In light of the events of the evening, Twilight Sparkle had cleared out a large holding cell in her dungeon and herded the rioters in there. The royal guards on loan from Canterlot had stoically marched the twenty-odd rioters down the stairs and through the corridors of the castle. They hadn’t protested much. A few of them were still proud and haughty with the thrill of success. The rest hung their heads low, rather abashed at the way they had acted. The Flower Trio huddled together in the center of the crowd, eyeing the guards with open dread. Sea Breeze seemed to vibrate with pent up worry and confusion. Written Script was still taking notes. Rainbow Dash lagged along at the back, unwilling to look up at anypony.
All of them were squeezed into the cell. It was the largest that the castle held, but it was still a bit of a squish. The guards then moved to stand against the walls. Three more ponies entered. Two of them trotted forth to sit in front of the cell. The third took a moment to speak with a guard. She gestured that they should leave. The guard shook his head, and a quiet argument ensued. The princess walked away to join her friends, scowling, but the guard and all his compatriots stayed where they were.
Big Macintosh was the least terrifying of the three. Despite his uncharacteristically twisted scowl, despite his magnificent physique, despite his stony silence, he was the one who seemed the most forgiving.
Twilight Sparkle was the second-least terrifying. Despite her occasional flares of magic, despite the infinity of stars that seemed to dance just out of sight behind her, despite the faint sounds of a chanting crowd and the smell of ozone that surrounded her, she paled in comparison to the worst of them.
Pinkie Pie sat between the other two. Her mane had turned into a razor-sharp cascade. Her normal cheery smile had been replaced with a deep frown. And her eyes… she met the gaze of each of the rioters in turn. In that gaze, there was no malice, no resentment, no anger at all. Only the sheerest disappointment that any of them had ever been subjected to. Rarity couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes for more than five seconds. Rainbow couldn’t even manage that. Carrot Top lasted the longest, but even she crumbled before a minute had passed.
“Well,” Twilight said quietly. “I certainly hope you’re satisfied.”
Carrot Top looked to Rarity, but the unicorn was staring down at the ground. The farmer straightened up, taking on the role of spokespony. “We are,” she said firmly. “We did what had to be done.”
The air behind Twilight glowed a deep purple. In the heads of the assembled, the same picture formed-- a great constellation, all arrows and circles and lines, flaring like a bonfire. But Twilight took in a deep breath and it faded. She let the breath out. “Do all of you feel that way?”
There were a few murmured agreements from the crowd, some earnest, others more subdued. But Rainbow Dash stood up. “I don’t think so,” she said.
Twilight looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Really, Rainbow? I thought you were the one who blamed her for all of this to begin with.”
Dash nodded. “I… I don’t like Trixie. But we chased her out of town again. And for what, being a showoff? I’m a showoff.”
“She was a danger to the community!” Carrot Top said, turning around to glare at this complete lack of solidarity.
Dash met her, glare for glare. “Oh, please, your kid was the one that brought the Ursa to town, and everypony knows it.”
“They’re a child, they didn’t know any better!”
“Oh, yeah? Well maybe--” Dash caught Twilight’s expression and bit her tongue. “Maybe Trixie is dangerous. Maybe I am. Or Rarity, or Pinkie, or Spike. Heck, Twilight definitely is.”
The princess frowned, affronted. “Excuse me?”
“Twi, you built a giant robot last month. Giant. Robot.”
“...Fair point,” Twilight admitted.
“So should we leave town, too?” Dash asked. “We’ll have to take a lot of ponies with us. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, obviously. The Flower Shop Trio, ‘cause they keep causing stampedes. The cows, for the same reason. All us Elements of Harmony, Discord, Ditzy Doo, boy, I sure hope Zecora doesn’t mind having company out in the Everfree. Oh, and Snips and Snails, too. ‘Cause of the whole ‘Ursa’ thing, at least for a start.”
She glared around the room. “Don’t you get it? Ponyville’s as much a danger to itself as anypony outside it is. I look around, and all I can see are the ponies who rioted in the streets just to chase away one measly magician. I was part of that because I didn’t like her. Heck, I still don’t like her! But we screwed up. We're the ones who started this.”
Carrot had stopped listening, and was even now glancing about the room, ever more frantic. “My child. Snails! Where is Snails?”
***
Some half an hour previously, Trixie was running flat out down the streets of Ponyville, even outstripping the smoke bomb she had smashed to the ground. Buildings blurred as she raced past. It was only when she ducked to catch her breath under a bridge that she realized that the world was still quite blurry. She was rather exasperated to find herself crying yet again. She gave herself a mental box ‘round the ears and reminded herself that she had never meant to stay here to begin with and what did the opinions of the ponies here matter to her anyway? Nothing at all.
