//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: A Bug on a Stick 
// by Orbiting Kettle 
//------------------------------//

With a grunt, Copper Horn put the wooden panels down and looked to the window. The moon shone on the farm, covering piles of wood, carts and plows in a silvery light. The smell of wet earth and grass whiffed through the opening, and for a brief, precious moment everything seemed at peace.

The crack and giggles broke that illusion, and the chittering set the debris on fire.

"No, Slimey, you have to eat what's on the spoon, not the spoon."

She turned around and looked at the two fillies and Meadowsweet sitting at one corner of the table, with the creature laying on the surface and, apparently, destroying the wooden cutlery. The new form writhed and wiggled, and she could see that there was something under the skin, something pushing against it. "I don't like it."

"And what would you prefer to do?" Millet yawned. Bedmane didn't even start to cover what sat on his head. Burning ruins came closer, though there was less smoke and screaming involved. "Would you have liked it more if little Celestia had taken it again somewhere in the forest and then kept it there in secret?"

"I am sure she would have done exactly that if we hadn't been fast enough." She passed a hand over her head. "And, from her point of view, I even understand why. But still, that thing is dangerous, I can feel it."

"Garvino is pretty dangerous too. And yourself, well, I wouldn't like to start a brawl with you, no offense."

"That is different, and you know it." Copper Horn snorted.

"Yeah, right." He laid his head on the table. "My sweetheart seems to like her, though. And the fillies are happy, which is a pretty big thing for Slimey."

"The little ones would be happy too if they could eat only sweets for a month, and yet we don't let them." She saw the thing open its maw wide again as Meadowsweet put a slice of apple forward.

Copper Horn closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Harmony springs from the inside, and flows freely when one opens the heart. Harmony feeds on Harmony. Embrace what comes, accept the other, Harmony will prevail.

What had for a long time been a comforting prayer felt empty. She knew the truth of it, but really making it part of oneself was so much easier when she didn't have to stare down at what her gut told her would be the death of everyone. "How does she do it?"

Millet raised his head. "How does who do what?"

"Your wife." Copper Horn nodded in the direction of Meadowsweet, who was smiling at the fillies and at… at the larva. "She has seen some of the effects of that thing. She must feel it too, the aura. How can she simply sit there and feed it"–She squinted her eyes–"dried kale leaves?"

"Because she is extraordinary and a variety of fruit and produce is the foundation of a healthy filly. I'm so lucky to have found her that I still wake up every morning barely believing it." The smile on Millet's face was radiant. "Oh, and when she sees a foal she can't really help herself and start stuffing them with food. That, and she's ready to bolt with the fillies if something turns out badly."

Luna leaned into Celestia's side. "Do you think it's good feeding her all this stuff?"

Celestia pointed at the grub. "Hah, I've seen her munching on bricks. Slimey here can eat everything."

"Meadowsweet is one of the best of us. I hope I'll someday be as capable as her at accepting things." Copper Horn turned to the stove, opened the hatch below it and put a new log on the embers.

"You are their guardian, you know? You are a mother to them, while Meadowsweet, well, she's a mother to everyone. It's normal for you being worried. Damn me to the Icy Wastes if I lie, but I'm scared too. But we are trying to be better, and I think we are doing a pretty good job at it."

Copper Horn took a deep breath, then blew on the embers. Sparks danced, the white-coated coal glowed red, and a flame began to slowly burn under the wooden log. She closed the hatch and stood up again. "If you say so. Heh, when we all started I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I never expected, well, this."

"I don't think anybody did. Except maybe for Garvino, I can see him having some kind of plan for this situation. By the way, where is he? And where are Master Sottile, Willowbark, and Fidelis?"

"In the cistern." She grabbed a ladle and filled a kettle with water taken from a barrel. "Master Sottile wanted to examine the, well, I suppose the remnants of the cocoon. He hopes to understand better what we are having here."

Millet stood up and walked to a low shelf. He grabbed a terracotta jar by the twine and brought it back to the minotaur.

Copper Horn took it, opened the lid and pulled out some herbs she threw in the kettle. "I really am lost. What should we do?"

Millet sat down and brought a hoof up to Copper Horn's hand. "We should take one step at a time. Let us begin with a thyme infusion, then sit down with the fillies, and then let's prepare for tomorrow."

Copper Horn blinked. "Tomorrow? Wh–Rust take me, the fields, every farm will bring the harvest. We have to get the ledger." She passed a hand over her eyes. "Is everything ready? Shouldn't you go back to sleep? You'll have to be well rested."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll have just to finish a couple of things, and those will be ready when the farmers arrive. I was a tad more preoccupied about the food." Millet glanced at the trapdoor to the cellar. "With all the excitement I fear we forgot something."

"We have food. I just forgot it was tomorrow." Copper Horn reached for a higher shelf and took another small jar. "I guess I wouldn't have slept much anyway." She took a pinch of green powder and put it in a cup. "Let's send the fillies to bed." She looked at the cup and grimaced. "It will be a long night."





