a micro-fib, and we have to do it to help Applejack. For all we know, her necklace is killing her.” Fluttershy knew she should say no. She’d have to lie to Sunset, trick her into talking about Star Swirl’s, waste her time, and take advantage of her train tickets. All the while, Rainbow’s obsession for witch hunting would grow even more. But another pony was in danger. That mattered to Rainbow, so she said, “I will.” Every day that week, Rainbow visited Applejack to quietly play laurys, and every day, Applejack’s necklace was black and feverish. Smaller changes occurred, though. Her newspapers vanished on the third day, and on the fourth, she talked about hunting. “Missing ponies, more often than not, get that way because of witches,” she said. “News stories about disappearances can give you a hint or two about tracking down a witch.” “Why don’t you show me?” Rainbow asked. “Later.” The fifth day, Applejack set the board up so that Rainbow had to play black. The change threw her off; she lost track of her pieces, missed chances to attack, and spoiled her own traps. Her hoof once wavered over a medusite, and Applejack smashed it three moves later. Then, after Rainbow had spent ten minutes thinking through her next move, Applejack spoke. “Tell me about Rarity,” she said nonchalantly. “Your general impression of the mare is all.” “She was fine,” Rainbow grumbled. “What I mean is…” She rubbed her chin. “That’s to say…” “Just ask Fluttershy,” Rainbow said, trying to focus on the board. “She spent more time with Rarity than I did.” “She wouldn’t want to talk to me, would she?” Rainbow pulled her attention from the game. Checkerboard patterns swam in her eyes. “Yeah, she’d be fine with it. She’s in Canterlot for the next few days, but I’ll bring her over here when she gets back.” “That’d be swell.” Applejack sank into her chair and threw her forelegs behind her head. She looked ready for a nap. The sight peeved Rainbow. She’d been busting her tail all week to figure out the problem with Applejack’s necklace, and Fluttershy had gone all the way to Canterlot to help. Meanwhile, Applejack chilled on her haunches, holding onto who-knows-what kinds of secrets. “Don’t you want to know why she’s in Canterlot?” Rainbow asked. “Didn’t think it was any of my business.” “Actually, it’s totally your business. You know how The Adventure Book kind of works like a necklace? We found they’re made in Canterlot, so Flutters is on a little recon mission.” Rainbow copied Applejack’s relaxed pose. “If she finds out what’s wrong with your necklace, then we can fix it.” Applejack tumbled forward. “Don’t you get her wrapped up in all this.” “You’re not exactly leaving us a lot of options.” Applejack sighed and shook her head. “All it needs is a Grief Seed.” “Why didn’t you say so?” Rainbow basked in the win while Applejack pulled away. “I’ll get you a Grief Seed. Consider it as good as done.” “Fine, but leave Fluttershy out of all this, you hear me? Don’t even bring her around these parts.” “Yeah, yeah.” Rainbow made her move on the board, which Applejack countered in a heartbeat. She played out the game and lost without paying much attention to it. Instead, she imagined Fluttershy coming back to Ponyville with the secret to The Adventure Book. Sunset’s thoughtfulness began at the train station, where a suit-clad taxi driver met Fluttershy and took her to a downtown hotel. A posh corner room overlooking one of Canterlot’s parks awaited Fluttershy, as did a message confirming her appointment with Sunset for lunch the next day. Fluttershy resolved to show her gratitude by treating the trip as a serious job interview, despite her ulterior motives, and toured the zoo early the next morning to have something to discuss with Sunset. The exhibits were nice, and the animals seemed eager to come out as she passed by, although many seemed bored. She couldn’t say what gave her that impression. At the wolves’ exhibit, she stopped to watch a zookeeper’s demonstration of pack behavior. She had read a book about pack animal communications years ago, so she focused on the zookeeper’s actions around the wolves; he swished his tail to show playfulness, puffed out his chest to assert dominance, lowered his voice when a wolf grew too nippy, and avoided the space around peaceful wolves. Watching his flawless mimicry of the wolves’ body language drove home Fluttershy’s selfishness. Here were a group of ponies who had trained for years, honed their skills, and performed important work day after day, while Fluttershy abused their hospitality pretending to be interested in working for them. By the time Sunset arrived for their lunch, Fluttershy knew exactly what she had to do. “I’m sorry, I can’t take the offer. I shouldn’t have wasted your time