She made to grab a hoofkerchief from her cloak. The cloak that was still in her caravan. The cloak that she hadn’t worn for nearly a week. The cloak that she had left in a cupboard. The cloak that she hadn’t even looked at ever since-- ever since--
Her last little bit of self-control snapped like a toothpick trying to support a house on its tip and she broke down into paroxysms of sobbing, loud and uncontrolled, mucus oozing from her nose and eyes and matting her coat all down her cheeks, screaming into her hooves until her voice was raw. Then she wept. Silent, bitter tears rippled the brook she sat overlooking until she had no more tears left. And then she sat. She said nothing. She did nothing. She gazed at the running water. Her forehooves were crossed.
She probably would have stayed like that for some time if a little hoof hadn’t tapped her on the withers.
“Gah!” Trixie screamed, stumbling to her hooves.
“Gah!” screamed the trio of foals, cowering.
All parties took a moment to let their hearts slow and their respective dignities return.
Trixie managed to speak first. “Wait a moment. You-- and you-- and, uh, who are you?”
“Zipporwhill,” said the filly. “I’m Snips’ sister. And this is Ripley.”
Ripley thumped his tail against the ground at the sound of his name.
“Oh,” said Trixie, regarding the dog warily. She held out a shaky hoof. “Good… boy?”
Riley barked and leapt forward. Trixie shrieked as she was bowled over and quickly covered in puppy kisses. “No! Off off off get off!” she shouted.
The dog eventually took the hint and shifted his body weight off of her. Trixie sat back up, dazed. Her mane was stuck up in spikes. “Bleah,” she said, refocusing. “What do the three of you want of me? If you’ve come to chase me out of town, you’re too late. I’m already going.”
This didn’t have the expected effect on any of them. Snips and Snails drooped, and Zipporwhill frowned. Even Ripley stopped wagging his tail and cocked his head sorrowfully.
“But O Great and Powerful Trixie--” Snips began, but Trixie cut him off.
“Call me Beatrix,” she said. “Trixie was just a stage name.”
With those magic words, she was liberated. For the first time in years, the mask had fallen completely. Beatrix Lulamoon, not the Great and Powerful Trixie looked out at the world. She could finally be free from her old reputation, free from the weight of that thrice-cursed Alicorn Amulet, free from the albatross named ‘Ponyville’ that had hung around her neck ever since the first time she had left this town.
But it was hard to feel free when three children and their dog are looking at you like you’ve just shoved Holly Hooves off a snowy roof on Hearth’s Warming Eve. She shook herself. “You wanted to talk to Tri-- to me about something?” she asked.
They all exchanged looks. “Where are you gonna go now?” Snails asked.
Beatrix paused. That was a good question. She wouldn’t go back to Neigh Orleans and be her brother’s personal blood bank, not for all the chocolate in Reindeerdam. She couldn’t stay here, and facing up to Starlight or Thorax would just be asking to get dragged back into the same routine she’d only just escaped. Returning to the rock farm sounded like an even worse choice. Instead of answering, she trotted out from under the bridge into the light of the fading afternoon.
Beatrix stared up at the mountains outside of town and pointed with a hoof to one of the highest peaks not capped with snow. “There,” she declared. “I will travel to a cavern up on that point, and become a hermit. I will live out the rest of my days there, shunning equine company, living off of the vegetation that grows so sparsely. Perhaps in meditation, I will discover… discover…” she trailed off.
“Yourself?” Zipporwhill suggested.
“A pretty rock?” Snips tried.
“The meaning of what it means to be real, and if indeed anything exists at all, eh?”
“Peace,” Beatrix said at last. “She will find peace.”
Snips and Snails looked at each other. Zipporwhill looked at them both with apprehension. “Can we come, too?” Snips asked.
Zipporwhill smacked her face with a hoof.
Beatrix frowned. “What… what part of ‘shunning equine company’ was unclear?”
“We’ll be really quiet, eh.”
Beatrix shook her head. “Your kind words are appreciated. But I think that I’m in trouble enough as it is without accusations of foalnapping. Go back home, you three. Forget Trixie, forget me. She-- I’ve given you nothing more then trouble and pain.”
“Aw, come on, Miss Trixie,” Snails wheedled. “At least let us walk with you ‘til ya get there…”
Beatrix gnawed at her lower lip. “But then who would walk with you back through the Everfree?”