As she looked at Slimey eating another piece of kale, Celestia felt the muscles around her mouth starting to hurt from all the smiling. It was still worth it.

"She's not a butterfly." Luna crossed her hooves on the table and laid her head on them. "I kinda hoped she would become a butterfly. Or a moth."

"And why should she become a butterfly, Luna? From what I'm seeing here she's a bit more like a locust than anything else." Meadowsweet grabbed an apple and cut it into quarters with rapid moves dictated by habit. Slimey held her mouth wide open, needle-like fangs glinting in the candle-light. "Where does she put all that stuff?" she asked around the grip of the knife.

"Because she became a chrysalis. Like butterflies do." Luna scrunched her muzzle. "Caterpillars do it. Then they become butterflies. Or moths, but those are around only at night and Slimey was pretty happy in the sun."

Celestia lifted the sorry remains of the wooden spoon with her magic. "She's kinda like a caterpillar now." She squinted her eyes at the mangled piece of wood, then hovered a stone bowl with a bite-sized missing piece. "Would you look at that? She's still likes everything, and her manners improved too."

A very hungry looking Slimey was eagerly leaning towards the apple slice Meadowsweet held. The mare meanwhile looked at Celestia, then down at the slowly nearing maw. Little pieces of fruit, splinters of wood and some granite powder were glued on various parts of the grub’s face, and down in her gullet things were moving and shivering.

Meadowsweet blinked, then said, "Is that– What– Must be the light." She put the slice in the little trap, and the fangs closed down on it with a snap. "Awww, do you like it? Oh my, you will grow big and strong if you continue to eat so well."

There was a brief coughing from the other side of the table.

"Have you decided on a new name?" Luna put her hoof over the grub and patted it.

In an instant, Slimey rolled on her back and closed her whole body on Luna's hoof, the slice of apple still between the fangs. There was a crunch and the fruit disappeared in a whirlwind of something red and long.

Luna froze, eyes wide, staring at the sharp teeth hovering over her coat.

She heard the heavy step from Donna Copper Horn, she caught Meadowsweet reaching towards something with the corner of her eye.

Slimey blinked, three rapid movements of membranes from different directions. And then she said, "Lulu."

"Hey, she knows your name too! That's so nice, makes it easier when we go out to play." Celestia leaned forward beside her sister and reached out with her leg. Her hoof scratched Slimey on the side of her face.

The grub contorted again, said, "Tia." and finally faced Meadowsweet again, her mouth wide open.

Celestia glanced at her sister, then giggled. "You are smiling too."

"Am not." Luna patted her face. "Maybe I am. Hehehe. So, did you think about a new name?"

"Why would we need a new name? Slimey is perfectly good one."

Luna shrugged. "She's not slimy anymore. You can't call her that if she's not. Would be like telling a lie every time."

With a twirl, the chewed spoon landed in the stone bowl. Celestia looked at Slimey chomping down on more fruit. "Garvino's name doesn't mean he's whatever a garvino is."

"Griffin names are different. They tell stories of families, even if we don't understand them." Meadowsweet patted Slimey on the head. The grub opened her mouth wider. "No, little one, enough food for today. You should already be stuffed, and we don't want to overdo it." She turned to Celestia. "Slimey sounds almost like a pony name, but it doesn't describe her well. You should think of something else."

"But you are not Meadowsweet, but it's your name all the same. And Millet is not millet." Celestia sat straighter. Slimey opened her maw wider.

"Names are not necessarily straightforward, but they describe somepony, even if maybe they say one thing to mean another." Shaking her head the mare looked down at the grub. "No, nothing more until breakfast."

"You mean a metaphor. Master Sottile told us about them." Luna leaned into Celestia. "She can talk now. Well, she knows our names. Maybe she'll be able to talk in a while. Slimey seems kind of a mean name in that case."

Celestia reached out with her hoof, her lips a thin line. She delicately petted Slimey with her wrist. "So, what should we call you?"

"That is something you can decide tomorrow. It is late, and tomorrow will be a full day. They'll bring in the harvest." Donna Copper Horn's voice was soft but didn't leave any room for objection.

Luna perked up. "It's tomorrow? Oh, we can show Slimey around! And–"

"That won't be possible." Millet nuzzled Meadowsweet, then turned to Celestia. "You'll have to keep her a secret for now. You'll keep her safe. Please, promise that you will tell nopony outside us that you have her."

Celestia looked back and forth between Millet, Meadowsweet, and Donna Copper Horn. There were tired smiles but also worry. She could see it in Donna Copper Horn's hands, as she fidgeted. She could see it in how Millet glanced sideways every now and then. The dozen days of her own longing after Slimey, of her having problems sleeping because she hadn't understood what had happened, it all came back. She gulped.

"We will keep it a secret. Right, Luna?"





Somewhere, in the complex web of concepts composing the ever-changing map of her body, the certainty that she should be capable of more than consuming shivered and slowly grew. Stimuli, digested and deconstructed, attached themselves to memories, stretched out their tendrils and connected to each other.

In time they would congregate in a working whole.