or money like this. I should go.” She started to shift out of her seat when Sunset’s hoof caught her. “Okay, but you are here now, and I’m pretty hungry, so maybe we should get some appetizers and chat.” Fluttershy resettled in her seat. “I did have a few questions, if you’re not too busy.” “Being a department Master keeps me pretty busy, but I’ve got lunch blocked off today. What do you want to know?” Rainbow’s questions about witches and Twilight Sparkle bubbled to the top of Fluttershy’s mind, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to ask one of the brightest minds in psychology just one little question. “Well,” Fluttershy said, “in your book on social organization, you didn’t spend a lot of time on Blitz Hider’s balance theory, and I was wondering…” Fluttershy had never had a conversation like the one she had with Sunset. Every sentence from Sunset taught her something new, and every idea Fluttershy offered was another chance to earn Sunset’s admiration. She lost track of the time until Sunset glanced at a clock tower with a gasp. “I really have to get to my thaumaturgic neurology class. They’ll vanish if I’m more than ten minutes late.” Sunset rose from her seat. “It was great to meet you, though. I had no idea you’d become such an expert.” “Are you sure you’re not mad about the zoo internship?” Fluttershy asked. Sunset waved with a foreleg. “You’d have been bored to tears. That internship’s designed for an undergrad, maybe an advanced third-year. It’s way beneath you.” Fluttershy’s shoulders and ears slouched in shame. “Are you okay?” Sunset asked. “I never graduated college,” Fluttershy said in a whisper. “But everything we talked about…was that all self-taught?” Fluttershy nodded. One of her bangs fell in front of her eyes, and she let it stay there. “I may have an idea,” Sunset said. “Why don’t you come with me? You can see what it’s like for a few days.” “What what’s like?” “Being a Star Swirl’s student.” They were in a classroom a few minutes later where Sunset and a dozen young unicorns debated around a U-shaped table while Fluttershy listened, enthralled. Afterward, Sunset showed her around the Cognition Department and introduced her to a few of the professors. That evening, they recapped the day over sandwiches in Sunset’s office. “What got you into psychology in the first place?” Sunset asked. “I guess it really goes back to my dreams,” Fluttershy said. She explained how her dreams of galloping through dungeons and fleeing monsters led her to read about interpreting dreams, and eventually to psychology. “The thing is, I still don’t know what they mean. The monsters probably come from ponies picking on me, but the first book I read said the cave symbolizes…loving another pony. That way.” “I know the book you’re talking about. It was written back when they thought everything had to do with repressed…ah, desires.” Sunset levitated a thin volume off of a shelf. “Why don’t you read this? It’s a report from a somnology symposium a few years ago and has some articles about modern dream theory. Let me know what you think tomorrow.” Fluttershy left soon after and flew back to her hotel, enjoying the experience of being the only pegasus in the air. In her room, she read through every article about dreams. One, titled “Dreaming as a mechanism to amplify memory associations,” described a number of case studies to illustrate its theory. Everything made sense once she read the case study for “Patient W.” Patient W (earth stal.) reported non-clinical aversion to snakes he encountered in a neighboring forest. He employed knitting as a coping habit for the resultant anxiety. However, after encountering a stray snake hiding in his yarn basket, his aversion progressed to ophidiophobia and he ceased knitting. Following this incident, W reported dreaming of knitting needles and yarn coming alive and biting him like a snake. This result is consistent with our theory. W’s dreams dampened the existing positive association (knitting as a coping mechanism) and reinforced a novel negative association (knitting and snakes). Patients in similar scenarios, where an external stressor compromises an established coping mechanism to that stressor, are likely to dream of their coping mechanism actively threatening them. After searching for as long as she could remember, Fluttershy had found the answer to her dreams. In Cloudsdale she had sought refuge from her bullies almost every morning in a cloud cave carved into the eastern side of the city. Even in rare times of serenity, she had enjoyed watching the sunrise from inside its cozy walls. At least, she had until the day her bullies found it and covered its walls in guano. Modern science explained the rest. Foal-age bullies lurking in the bastion