“You could!” Snips said brightly. “And then we could walk you back to your cave, and you could walk us back to Ponyville, and then we could walk you to your cave…”
Beatrix shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she said firmly.
“They won’t give up until you say yes,” Zipporwhill said. “Would you let us walk you to the border of the forest?”
“...Very well, to the border of the forest,” Beatrix conceded. “Though Trixie is-- I am-- surprised that any of you-- you two in particular-- would wish to spend time with me.”
Snips looked at Snails. Snails looked at Snips. “Well, we’re kinda surprised you didn’t tell us to go away,” Snips said.
“We kinda ruined your show that time…” Snails said quietly, looking down at their hooves. “With the Ursa, eh.”
Beatrix closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “That was a very long time ago. You did not know better. Nor did Trixie. I… I suppose that nothing that happened that night was entirely anypony’s fault, really.” She paused. “Is that what you came to tell me?”
Snips and Snails stayed silent. Zipporwhill, though, looked her right in the eye. “It’s not what I came to ask you,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Beatrix, did you start setting Ponyville on fire?”
She made a face like she’d just bitten into a lemon. “No! I wish ponies would stop asking Trixie that and actually try to find the real culprit.”
“Can you prove you didn’t do it?” Zipporwhill demanded.
Beatrix spasmed slightly. Ripley gave a warning growl and interposed himself between his mistress and the ex-magician. Beatrix took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No. I can’t. But I would never do something so phenomenally stupid, so potentially deadly as blowing up houses. Neither would Trixie.”
Zipporwhill nodded, relaxing and resting a hoof on Ripley’s head. In an instant, the dog was cheerfully panting once again. “Alright.”
Beatrix gave a sigh of utter relief. “If only your parents were half so easy to convince,” she said, shaking her head.
***
On the subject of the foals’ parents, they and the other rioters were still locked up in Twilight’s dungeon. Rainbow Dash had been let out of the cell, though not yet set free. This was partly because Twilight wanted her perspective on what had incited the riot and partly because nopony wanted to see her and Carrot Top get into a fight, particularly not in such close quarters.
Carrot herself, though, was in no state of mind for a fight. She was staring through the bars of the cell, clinging on as though for dear life. Somewhere out there, Snails was wandering around, totally unsupervised. Trixie was still at large. Any building might be her next target. Carrot Top’s stomach dropped. How long had it been since she had seen Snails? The hospital had been the last time she could recall. All this time, she’d been trying to protect her town, its children, but she had let her own slip through the cracks…
She could see that some of the others had similar concerns. Sea Breeze sat in a corner, almost catatonic save for her vibrating. Written had put down his quill and was gazing out through the cell door. Rarity was pacing up and down and worrying herself sick about her little sister.
Hooves sounded down the hallway, clear and sharp against the crystal floor. Several pairs of ears pricked up as they registered two distinct patterns of hoofbeats coming down the corridor. One was brisk and even, the other hurried and more erratic, the sound of a foal trying to keep up with a grown pony. Heads turned down the hallway. Was this to be their child, safe and sound?
Princess Twilight rounded the corner, lips pursed tightly. Hot on her hooves was Sweetie Belle, scrambling to keep up with the mare’s staccato steps. Most of the parents and caregivers looked away, losing themselves in worry once again. Rarity, though, lit up, all but throwing herself at the front of the cage. “Sweetie Belle! Thank Celestia you’re alright!”
Sweetie Belle did not return the affection, stepping back nervously. “Uh, hi, Rarity…”
Rarity’s smile fell. “Whatever is the matter, dear?”
Twilight was the one who replied. “Really, Rarity? You can’t think of what might possibly be upsetting her?”
Rarity’s face fell. “Oh. Ah. I see.” She tried to meet Sweetie’s eyes, but her sister wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Oh, Sweetie, I was only trying to protect you from that-- that mare. You and your friends, the whole town! I only wanted to make sure you were all safe.”
“Sure,” said Sweetie. “That’s why instead of visiting Button in the hospital with me, you stayed home to blow up the kitchen and frame Trixie for it.”
It was like a physical blow to the gut for Rarity. “You… heard?”
“Not all of it,” Sweetie admitted. “I didn’t think much about you knowing where Pinkie Pie kept her firework stash. But it all seemed a little too convenient.”
“I had the guards compare your kitchen to the other accident sites,” Twilight said quietly, not looking Rarity in the eye. “Lieutenant Sentry found the compounds in your oven were completely different to the others. So in addition to causing a breach of the peace, inciting to riot, and harassment, that’s probably insurance fraud as well.” She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, as though meditating.
