“It’s not working,” Scootaloo complains, tapping her hoof repeatedly on the top of one of the three cubes Sweetie Belle had ‘borrowed’ from her sister.
“Rarity just steps on it like this,” Sweetie Belle responds, “takes a deep breath, and walks away, fully charged.” Nothing happens when she tries, either.
Applebloom starts jumping on hers, trying to convince it to open up. “Not like they’re likely to do us much good,” she mutters. “We aren’t very good with magic as we are.”
“You might not have problems with running out,” Sweetie Belle counters. “On the contrary, I run out on a regular basis- and more power might put Scoots in the air.”
Applebloom blinks, rising one hoof to her chin, the other three resting on the canister. “True,” she mutters. “Come to think of it, with more power, I might even out-Applebuck Applejack!” Her hoof returns to her canister with a sharp stomp of determination- and punches straight through the not-so-durable control equipment on the top. Her hoof fails to enter the canister itself, but the mana inside flows out into a yelping Applebloom in just a couple seconds.
The other two Crusaders’ forelegs eagerly disappear into jackhammer-like blurs over the tops of their canisters, quickly shattering those same delicate controls into surges of mana.
“Wow,” Scootaloo eventually utters. “That felt weird.” She tries flapping her wings gently, then harder and harder, but to no avail. No more lift than normal. “Nothing new,” she scowls.
Sweetie Belle is next- Apple Bloom doesn’t particularly want to test out her possibly augmented earth pony magic inside their treehouse. That could only end in disaster. However, Sweetie Belle’s attempt to levitate their to-do list goes no better than it normally might. “It’s like nothing happened,” Sweetie Belle complains. “I can’t feel any of the power.”
The three leap out of the treehouse, and Applebloom tries a solid buck against one of the apple trees. Again, no luck. “Aww,” she mutters disappointedly.
Some distance away, but only a matter of minutes later, Twilight Sparkle finally canters into Ponyville.
“I’m here, finally,” she mutters.
“Where’ve you been?” Bonbon asks her immediately.
“A week ago, Rarity got mad and sent me to the Crystal Empire-”
WHOOOM!
Bonbon blinks twice. “Where’d you go…?”
“Well, at least she made it to Ponyville,” Lyra indicates.
Bonbon nods. “She’ll be able to use the trains again.” They canter off to deliver the news first to the mayor, then to the railroad attendant.
Sweetie Belle tossed and turned all night. Her back itched and burned every time she’d fall asleep- and finally, she manages a full hour of uninterrupted sleep before the sun shining in the window awakens her. She rolls over on her back, yawning massively as she stretches herself out- and freezes solid.
She must be dreaming. That’s the only reason she’d have six limbs right now. Unless, she reasons, that magic canister had accidentally turned her into a pegasus.
Explaining that to her sister would certainly be interesting. She wonders mildly if Scootaloo’s wings grew out, or if she’d lost them entirely in favor of a horn, before she clambers out of bed. Probably a dream. She wanders her way over to the mirror Rarity had installed for her and flares her wings. Her ruffled white wings… Which she tends to immediately. Even dream-Rarity would probably jump on her for not looking nice.
Ten minutes of this passes, during which she winces at the pains of her own, clumsy preening efforts. Finally, when she has her wings looking mostly perfect, she stops mid-reach for her brush. Normally, self-inflicted pain would end a dream instantly… And unlike her sister, she’s never had a dream about her own appearance. She’s pretty sure her sister never had to deal with a non-unicorn dream self… Just as she never had to, either, until now.
So she turns back towards the mirror, flaring and refolding her wings. If that’s the case, this must be reality, not a dream. Explaining this to her sister- or to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo- will be very interesting.
But wait.
Her eyes focus on her forehead again, and she flares her wings a third time, just to be certain.
She’s not a pegasus.
She stuffs a hoof in her mouth as part in parcel of her mostly successful effort not to scream. She stares at her wings. Could she hide them, maybe? Pretend nothing had happened?