of her cave were perverted into relentless monsters hunting her through treacherous dungeons. She slept well that night. The next morning she arrived early to discuss the articles with Sunset, unprepared for the shock that awaited her. “I was wondering if you’d like to study psychology at Star Swirl’s as my apprentice.” She sat speechless as Sunset explained the apprentice system and the logistics of the seven-year program it’d entail. “This is all so sudden,” she said at last. “I’m not sure I’d fit in.” “Fluttershy, you’ve got incredible talent. The concepts we talked about yesterday, albeit a little dated, are tough for most of my students to grasp, and you taught it all to yourself. I’d be really lucky to have you here.” “I don’t know what to say.” “Honestly, it’d be little weird if you did. It’s a huge decision, so take some time to think about it. There’s no real deadline since I basically run this department, but try and get back to me in a week. Anyways, what do you want to do for the rest of your visit?” For the next two days, Fluttershy buzzed through a whirlwind of classes, guest lectures, labs, demonstrations, and debates. Moments came when Rainbow’s questions returned to her, but those moments passed as Fluttershy told herself she’d come across as ungrateful, or Sunset was too busy to bother, or the apprenticeship offer would vanish if she got too nosy. By her final day at Star Swirl’s, between her jam-packed schedule and her growing excitement, Fluttershy found she had almost no time to worry about disappointing Rainbow. When it was time for her to go that night, Sunset walked with her to the train station. “Too bad you couldn’t visit during the school year,” Sunset said on the way. “I’d really like you to meet the other Masters, but Sunburst is digging up the Crystal Empire again, Starlight is begging the senate for more funding, Moon Dancer’s been on sabbatical all year, Twilight is—” “It’s fine,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sure I can meet them all next time.” She slept on an overnight train from Canterlot. When it arrived in Ponyville, she had to gallop to the Air Guard Reserve training field and reached it just as Thunderlane began his morning orders. “Guess who just got assigned to an activation exercise? You guys!” A chorus of groans surrounded Fluttershy. “Ooh, you’re really going to hate me after you hear this,” Thunderlane continued with a grin. “In six weeks, the actual Air Guard is coming down to test us on night navigation, foul weather aerobatics, and a live fire bombing run. Our munitions arrived last night, and since Dash is grounded with a bum wing, I’ve got her in the shack inspecting them. Blossomforth, Star Hunter, how about you keep her company today? Derpy, you’re with me on the opposite side of the field until further notice. Everypony else, here are your assignments…” Fluttershy wound up in squall maneuvers first. Even the wind wrenching her around the sky and the rain soaking her mane did nothing to dampen her elation. At her first break, she went to the bomb shack and asked to talk to Rainbow. She could barely keep her hooves on the ground as she waited. There was so much to tell that it practically burst from her as she recalled it. The offer from Sunset, the immersion in academic life, the epiphany about her dreams. The trip had only been a few days, but it would change her life forever. Rainbow emerged from the shack in grease-stained coveralls. She’d buttoned up to the top button, but shiny flecks of her necklace poked out from her collar. “Hey, Flutters! What’d you find out about The Adventure Book?” Fluttershy’s hooves landed on the ground. “Nothing.” She waited for Rainbow’s next question. “Nothing? Didn’t you meet Sunbeam Singer?” “Sunset Shimmer was very busy,” she said. It wasn’t a lie, only a micro-fib. Rainbow would have understood. “What about the zoo thing?” Of course. If Fluttershy accepted the offer to study at Star Swirl’s, if she even imagined going back to Canterlot, Rainbow would badger her until she turned into a spy. Her obsession for witch hunting would consume Fluttershy’s life, too. “The internship is going to somepony else,” she said. “Sorry to hear that.” Rainbow scuffed at the ground. “Hey, after practice…” “My break’s over. I should go.” Fluttershy turned around. She could feel tears welling up, but couldn’t let Rainbow see and break the illusion of her failure. Rainbow started to say something else, but Fluttershy didn’t hear it as she launched back into the squall. Rainbow had it all figured out. The Adventure Book obviously picked up on labyrinths and steered readers away from them, but her real insight came when she remembered the two times she’d opened it near a labyrinth. When she’d shown it off