Rarity nodded quietly. “I’ve done something terrible, haven’t I?”
“You have,” Twilight said. “I’m sure you had your reasons-- please, don’t,” she said as Rarity opened her mouth. “Please. I know you’re sorry, and I know you well enough to believe that you’re sincere. But right now, I just… can’t forgive you yet. I’ll see to it that you all get a fair trial.” She walked away. Her whole body was slumped inwards.
Rarity watched her go. Her face was a mask of horror set in bone china. She looked to Sweetie Belle. The filly was gone as well. “Oh, sweet Luna, what have I done?” she whispered.
***
The party of five made their way through the outskirts of Ponyville. The ash in the air stung their eyes and throats, but they pushed onwards and out into cleaner air, out into the gently rolling foothills beyond the edge of town. Beyond the hills lay the treeline; beyond the treeline, Snails informed her, was a zebra who could guide her; beyond that there was a new home.
It would be nice to live in the mountains. She had been in such places before, performing in Windy City, Mt. Aris, Manetou Springs, and on one memorable occasion, Yakyakistan. It was bracing there, and the sky was so clear, so blue. On some of the mountains Trixie had seen, you could look down and see clouds floating past, or look out and see for miles and miles before your eyes met the horizon. Just think of all the places you could see.
Don’t! Don’t think of that. Don’t think of going to other places, new places, old places, seeing ponies connecting with ponies performing to the thunder of the crowds. Just… don’t. Beatrix doesn’t do that. Beatrix stays home. Beatrix is quiet and complacent and too scared to speak up and “Gah!” Trixie growled, shaking her head to clear it.
She was suddenly aware that the others were all staring at her. “Uh, Great an’ Pow-- Beatrix,” Snails hastily amended. “Is something the matter?”
Beatrix shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I was just thinking, that’s all.”
“What about?” Zipporwhill asked, narrowing her eyes in thought.
“About-- about--” Beatrix cast around wildly. “What’s that building for?”
“Oh, that’s just the old Rumor Mill,” Snips said dismissively. “Where they make flour and stuff.”
Beatrix squinted at it. There was something very odd about that mill. “Why aren’t the windmill blades spinning?”
Snails shrugged. “No wind?” they guessed.
“Then why,” Beatrix continued, “is the machinery still working?”
Everypony fell silent. Sure enough, they could all hear the grinding of gears and cogs in the distance. “...Weird,” Zipporwhill said slowly. “I wonder what that could be?”
“Let’s check it out!” Snips said, bounding forwards.
“Wait!” Snails said. “What about Tr-- Beatrix? We’re still taking her to the forest, right?”
Beatrix turned her head back to the mountains and hesitated. The rest of her life was an awfully long time… “The mountains are not going anywhere,” she decided. “Trix-- I would like to see what’s going on at the old mill myself.”
Snails shrugged and gave a sweet, lazy smile. “Okay.”
Snips, Zipporwhill, and Ripley raced ahead, while Trixie and Snails trotted on at a more leisurely pace. “So, what was it that you wanted to ask me earlier?” Trixie asked.
Snails blinked. “Uh, what d’you mean?”
“You came to ask me something, but changed your mind at the last minute. What was it really?”
Snails ducked their head. “You’ll think it’s silly,” they murmured. “You won’t like it.”
Beatrix rubbed their green mane playfully. “I think I can manage, somehow,” she said lightly.
Snails sighed and looked up at the sky, searching for the words they needed. “We wanted to know how long you were gonna stay in Ponyville, an’ if you wanted any assistants for your show if you were, eh? Me an’ Snips were so excited when you got back.”
Beatrix stared. “But why?” she asked. “I was horrible to Ponyville. I was really horrible to the two of you. Why don’t you hate me?”
Snails shrugged. “Dunno. You’re pretty nice ‘n’ stuff. Miz Zecora told us about how that Amulet corrupted a whole bunch of ponies, an’ zebras, an’ griffons, an’ stuff. It gets in your mind, eh? Twists it. Ponies start to think about all the terrible stuff they wanna do, an’ they do it.”
“Exactly,” Beatrix said. “Trixie-- I-- Trixie-- it shows you who I really am, doesn’t it?”
Snails nodded. “Yup. Lots better than a buncha other ponies with it.”
That stopped Beatrix dead. “Miz Cheerilee said lotsa ponies think Sombra had it first,” Snails went on. “An’ Roches Pierre had it in the Prench Revolution, an’ Griffon settlers with it tried to take over Zebrawe, an--”
Beatrix stopped listening. “It twists your own thoughts, you said?”