She watches, jaw hanging open, as they obediently fade out of the mirror, leaving a perplexed white unicorn filly. She looks back to her side- no wings. Only, she can still feel them… And folds them. She shudders. Nothing happened, she tells herself sternly. She looks back at the mirror. Unicorn filly. Nothing happened.
“Sweetie? You okay?”
It’s Rarity, trotting towards her bedroom door. She forces herself to calm down, looking at the mirror. No wings.
“I’m okay,” she calls back, praying silently that she won’t have to explain her yelp.
“Okay,” she hears Rarity’s hooves reverse their course back to their own room.
She lets out a breath, and checks her back once again. No wings, unicorn filly. Now, school.
Apple Bloom manages to sleep through much of the burning on her back and in her head, waking up fully rested. She yawns, ambling out of bed and towards her dresser- only to freeze with her hoof six inches from the knob. She turns her head to look at her back… And at the yellow wings hanging down from it. Had that box thing turned her into a pegasus? Applejack wouldn’t be too pleased- pegasi aren’t very well known for their strength. Besides, they’d been specifically instructed not to play with those boxes.
Oh well. What’s done is done. She shakes out her wings, wincing slightly at their unkempt appearance- Rarity would have a fit- and turns back to her dresser. She’d have to ask Scootaloo for some preening pointers, probably- or maybe Rainbow Dash, if she runs into the weather pony first. She picks a clean ribbon from the drawer, reaching back to tie it in her mane.
Huh. What’s it catching on? She tries again.
Still catching on something too high on her head for her to see. She reaches a hoof up to feel out whatever it is- and freezes when she touches it. Not only does it feel much like Sweetie’s horn, but she felt the touch through her forehead. Even though her hoof is a few inches away from it.
Her eyes widen, and she stares at the ribbon in her left hoof while she thinks, her right returning to the floor.
Eventually, she rises up to stand on her haunches, to peer into the mirror above the dresser. Yep, definitely a horn. So, if she has both a horn and wings… What happened? She fixes her gaze on the ribbon… And it obediently lifts off of her hoof, though she notices the lack of magical aura. She scowls slightly, curious what color her aura is- and suddenly, the ribbon is floating in a magic aura. A glance at the mirror confirms it is her own bright yellow magic, and she ties the ribbon in her mane with it.
Then, she gets an idea. If she can hide her aura, can she hide her horn and wings? Almost as soon as she thinks this, her horn fades out of the mirror. She checks her side, where she can still feel her wings, but finds them missing. She gives them a test flap- and lands on her back. Still there, check. Invisible, check. She scrambles back onto her hooves, folding her now invisible wings- she checks the mirror to make sure- before she heads out the door. She’s still got to help make breakfast before school, and nothing so minor as being turned into something different will stop her from that.
Scootaloo also has difficulty sleeping. Every time she falls asleep, she’s reawakened quickly by a burning pain in her wings- and a searing headache. Still, she keeps trying, until the pains eventually go away. She manages only half an hour of quality sleep before the sun wakes her up.
She yawns gently, stretching out her muscles before she opens her eyes. Huh, she must be closer to the wall than usual- her wings don’t usually strike against it. She folds them again as she opens her eyes, sitting up in bed. Now, she unfolds them again, for what little preening they normally require-
Wait.
She’s pretty sure they’re close to three times as large as they had been the night before. Maybe this is another of those dreams where her wings grew properly. Whelp, they still need preening- something she can’t remember ever needing to do in a dream, even right out of ‘bed’.
Five minutes, problem solved. Each and every feather, nicely in position and smoothly aligned. Something similar to how well Rainbow takes care of her wings.
Satisfied, she starts to hop out of bed- but stops before she goes anywhere. What better time to test her wings? She gives them a test flap, then a harder one, this time making airtime. She lands roughly back on the bed.
That’s a problem she’s never, ever had in a dream before. Having working wings, but not being able to fly for lack of skill. Whatever- if it’s a dream, it probably doesn’t mean much. If it’s not, she’s sure Rainbow will be happy to teach her. She knows she’d love to take lessons from her idol.
Smiling at that thought, she trots over to her dresser, breaking out a brush, with which to control her bed hair. She doesn’t generally bother with her mane much- except she doesn’t want to end up looking like Pinkie Pie. She raises the brush, turning towards the mirror.