to Fluttershy and Rarity at the town center, and when she and Applejack fought a familiar at Rarity’s mansion, the book had said the exact same thing: “There’s nothing of interest here…” It made perfect sense. The book wouldn’t say labyrinths were scary or dangerous because that’d make adventurous foals want to get closer. Instead, it’d say things around the labyrinth were boring and point towards something exciting far away. Knowing the book’s trick meant she could find labyrinths by finding places where the book said there was nothing of interest. That meant she could find a witch and get a Grief Seed for Applejack. There was one problem. Eagles skirl high above… The ground beneath you rumbles menacingly… A sulfurous odor emanates from a nearby crevice… Suddenly, pirates leap from the shadows… Rainbow rolled her eyes and snapped shut Fluttershy’s copy of The Adventure Book. She’d wandered Ponyville on hoof the past few nights, reading the book by moonlight, without it once hinting at a labyrinth. Dejected, she sat and tried to come up with a new plan. The first few nights, she’d made a circuit going through downtown Ponyville, the Air Guard Reserve training field, and the path to Sweet Apple Acres. Last night, she’d skipped downtown to try the school and hospital instead. She’d probably be skulking around other ponies’ homes before long. An idea struck her: Rarity’s mansion. Her and Applejack’s familiar snuck up on them there. Why couldn’t a witch be next? Rainbow hopped up and trotted that way. She smelled ash on the wind way before the mansion’s ruins came into view. Blackened wooden beams leaned against stonework broken-up facade washed white by the Weather Service’s efforts to put out the fire. Inky muck pooled on the lower levels of the ground and at the mouths of gutter spouts. Rainbow approached the front entry, where stones in the path had cracked from the heat, where the scorch-covered landing sagged, and where Fluttershy sat looking into the desolation. “Couldn’t sleep?” Rainbow asked. Fluttershy’s head rocked to look at her. “What are you doing here?” She showed Fluttershy the book. “Some real witch hunting. I figured out that The Adventure Book tells you there’s nothing interesting happening when you’re near a labyrinth, so it’s a good way to find witches. Wanna see?” She opened the book. “Nothing here but us two and a ‘frenzied colony of blood-sucking bats,’ so I guess we’re safe.” “Can we talk about you being a witch hunter?” “Sure. What do you want to know?” Rainbow’s necklace gleamed in the moonlight. She found herself tracing the thin metal ribbon around her lightning-shaped gemstone. Fluttershy’s hoof floated up to Rainbow’s necklace, coming to a stop on the gem and blocking Rainbow’s circuit. “Could I have convinced you not to make a wish?” Rainbow shook her head. “You know, you talked me out of doing some pretty featherbrained things, but a hundred times out of a hundred, I’d make that wish again. I bet you can’t even guess what I wished for.” “I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said. She pulled away from Rainbow’s necklace. “What was your wish?” “Back when we were in Cloudsdale, I had this drive to be awesome. Some of it came from fighting off your bullies, but a lot of it was for me. Then one day, and I don’t know when or why it began, this empty feeling started eating all the drive. I guess I wanted something to fill that back up, until Kyubey helped me figure out I could just wish it away.” She tried to catch Fluttershy’s eye. “Now I’m doing all sorts of awesome stuff! I pulled Applejack out of this ginormous fireball, and…” She stopped. She’d run out of achievements already. Sure, she’d rescued Applejack from the fire, but she couldn’t find a Grief Seed or get Applejack of the room. There were days Applejack barely said a word to her. “Maybe I should have told you about my feelings,” Rainbow said. “You could have fixed me that way.” “Sometimes talking isn’t enough,” Fluttershy said, her head swaying, “but there are other treatments. Besides Kyubey.” “Maybe that’s true for other ponies, but Flutters, the way you talk is magic. Applejack let us go because of what you said, and she was still talking about you when I came back. She’s totally different because of you.” “Really?” Something like a smile peeked out from Fluttershy’s bangs. “Yeah, really! Maybe that’s the silver lining in you not getting that job in Canterlot.” Fluttershy’s smile vanished. “Sorry,” Rainbow said, kicking herself. “All I meant was, this way you can stick around and help her. She’s changed, but she needs help still.” “I didn’t tell you everything about Canterlot,” Fluttershy said. “I met Sunset and she offered me an apprenticeship at Star Swirl’s. I could study psychology