Chryssi opened the door to her shop with a little jingle of bells and poked her head out. “Well, come on in if you’re coming,” she called out to the empty square. “You’re not nearly as good at hiding out there as you think you are.”
The three girls emerged sheepishly from behind the fountain, through the arch and around the corner, and were waved into the shop.
“You’ll have to hang back, I have paying customers to see to,” she said as they filed in.
There were indeed a pair of customers comparing corsages, and being incredibly lovey-dovey as engaged couples often are. The bride-to-be was a yellowish tan with grey hair; her fiancé a much taller, bald man with skin a dark and light blue. “And don’t worry, I’ll talk to the bakers too and make sure they get the order just right,” the shopkeeper was saying in her silken voice.
They were being waited on by two shop attendants, siblings by the look of it, a boy and girl, both deep black with similarly striking blue eyes, spiky dark green hair and serious expressions. Chryssi’s children, maybe? They were running obediently back and forth across the shop, fetching fabric samples and templates, jewellery and candles, napkins and neckties.
Vinyl pulled Octavia behind a rack of tuxedos. “Hey, do those two look like Daring Do and Ahuizotl to you?”
Octavia poked her head round the corner to squint at the customers again, then turned back. “Not particularly. Really, Vinyl, your imagination is running away with you again. Daring Do is just a movie character, Ahuizotl even more so. And if they were real people, then surely they’d be mortal enemies, not lovers.”
“Yeah, I know. Still, it sort of looks like them.”
“Plus he’s not tall enough,” said Trixie, standing on tiptoe to look over a display. “Wasn’t he, like, eight foot tall in the films? With glowing eyes?”
“Sure, but that’s just special effects,” said Vinyl. “I’m sure he’s not like that in real life.”
“He’s not like anything in real life,” explained Octavia slowly, “because he is not real.”
Vinyl frowned. The way she said that – ‘not real’ – reminded her of what the shopkeeper had said about people she knew, including her own friends.
Octavia was looking away from her at some tastefully frilly formal shirts. Vinyl reached up a finger and gently prodded her in the shoulder. “Ow.” Her fingertip felt the rough fabric of her jacket, soft flesh and solid shoulder blade beneath. “Stop that.” Clearly, her friend was completely real. “Cut it out, Vinyl!”
The loving couple were leaving now, indulgent grins plastered on their faces, having apparently decided on just how big a fortune they were willing to spend on their wedding. Vinyl looked around the stack to see where the shopkeeper had gone.
“Looking for somepony?” she asked from right behind them. Vinyl and Octavia both jumped.
“Hi, Mrs er, Chryssi?”
“Chrysalis. And I'm not married, except ironically to my job.” She gestured to the wedding paraphernalia surrounding them.
“I…” She took a moment to gather herself. “I wanted to ask about what you said the other day,” said Vinyl quickly.
“About the bow tie? Trust me, a cravat is much more your style, paired with a period frilly shirt and long coat-tails. Stick to light colours, avoid black. You'd need the right hairstyle for it as well, possibly a wig.”
“About some people being… not real.”
The woman’s expression soured, then sharpened. She scrutinised them for a few seconds. “I’m actually impressed you remembered,” she said finally.
Vinyl frowned. “So what did you mean? What do you know about Smarty Pants and Lemon Zest?”
“Are you certain you want the answer to that, little girl?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
Despite being outnumbered and surrounded, Chrysalis owned the space. She stepped forward, and the three girls flinched as she leant in to whisper, “Because little mice can scurry in and out of the cage, and never even know it’s there. But as soon as they see the bars, they’ll be trapped inside it forever.” She made a scurrying motion with her fingers to illustrate her point, followed by a blocking palm.
The girls exchanged glances. Cryptic fortune telling wasn't what they were there for. “Okay… Yes. Yes, we’re sure we want to know.”
“Alright then.” Chrysalis straightened up. “As I said, I know everyone in this turgid little backwater. I know when someone leaves, rare as that is, and I know when someone new turns up. Your little lovebirds both appeared three weeks ago.”
“At the same time? It didn't seem like they lived together. Where did they move from?” asked Vinyl. Octavia and Trixie looked confused. She’d never told them about following the lookalike Smarty Pants.
“Nowhere. They’re not guests, they’re locals. They appeared here.”
“I… don’t understand. Where did they come from?”
