The parlor was cheery and bright. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and faint music echoed from a phonograph in the corner. Granny Smith dozed in her rocking chair, a half-finished, amorphous knitting project in her lap. Mac Jr. lay by the fire, doing a crossword. A petite peach mare with an orange mane that frizzed over her eyes sat under a quilt, snuggled next to a larger yellow stallion whose mane was red as Apple Bloom’s own. The stallion grinned as Bloom trotted into the room. “There’s mah girl,” he said with a grin. “Where’d you run off to?”
Bloom opened her mouth to respond, but faltered. Her brow furrowed. “Funny,” she said. “Ah plumb forgot what Ah got up t’ do.”
“Can’t’a been that important, then,” her brother chuckled. “What’s a seven-letter word for ‘impossibility’?”
Bloom thought. “Got me,” she admitted.
“Starts with a ‘P’,” Junior added.
“Puzzles?” his mother suggested.
Macintosh Jr. frowned at the crossword. “...No. No, Ah don’t think so. Never mind, Ah’ll jes’ move on.”
Bloom looked up at the duo on the couch. “Somethin’ ya wanted, Pa?”
“Well, Ah know it’s rainin,” he replied, scratching the back of his head. “But Ah jes’ remembered that th’ library books are due back today. You wanna go take ‘em back for me?”
Bloom nodded. “Sure thing, Pa. Wonder if we can have some Twilight Time today…”
Her parents exchanged confused looks. “Twilight Time?” her father asked. “What’s that, sugarcube?”
Bloom furrowed her brow again. What had she been talking about? “It’s, uh, a book,” she said quickly. “Yep. New book. Heard about it from Sweetie Belle. Sounds real good.”
Junior glanced up from his puzzle. “Sweetie Belle? That a new friend o’ yours?” he asked.
“Uh?” Bloom asked, frowning. “What d’ya mean, new? Ah’ve known Sweetie since…” she trailed off. She could remember vague shapes and colors. A voice, sweet and pure, if a little squeaky. “Well, Ah’ve known her fer years,” she said.
Her father looked at her askance, but nodded slowly. “All right,” he said. “Well, th’ books are by the door, an’ th’ umbrellas are all in th’ stand. If ya see this friend of yers, tell her not ta be a stranger.”
“Right,” Bloom replied slowly. “Right. See y’all later, then!” She trotted for the door, her head throbbing with a strange double pulse. The world seemed to wobble slightly for the briefest of moments, and Apple Bloom wobbled on her hooves as the strangest sensation of vertigo washed over her. She shook herself. What had she been thinking? Nothing too important, surely. Off to the library.
***
The rain was less of an obstacle than the mud. It was only a mild drizzle, but it had been going on for long enough that the grime clung to the young mare’s hooves, slurping and squelching as she walked. She scowled down at the ground. She felt… oddly angry. And sad. Why? Something was missing, something important. So absorbed in thought was the mare that she didn’t even notice the pegasus until they collided. “Hey!” the other exclaimed. “Watch where you’re going!”
Apple Bloom looked up, wincing. “Sorry…” she said, but then stopped. This pegasus looked familiar. “...Scootaloo?” she asked slowly.
The orange mare gave Bloom a quick glance. “Oh. Hi. Apple Bloom, right?”
“...Yeah. What’re y’all doin’ out in the rain?” A vague memory floated across her mind. “Watchin’ fer Rainbow Dash?”
Scootaloo squinted. “Who? I’m looking for Thunderlane, obviously.”
“Rumble’s big brother?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I guess. But that’s not the important thing. He’s way cool! He’s the head of the weather patrol, and a reserve Wonderbolt! Plus, y’know, he’s the Element of Honesty, so that’s pretty neat, too.”
Bloom’s eyes crossed for a moment and the ground underneath her seemed to ripple like Jell-O. “Element… of Honesty?” she muttered through her daze. “No, that’s… that ain’t right.”
Scootaloo looked at the other mare with concern. “You alright? I didn’t think we crashed that hard. Hey, I’m sorry, I’ll get you a coffee at Sugarcube Corner, alright?”
Apple Bloom shook her head violently to clear away the fuzz. It worked, for the most part. Not entirely, though. “Yeah,” she said. “Thanks, Scoots.”
The pegasus gave a crooked smile. “No problem, uh, Bloom.”
Sugarcube Corner was fairly quiet that day. Mr. Cake stood behind the counter, humming contentedly as he arranged the pastries in their cases. He glanced up and smiled as the two mares entered his shop. “Morning,” he said with a nod. “What can I do for you ladies today?”
“Two coffees,” Scootaloo replied. “One with two creams, three sugars, and a shot of caramel, and one…” she trailed off, glancing at Apple Bloom.
“Milk,” the mare finished. “A lot of it, please. Chocolate.”
“Uh-huh. Lyra? Get the coffee machine, please!”
“Sure thing, Mr. Cake!” a voice called from the back room. Moments later, a mint-green unicorn strolled out of the door, followed by a large, clanking, clattering machine that spat out columns of steam periodically. It was pulled along by a tiny, perspiring, purple baby dragon. Once it was sat in the center of the workspace, he collapsed against it, panting heavily. Lyra grinned. “Thanks, Spike! You’re the best!”
Bloom’s eyes went wide. “What in Celestia’s name is that?” she asked.
Lyra glanced up, a wide grin plastered across her face. “You like it? It’s my own invention. I call it the Boolean Automated Beverage Yspenser, or ‘BABY’ for short.”
Apple Bloom furrowed her brow. “Yspenser?”
“She would’ve called it a ‘dispenser’, but we couldn’t fit that into an acronym,” Spike explained, mopping his brow. “So, Scoots, the usual?”
“Yep! And just milk for my friend here.”
“You got it!” Lyra replied, pulling a pair of punch cards out of a pouch and inserting them into a slot in the side of her machine. Mr. Cake, quick and silent on his hooves, trotted into the back room.
BABY hissed and whistled like a kettle, steam the color of cream rising into the air. The smell of coffee and vanilla filled the shop, and Bloom noticed that the temperature had risen a few degrees. Scootaloo merely stared at the machine expectantly, and Spike sighed and sat back on the counter. “Just wait,” he said, holding up a claw. “Three… two… one…”
There was a sudden ringing in Apple Bloom’s ears. The steam emanating from BABY had been replaced by caramel-colored smoke. It also appeared to be slightly on fire. Lyra sighed and patted the massive steam machine. “Next time,” she said. Then, she levitated two cups over to the counter. “Six bits, please,” she said.
Scootaloo hoofed over the cash. “For a second, it really looked like it was gonna make it,” she said.
“Yeah,” Lyra agreed, drooping slightly. “I just can’t get it to let out all the heat fast enough. Maybe I need to try a more conducive metal…”
“Maybe you should get Applejack t’ look at it,” Bloom volunteered. “She’s pretty good about fixin’ stuff.”
Lyra squinted. “Apple… Who?”