with her, as her student, and I’d be there for years. I could become a psychiatrist, learn to run a hospital, anything I want.” Her eyes locked on Rainbow’s. “But I won’t. Not if you try to turn me into a spy.” “What do you mean?” Rainbow demanded. She sprang to all fours with her wings outstretched. Pink mane swung between them, like Fluttershy needed a shield. “You’d badger me until I broke down and found out what I could about witches and The Adventure Book. I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to say no forever.” “Can you blame me? I’m doing everything I can to save Applejack here! Why aren’t you?” Fluttershy sketched a flowery shape in the ash. “Did I ever tell you what I wanted to do with Rarity’s home?” “No.” “I wanted to build a place,” she said, her hoof still moving through ash, “where ponies could feel safe…” Fluttershy had thought of everything: which rooms patients could board in, where the doctors’ offices would be, how the garden would be re-landscaped for exercise groups, even making the kitchen bigger to feed fifty ponies at a time. She explained every bit of it to Rainbow. “After the fire, I kept planning,” Fluttershy said. “It’d have to be built from scratch, so it’d take years, but it’ll take me years of studying to help.” She stopped scribbling in the dust. “Maybe I should let that go, though.” Rainbow looked into the ruins of the mansion, tried to imagine it through Fluttershy’s, and got only a flimsy copy of her vision. The important parts came through, though. She imagined sick ponies like Applejack, dragging their problems behind them because that was what they’d all done their whole lives, and finding the refuge that Fluttershy had built. They’d talk through their problems, and as they did, they’d take off one burden after another, until they left well. She could imagine those ponies by the hundreds. “Tell you what. If you go to Star Swirl’s,” she said, “I promise to never ask you about witches or The Adventure Book while you’re there. I’ve got one condition, though.” Fluttershy drew a breath. “What is it?” “Write me sometimes, okay?” Then the hug she gave Fluttershy was big enough to last for years, because she knew it just might have to. Applejack had the dream again. She didn’t mind, though. She liked it. Apple Bloom, Big Mac, Granny Smith, and she were gathered around the dining table like she’d never left. Apple Bloom had grown so tall over the years, glory be, and Big Mac had filled out mightily. Even the nigh-immutable Granny Smith looked a touch more wizened. Her dream wasn’t all sweet. For one thing, Ma and Pa weren’t there, although that didn’t seem to bother anypony. For another, the four of them had gathered around the table because Applejack had bad news for them: she was leaving. She didn’t think she’d be back, but it was for the best. The Apples weren’t much for tears, and her family took their turns hugging her instead. She wrapped her forelegs around each of them, her strapping muscles bulging under taut skin when she pulled them close. Apple Bloom got to her last, and when they let go, Applejack took her hat—in her dreams, she wore a hat like Pa’s—and she put it on Apple Bloom’s head. It fit perfectly. Something about that always struck her as the right time to wake up. She flicked on a light and stretched to greet the aching muscles, swollen joints, and flab that rode along with her. Did her hocks always crackle like that? Probably not, but no telling how long ago that’d started. She never was good about noticing the little things about herself: the first half-truth she told, the first bargain she’d dropped, the first time she’d let her mean streak get the best of her. Somehow, each time she bent one of her scruples, it got a little more pliant for the next time. Then came the day she sat across from the pony who’d saved her life, made sure she had a roof and bed, and brought her the most gorgeous laurys set she’d ever seen. And Applejack had been one heartbeat away from swindling her. Like a stiff joint cracking, Applejack finally noticed. She’d thought on it a while the first day, after Sparky had left, and by the second day she’d had a good idea it had something to do with her line of work. Spending all that time around witches, and the ways they got into her head, wasn’t doing her a lick of good. That led her thoughts to the Grief Seeds, the little pieces of witches she’d shoved right into her chest for years. All of a sudden, it wasn’t a mystery where everything that used to be good about her ran off to. Somepony had slid an envelope under the door while she’d been sleeping. It only had her name written on it, and a plain wax seal on its back that popped open easy enough. Come to Acherontia tonight at sundown. Enter the second