“There's no way to be certain, but my money would be on you, Miss Vinyl Scratch,” said Chrysalis pointing a finger at her. “If I’m right, you’ve been fixated on your childhood doll lately, haven’t you? Since, let me guess, a little more than three or four weeks ago?”
“Yeah, actually. Ever since I noticed Tavi had the same doll as me. But it’s more than that. We’ve got the same memories of that doll, of growing up with it. How can that be? And why does Trixie have them as well?” She thought of something else. “Wait. How did you know he was my doll?”
“He’s everybody’s doll. At least half the town got the same thing.”
“You’re saying lots of other people have the same Smarty Pants doll – and the same memories?” asked Octavia. “All over town?”
“Precisely. People needed childhood memories, and there weren’t many to go around, so a bunch of you locals got the same ones.”
“Somebody gave us all fake memories? Who would do that?” asked Trixie.
“There is no ‘who’. It’s just how this town works.”
“So…” Trixie interjected, “Trixie’s memories of her mother… you're saying they’re not real?”
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Discord’s armpits, you lot are slow. Yes, about half the town got that exact same memory. The other half got something insipid about swimming with dolphins. Both of them were real for somepony at some point, before they got spread out.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Surely people would notice! And if those memories are fake, what happened to our real memories?” protested Octavia.
“Nothing happened to them,” purred Chryssi. “You never had any to begin with.”
Vinyl was shaken, but kept her cool. She asked, “Why are you so sure of that? What do you think we are?”
Chryssi stepped forward, her hands raised and fingers outstretched, and all three girls flinched again. “You’re puppets,” she hissed. She mimed a puppetmaster’s action with her fingers. “You’re just make-believe little dolls, playthings of the gods, dreaming that you’re real people. You got plucked from somepony’s memory, filled in with left-over bits and pieces, and expected to act like you’re real people. And you don't even realise that you're all just as much prisoners as me.”
“And that’s what everyone else is to you?” asked Octavia, offended. “Just your puppets to play with?”
Chryssi looked disappointed. “You weren’t listening at all, were you? No, of course not, because you’re no different. Not a single original thought in that simulacrum of a head.” She flicked a finger idly at Octavia’s forehead.
Vinyl pressed, “How do you expect us to believe any of this? I’m clearly real. So are they.” She nudged Octavia’s shoulder.
Octavia shuffled back with an annoyed frown. “Seriously, everybody stop touching me today,” she muttered.
Chryssi walked to the main desk and scribbled something down. “Tell me, how many Pinkie Pies do you know?”
“Er, one? Barely. Pinkie Pie's one of the girls who was part of that whole mess at the formal a few weeks ago. Is there somebody else called Pinkie Pie?”
Handing a note to Vinyl, Chrysalis said, “Go here and see for yourself.”
“Why are you telling us this?” asked Vinyl suspiciously as she took the card.
“It doesn’t matter what I tell you,” said Chryssi with a resigned shrug. “I’d wager my left wing that none of you are going to remember this in a week.”
After the demon Sunset incident, Vinyl couldn't help checking. There were definitely no wings on the shopkeeper’s back.
“Why wouldn’t we?” asked Trixie.
“Because you creatures never do,” she said casually. “Not for long.”
The girls exchanged nervous glances. “That's enough. The Great and Powerful Trixie does not appreciate being called a creature!”
“You can’t talk like that to customers,” said Octavia.
“Customers, really? I don’t see any of you planning a wedding any time soon. There's barely a whiff of love in the three of you,” said Chryssi, examining her fingernails. Octavia bristled. “And yes, I can say whatever I like, because you won’t remember it anyway. Any facts that don't fit your dumb little story will just slide away, like blood off a duck’s spleen.”
“Ewww!” exclaimed Trixie, stepping quickly back.
“Run along now, children,” said Chryssi with a shoo-shoo motion. “A queen needs her beauty sleep.”
After flipping the ‘closed’ sign on the door, she nodded to one of the siblings. “Follow them. Discreetly. Make sure no harm comes to any of them. We're going to need them.”
“Yes, Lady Chrysalis,” said the brother. He was momentarily engulfed in green fire, emerging as a typical school student with no distinct characteristics other than pale skin and blue hair. He slipped out of the door, which Chrysalis locked behind him.
She sauntered to the back room, whistling a tune.
The sun was setting as they slouched back to the car. Vinyl looked at the note.
Sunday 11am
Sugarcube Corner
The Pinkie Pie Society