Snails nodded. “Uh-huh. So that means--”
Beatrix had gone very pale. “All this time, I thought those thoughts were just leftover from the Amulet. But they’re coming-- from me?”
“Miz Tri-- Lulamoon,” Snails tried, but before they could say more, the rest of the group came running back, eyes wide.
“You guys!” Snips said, breathing heavily. “You gotta see what they’ve got in there!”
Beatrix and Snails exchanged a look. Then, the entire group galloped toward the old Rumor Mill.
***
Rainbow Dash sat in a separate cell, slumped on a wooden chair by a long lab bench. The door wasn’t locked, but there were a couple of guards outside. Twilight had explained, much less harshly than Dash would’ve expected, that she was free to move about the dungeon-slash-lab-slash-basement as she pleased, but the guards would be coming with her. Dash had nodded and replied something about agreeing, but she hadn’t really been listening. It didn’t really matter. She didn’t feel like going anywhere. She felt nauseous and miserable, like the time she’d taken on Pinkie’s challenge of a pie-eating competition. She kicked the table meditatively.
The door opened and Pinkie herself trotted in. “Hiya, Dashie,” she said. If she sounded a little less chirpy than usual, Rainbow couldn't blame her. She sat down at one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table. “You wanna cupcake?”
Dash shrugged. She didn’t really feel like eating, but she didn’t want to hurt Pinkie’s feelings, either.
Pinkie fished in her mane and pulled out a chocolate cupcake. She held it up to the light, then abruptly threw it to the ground. “No cupcake for you!”
Dash jolted backwards at the sudden intensity. “Pinkie, what the--”
“Well, I wanted to play good cop, bad cop, but I couldn’t decide which one I wanted to be, so I decided I could be both!” Pinkie said brightly. “I hope you had a nice day, criminal scum!”
Dash blinked. “Uh…”
Pinkie leaned in. “Don’t worry,” she stage-whispered. “I don’t think you’re criminal scum, Dashie. It’s only pretend.”
“Oh,” said Dash, now completely lost. “Good.”
“And bad!” Pinkie cried happily, leaning back in her chair.
“Pinkie, I thought we agreed that we would do this my way,” Twilight said, trotting in.
“We did,” Pinkie admitted. “But I wanted to try my way out, first.”
Twilight sighed and plopped down into the other available chair. “Is Mac coming, too?” Dash asked.
“No. He and Applejack are organizing search parties for Snips, Snails, Zipporwhill, and Trixie.”
Pinkie frowned. “Aw! How come I don’t get to organize parties?”
“Pinkie, I understand that you’re trying to make me laugh, but it has been a very long day, and I am not up for that right now. Okay?”
Pinkie’s mane deflated halfway, but she nodded. “Okay, Twilight.”
“Thank you.” Twilight turned her attention to Rainbow Dash. “So. Dash.”
“How much trouble am I in?” Dash asked, not meeting her friend’s eye.
Twilight shrugged. “Not that much, actually. You were just sort of the source of the idea that Trixie was the arsonist. Which, obviously, wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done, but you aren’t the cause of…” she waved a hoof in the air. “This.”
Dash grunted. Twilight’s voice softened. “Alright, let’s put it another way. You got angry and screwed up. A lot of the rioters got angry and screwed up much worse. Carrot Top and Rarity got angry and carefully planned out an intentional attack, which is malice aforethought and much, much worse than yelling something stupid in public.”
“Gee, thanks, Twilight. That makes me feel a lot better,” Dash snarked.
“Rainbow. Day. Long. Temper. Short,” Twilight said. "I'm trying to make you feel better, so if you could try to work with me, that would be great."
There was silence. Then Pinkie spoke. “Why don’t you like Trixie, Rainbow?”
Dash opened her mouth to respond. “Don’t talk about what she’s done,” Pinkie continued quickly. “Like you said in the cell, we’ve all hurt ponies before. Talk about why you don’t like who she is.”
Dash closed her mouth and sat silently for a long minute, thinking deeply and kicking the table. After a long silence, she spoke. “She’s a showoff.”
Twilight frowned and was about to speak, but Pinkie held up a hoof. “She doesn’t care about anypony but herself, a lot of the time,” Dash said, warming to the subject. “She’s always gotta be the best, even when she obviously isn’t, and she’s gotta prove it to everypony no matter what. And she’s always yelling! You can’t ignore her, and she’s got an ego, like, the size of the moon. And-- and--” Dash broke off, eyes wide. “She’s just like me…”