level via the stairs. Dinner will be served. Rainbow Dash may accompany you, if you choose. I possess the means to cure you. It got her attention, at least. The promise of a cure sounded too good to be true, but it was worth a gamble. She looked up Acherontia in the hotel’s local attractions guide. We could wax poetic about this restaurant’s unique, beehive-evoking architecture, but the real star is its selective honey-based haute cuisine fit for a queen. Acherontia has more than earned the buzz surrounding it, even if its prices sting a little. At the very least, it was a free dinner. Applejack was already at the door by the time Sparky came around. “Feel up for a trot?” Sparky looked at her like she’d talked in Old Ponish. “You mean outside?” “Sure do,” she said as she put the letter in Sparky’s hooves. They arrived at the restaurant about twenty minutes later. Acherontia looked less like a beehive and more like one of Granny Smith’s wicker baskets turned upside down, with wooden planks woven through whiteheart arches to make a big hut with light ebbing out of the holes in the weave. Stairs tucked into the side led up to a smaller, unlit entrance on the second floor. “What’s our plan?” Sparky asked. “Head on in, load up on the grub, give a listen, and if everything goes pear-shaped, talk our way out.” “Talk our way out?” “Didn’t really feel like starting another fire tonight.” Sparky rubbed her forelegs together. “Fluttershy should be here. She’s better at talking.” “Nah, you don’t want that. Best thing that mare can do for herself is stay clear of witches. Besides—” she shot a quick jab to Sparky, “—you’re not too bad at the whole talking thing yourself.” That got a half-grin out of Sparky. There was something else in that half-grin, some story Applejack hadn’t been privy to, but she couldn’t parse it. They climbed the stairs and entered a cozy dining room with a banquet table on one side and an easel on the other. In the middle, levitating a lit candle, stood the third pony. The stranger was the funniest-looking pony Applejack had ever laid eyes on. The unicorn had apples in their cheeks and spindly legs like Granny Smith, but stood as tall as Big Mac and sported a beard like a billy goat. A coat the color of cherry blossoms and a mane as black as the bottom of a cellar pit, except for one streak of fiery red, were wrapped up in a raggedy cloak and pointy hat. Their eyes, like fireworks frozen into two marbles stuck in their head, left Applejack dumbfounded. “Howdy!” Applejack stuck a front hoof out. “You must have some idea of who I am, but…” “In exacting detail,” the stranger said. They swung their foreleg at the serving table. “I beseech patience while I complete this alcove’s preparation. Please, partake.” “Don’t mind if I do,” Applejack said. “And your name was…?” “My exclusive proviso is that no inquiries be posed during the extent of our congregation. In any event, you will find such an interrogation superfluous.” A bold proposition paid for in five-bit words, but she’d play along while the stranger picked up the tab for dinner. Didn’t mean she couldn’t stir up some trouble, though. “You gotta help me come up with a nickname for our host,” she whispered a little too loud, on purpose, to Sparky. “I’m thinking…‘Blush-hooves Baffler.’” Sparky gave her that talking-in-Old-Ponish look again. She and Sparky loaded up their plates while the stranger reordered some slides. As soon as they took their seats, the stranger began. “Within days, Ponyville will be deluged with witches and familiars, the extent of which will be unlike anything it has experienced before.” How’d they know that? Rules be damned, Applejack opened her mouth to ask. “I make this determination,” the stranger droned on as they flipped over the first slide, “based on the pattern of disappearances reported to Ponyville’s Civil Guard, as analyzed by a system of my own provenance.” Applejack stood down. The stranger went for a good ten minutes, spouting off each of the witches and familiars they’d found and how to defeat them. The lecture pivoted to the three of them teaming up. “Upon the conclusion of our endeavor, which I anticipate shall occur before the autumnal equinox, we will have rid Ponyville of these malevolent influences for the foreseeable future.” The stranger took a second off from lecturing, and Applejack shot a glance Sparky’s way. She hung on to the stranger’s every word. Of course she would; the stranger offered her everything she wanted: a chance to grab her sliver of history to do something good for a pony or two. What Applejack hadn’t heard yet was anything about her cure. The stranger breathed deep and said, “Grief Seeds are of no utility to me, so you may divide what we collect.” “Why would we want