Ten seconds later, her mane and tail are fully brushed and far neater than she normally bothers to make them. And yep, that most certainly is a horn. She spends a few minutes in consideration. She still has no cutie mark- but next to becoming an alicorn, that’s almost a moot point.
Her eyes widen as her imagination locks onto that, drawing an image of Diamond Tiara laughing at her for becoming not just a useless blank-flank but a powerfully useless blank-flank. Come to think of it, there’s got to be a spell for disguise. Not that she knows how to cast spells. Perhaps… Ahh, whatever that was, it seems to have done the trick. Her horn has faded out of her mirror image, though her hoof still strikes it when she reaches up to check. She decides not to hide or disguise her wings- maybe she can claim that Zeus fixed them the same way he fixed Rainbow’s? Not that she has a clue how a room full of soft chairs could regrow a wing in three days.
Which reminds her. Those box things had been a gift to Rarity, by Zeus. How had he made them?
Fifteen minutes later, after breakfast, she leaves a little earlier than she normally would and makes a beeline for the clubhouse. Her family had made no comments about any horns, so her disguise whatever thing must have been successful. The clubhouse door flies open almost before she reaches it- and she finds it empty, exactly as expected. She collects up the three cubes, stuffing them into a bag whose cord she tosses over her neck and abandons the treehouse to make tracks for that hillside. The hillside Zeus resides under. The one with the cave Rainbow had shown her down.
Good thing her navigational instinct is so strong- the cave entry was easy to find, despite its near perfect camouflage. She gallops down it, wondering again at how it simply doesn’t get darker, beyond a certain point. She almost turns back when she rounds the final corner to find a closed metal door- but it slides open as she approaches.
“Gah!” she yelps, as she crosses the threshold. She feels something stutter throughout her entire body, and becomes acutely aware her horn has reappeared. She focuses, somehow knowing when it disappears again, before continuing into the room with all the seats. “Zeus?” she asks again.
“Yes, Scootaloo?” the bodiless voice Rainbow had called Zeus responds.
“Uh, those cube things you gave Rarity. How dangerous are they…?”
“I placed so many failsafes on them it should be impossible for anypony to get hurt. I’m curious how you got that horn.”
“Huh?” Her eyes grow wide as she manages to stave off panic. “Is it-”
“Invisible? Yes- with spellwork good enough you’ll probably even fool Twilight, until she takes a close look. Apologies, I will often notice things nopony else does- or even can, sometimes. For example, I was once able to track an invisible Discord for fully three hours before anypony in the room knew he was there.”
“Wow.” She gestures up at her forehead. “This happened overnight, I think.”
“It doesn’t happen to have anything to do with the three spent magic canisters in your bag, does it?”
She blinks. “Actually, it might,” she says. “Last night…”
She proceeds to pull them out, setting them on the floor in front of her as she gives him the story.
“It didn’t hurt at all?” Zeus confirms.
“Nope,” Scootaloo affirms, resting in one of the seats- on Zeus’ confusing request- when her story comes to a close. “Though I wonder what happened to the other two?”
“I believe that is something you should ask them. You’d best be headed for school.”
She nods quickly, hopping out of the seat. The cubes have already been picked up by a giant metal spider. “Yes, certainly. Though- they won’t start thinking I’m Flurry Heart or anything, will they?”
“No, they won’t. If they ask, tell them I fixed your wings. It’s true enough.”
“How, though?”
“The same way I can speak without a mouth: With technology so advanced you wouldn’t understand it if I told you. As a matter of fact, I was planning on fixing them next time you showed up anyways.”
“Ahh…” Scootaloo nods slowly.
“You probably don’t want to be late.”
“Right! Sorry! Um, bye? See ya later?”
“Any of the above works. I’ve adjusted my antimagic screens not to bother your magic; you won’t need to reestablish your disguise after you leave. Have a good day!”
With that, a smile, and a nod, Scootaloo leaves at a gallop, looking for all the world like a young pegasus filly that doesn’t want to be late for school.