At the moment, though, those were distant preoccupations. Far simpler impulses guided her, a consequence of having a digestive system smarter that the whole rest of her.

Provider of Nutrition, one of the three entities she had identified, was nowhere around. She couldn't feel it, the connection was far too weak for that. Tia and Lulu were also somewhere else, but them she could feel. She knew where they were.

Being away seemed wrong. Aside from consumption of matter, being not far away from them was something she needed. Something she longed for.

The current situation had to be changed.

She considered a direct path, but something, some kind of barely developed mechanism buried somewhere between her synthesizing bladder and her vacuum reactor, advised against it.

She looked around. Swirls and threads woven in complex patterns on a metaphysical layer surrounded her.

They seemed tasty.





Since the whole debacle had begun, Willowbark had tried to be ready for everything. He had meditated more often about the precepts, he had prepared two saddlebags filled with essentials able to help them stay healthy through the winter, he had even come to peace with the idea of losing everyone except the two fillies.

He hadn't quite prepared for mortification.

And yet, standing in the room he had personally inspected and secured to contain–he snorted–Slimey, he couldn't help but feel like a foal.

What had been hidden inscriptions and runes now stood out, their etchings filled with ash and soot. The little crib, each of the bars treated with spells and potions, stood empty in the center of six concentric circles burned through the carpet.

The path taken by the thing was evident even in the flickering light of the candle. It started from the pillows, went by the chewed through bars of the crib, a little crater on the floor, a furrow cutting the circles and finally a hole in the wall.

"Can't say I'm surprised." Master Sottile yawned, then entered the room, a little flock of candles following him.

Willowbark lowered his head. "I'm sorry Master. I… I disappointed you, again. I was so sure it would be enough. Maybe if I had been a uni–"

"Stop right there, Willowbark. Not another word along those lines or I shall have a talk with your mother. And you know what Meadowsweet will say, right?" Two candles landed on the floor while Master Sottile squinted at the runes. "This is… This was excellent work. Can't see a fault with it. And I imbued it with my magic, so if there is culpability, then we share it. No, I fear that this approach to containing it–her won't work."

One of the runes on the door-frame, it's lines traced in ash, crumbled down. Fine dust fell on Willowbark's shoulder. "But, Master, if Six Circles of Harmony can't stop it, then what?"

Master Sottile walked to the hole in the wall laid on his stomach to look through it. "Well, it could mean that she is a creature of pure Harmony, and as such unaffected by it. I doubt so, but I've been wrong in the past, despite what you or the little ones like to believe. She could also be something completely different, outside of the reach of Harmony, and as such flying over its grasp like a pegasus flies over a wall." He tapped at the borders of the hole, stone crumbling to blackened gravel where the hoof touched it. "Or it could be a sign that trying to stop her would be futile."

"So, what? We stop trying?" WIllowbark looked across the small, internal court, torches chasing the darkness away and casting light on the little medicinal herb garden and the well. On the other side of the court, he could see Donna Copper Horn and his father, Millet, standing at the door of the fillies room. "I know we should open our hearts to what comes, but…I mean–"

"We will never abandon the greater Purpose, my good student, but we will change our approach." Master Sottile stood up. "Come with me."

He left the room and slowly crossed the court. "We need to know more about it, which is why I intend to transform the cistern into a laboratory. The cocoon is still there, and we can't, nor do we want to, move it. In the meanwhile, we'll keep an eye on the situation. We will have to try to never leave the little ones completely unsupervised with Slimey, and be ready to bolt if the need arises."

When they arrived Millet shortly turned his head and nodded towards them, then turned back to the room. Donna Copper Horn never let her eyes stray, her lips pressed into a thin line, bags under her eyes. Master Sottile raised his hoof to his lips, then pointed at the door.

Willowbark stepped cautiously forward, his hooves descending slowly on the stone pavement with a barely audible clop. Inside he could see the outlines of pillows scattered on the floor, some wooden blocks, and scrolls. Against the wall leaned a collection of musical instruments, and a double flute was on the small table.

The light streaming in from the outside framed two fillies sleeping on a large bed, blankets tangling them in an inelegant heap. Luna's head laid on Celestia's side, and between them, wormed in the middle of the two bodies, green eyes stared out at him.

A single snore came from Celestia, and she wiggled closer to her sister, her forelegs wrapping around the grub.

With a sigh, Willowbark stepped back. Master Sottile waved to him, and both walked away from the door.

"What do you think, my student?" Master Sottile's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know, Master." A yawn escaped Willowbark, and he blinked. "Nothing seems to make sense about it. We can't trap it, we can't control it, and hurting it… It would be wrong and, I guess, a bad idea besides. It feels wrong, but it hasn't done anything to hurt the little ones. The Harmonious Teachings tell us we should accept it, but I fear that would be like embracing a forest fire. What should we do?"

Master Sottile looked up at the moon. It was in the final phase of its trail through the sky, and soon dawn would bring a new day. "We shall do the only thing that's left for us to do. We shall study, we shall work, and we shall be careful and keep an eye on the little ones. And we shall hope that Celestia and Luna are right and there's nothing to fear."