that?” Applejack snapped. “The question is not of your wants, but of necessities.” The stranger got a nasty look, their eyes and lips getting tugged into sharp angles. “Your necklaces evince signs of extensive dilapidation, particularly yours, A.J. A hunter’s necklace is inexorably linked to her body, and once enervated, its toxicity will annihilate the hunter. Without a Grief Seed to replenish your necklace’s energy, you will die within days.” So, the promised cure was more Grief Seeds. “Pass.” She walked into the night as calm as she’d ever been, leaving the stranger yammering on about “that irrational niddering.” There was a kind of comfort in knowing the inevitable. Grief Seeds might have taken almost all her decency, but Applejack planned to hold tight to the little that remained. Now it sounded like she wouldn’t have to hold on for too long. Sparky’s voice came from above. “Give me a sec.” Hoof steps clip-clopped down the stairs behind Applejack. “Go on, Sparky,” she called out behind her, “go save Ponyville with Enigma Shadowmane up there. Your slice of history is waiting on you.” “Yeah, that’s not how this works. If you walk, I do too.” Applejack sucked down humid air. “You wouldn’t be so raring to go it if you knew the dark alleys I’d lead you down.” “I’m not scared of dark alleys. If something jumped us, we’d kick its flank and send it packing, no sweat.” Applejack had one nerve left, and Sparky sure enjoyed jumping on it. She marched back up the stairs and got in Sparky’s face. “Do you want to know what I thought of you, first time you showed up at the hotel with that laurys board under your wing?” “I don’t know. Maybe, ’shucks howdy, this here’s the pegasus who saved my tail, what a swell lass.’” “‘Easy mark,’” Applejack said. “Somepony I could scam into getting me what I wanted and leave behind when she got inconvenient. Still feel like meeting me in a dark alley?” “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to say all that out loud. That’s gotta be the first rule of scamming somepony.” There went her last nerve. “I didn’t used to be like this!” she said, her legs shaking. “I used to be grateful and humble, and strong, too. Good heavens, was I strong. Now look at me. All I’ve got left is this rotten flab. That, and a pinch of shame.” “I don’t know what you went through in Canterlot,” Sparky said, “and maybe you had to do some rotten stuff there to get by, but that doesn’t mean you’re rotten. Even if you’ve kept doing that stuff, you can turn it around starting tonight. All you need is one chance to do something good.” “Consarn it, Canterlot wasn’t the problem, it was the Grief Seeds this thing keeps me hooked on!” She jangled her necklace. “I should have known shoving pieces of those witches’ hearts would leech everything decent out of me. It’s what happened to Rarity too, and in case you’ve got trouble drawing a line through us two points, it’s what’ll happen to you. Understand?” “Actually,” Sparky said, “that doesn’t make any sense.” “Featherbrain.” “No, really, hear me out on this. Rarity wasn’t mean. She was actually one of the most selfless ponies I know. She’d save me and Fluttershy from labyrinths, give us stuff all the time, look out for us, you name it. Plus, she didn’t look, you know…” She traced an arc of nonexistent flab around her foreleg. “So, I don’t think those Grief Seeds changed you at all. If you changed after moving to Canterlot, that’s on you. But that also means it’s on you to change now that you’re back in Ponyville.” “Ponies don’t change,” Applejack muttered. “Not for the better.” Sparky’s half-grin came back, the one telling a story that Applejack couldn’t parse. “Did I tell you about this grouch I knew? She was a real nasty pegasus. She’d lose her temper with her best friend all the time, try to badger ponies into doing things they didn’t want to do, and mope around her house when she didn’t get her way. Just last week, she was about to black out on cider after another fight, but you better believe she’s changed since then. Wanna know what she’s doing now?” “What’s that?” “Getting ready to be awesome,” Sparky said as her hoof slid around Applejack’s foreleg and refused to let go, “with anypony who wants to be awesome with me.” CENSORS RANSACK NEWSROOM Trio wreak havoc, confront editor in chief Early this morning, three censors forced their way into this paper’s newsroom in an attempt to halt printing operations and distribution of today’s issue to readers. Rainbow Dash, a censor wielding a lightning-producing device, was visibly gleeful as she vandalized desks and typewriters near the entrance. Witnesses reported that she exclaimed, “Let’s show them who’s the boss!” at the start of the attack. Not all censors were as jubilant amidst the rampage. Applejack, equipped with spools of rope, expressed reluctance, saying Rainbow had “talked me into” participating in the raid. A third censor chose to remain anonymous. Their initial efforts were stymied when a group of photographers ambushed the group and captured Applejack’s necklace. As the photographers attempted the same feat on the stranger, Rainbow intervened, losing her own necklace instead. During this melee, the stranger made a statement unfit to be reproduced in a family paper. Without the protection of their necklaces, or access to their weapons, Rainbow and Applejack succumbed to the pressures of modern journalism. While the stranger chased after the surviving photographers, the other two censors shrank to the size of letters on a page and fell into the newsroom’s recently-installed “hot metal” typesetting system. The new system, a mechanical marvel which produces printing plates using brass molds and molten lead, subjected the two little ponies to a sweltering, clangorous ordeal. They dodged sheets of metal the size of a house wall falling from above, while slipping down a slick incline and onto a line of of prepared type. Safety proved elusive, as an assembly shuttled them into the casting mechanism, from which a gas-heated pot spat globs of molten lead as hot as the interior of a pizza oven. Moments before the lead poured over them, Rainbow seized Applejack and leapt off in an attempt to glide. With her wing injured, she succeeded only in a perilous corkscrew descent onto the cooled printing plates accumulating at the machine’s base. Once the duo landed, their plates whisked to the printing press to be prepared with ink. While Applejack escaped with only a spray of ink, the sticky substance doused Rainbow, gluing her to the plate. Applejack hurried towards a pneumatic tube, already loaded with a canister holding a message for the photography department, leaving a trail of tiny black hoof prints behind her. Then the printing press whirred to life. Seeing Rainbow incapable of escaping the massive paper cassette that rolled towards her, Applejack left the safety of the pneumatic canister and returned to the press. Unable to operate its controls, Applejack resorted to bucking the thin metal rails guiding the paper cassette. Her efforts appeared futile until, with her last kick, the rail snapped, knocking the cassette off center and into the press wall. Alarms blared as the machine ground to a halt. The two dragged themselves from under the huge press, after which Rainbow expressed regret for “talking you into this.” “Nah, I had a real hoot with this,” Applejack replied. “Might even try it again, if we get the chance.” The two then speculated on what foe the press’ alarm might summon. * * * * * A Message to our Readers from the Editor in Chief The responsibilities of an editor in chief are as varied as the articles that run across my desk every day. Two, though, are principal among them: the objective presentation of the truth, and the efficient distribution of the newspaper itself. Therefore, the days these two responsibilities conflict prove to be the most challenging. When I answered the klaxon sounding from our printing press, I was aghast to find censors had disabled it, even after our courageous photojournalists confiscated their necklaces. To repair the press by conventional means would cost tens of thousands of bits and delay publication for weeks. This outcome is beyond unacceptable. There is available to me one power to undo this wanton violence and restore our press: retraction. Through this act, the attackers and their consequent devastation shall be struck from history. In this, the red pencil is mightier than any censor’s sinister magic. Retraction of an article, an act of self-censorship, is not a choice I undertake lightly. Only in this, the most extreme case of saving this paper from destruction, can I justify this compromise of our profession’s core value: telling it like it is. Yet even as I prepare the fatal red stroke, the stranger bursts in carrying a pneumatic tube message with tiny horseshoe prints and the photographs of the other censors’ necklaces. The photographs fly to the press and, seconds later, all three censors stand before me, their powers fully restored. Despite my best efforts, this will be the paper’s final issue. However, as I cease publication under an onslaught of rope and lightning, I am reminded that news is, to quote one great newspony, the “first rough draft of history.”  In this respect, every word of every column is its own contribution to eternity. Thus, even as we face our end, we are raised above the tedium of, as one of the censors said while smashing open my black heart with her rope, “taking this whole thing one day at a time.”