//------------------------------// // 13 - A Fateful Disagreement // Story: Lessons in Chaos // by TobiasDrake //------------------------------// “What do you mean, Rainbow Dash is gone?!” Twilight was stunned. Never in her wildest dreams had such a thing even seemed possible. Rainbow Dash had always been a part of the group, despite her best efforts. “I’m afraid so, darling,” Rarity explained. “It would seem she has finally realized how terrible she is. So she flew far, far away from Ponyville and will not be returning. But never you fret!” “I wasn’t ‘fretting’,” Twilight grumbled. “She really is terrible. We’re all much better off without her. Still, we’re going to need a new friend to carry the Element of Loyalty.” “Already covered, darling,” Rarity said with a grin. “I have the perfect pony in mind. My secret twin stepsister Diamondgleam will be here shortly to take her place.” Twilight’s eyes shot open. Then she closed them just so that they could shoot open again. “Did you say Diamondgleam?! That’s amazing! I never knew you were related!” “Oh, you know her?” “Know her?! She’s my secret twin stepsister too! But how can she have the Element of Loyalty when she already took over bearing the Element of Laughter last week?” “Oh, Twilight, you worry too much! Diamondgleam is more than enough pony to handle two Elements. Why, you know that she was born both a pegasus and a unicorn. Although, mysteriously, she is not an alicorn, but a brand new creature called a pegacorn. She’s both the first and last of her kind!” “Pegacorn?” Applejack emerged from bushes. “Y’all ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Diamondgleam, are ya?” “Why, whatever else is there to talk about in this dreary little town?” Applejack smiled fondly. “Ain’t that the truth. Did y’all hear I’m gettin’ hitched to her brother, Diamondguy, next week?” Twilight gasped. “You are?! Congratulations! I’m sure you and Diamondguy will get along great together!” “Eeyup, I reckon you’re right on the pig’s behind, Twilight!” Applejack swooned. “What a wonderful stallion that Diamondguy is.” “I agree.” Twilight smiled. “He is, in every way, the perfect dream boyfriend! He’s also a very distinct and suitably different pony from Diamondgleam. This marriage is Pony Princess Approved!” Resting on her front, one foreleg crossed over the other, Twilight stared straight forward towards the interior wall of Discord’s extradimensional cabin. Her eyes darted this way and that, but a white glaze concealed them from view. She spoke, her voice full of equal parts confusion and disdain, of the visions before her. “…what am I looking at.” “Why, everything!” Discord giggled at her from his perch. To her frustration, he’d taken his seat on one of the staircases to nowhere, reclining upside-down on the bizarre ceiling structure. “This is it, Twilight! This is the question. You’re looking at the fundamental mystery that runs beneath every scientific study and research paper you’ve ever read.” He giggled. “It’s like reading the stuff that goes in the book! Isn’t that exciting?!” “I guess?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “None of this is making any sense. Who is Diamondgleam supposed to be? I’ve never even heard that name before, but everypony’s acting like she’s one of our best friends.” “Why, she’s simply the best!” Discord exclaimed. “You’d understand if you’d met her. She’s as clever as Clover the Clever and as powerful as, uh… as Clover the Clever! Did you know she defeated Nightmare Moon with her bare hooves?!” “That seems highly improbable,” Twilight said flatly. “It’s completely improbable!” Discord chuckled. “But is it impossible?” “Yes,” Twilight said bluntly. “Yes, it’s impossible for a… for whatever a pegacorn is supposed to be to defeat Nightmare Moon with her bare hooves! How does that make any sense?!” “Oh, Twilight.” Discord grinned malevolently. “Why does--” “Why does everything have to make sense?” she said in a frustrated pantomime. “I get it. You don’t live in a world of physics like we do. You don’t have to care about things like basic causality, so you don’t. But that’s not how reality works!” “Is that right?” Discord stroked his beard, enjoying Twilight’s display. “Yes! The universe is governed by very specific rules,” Twilight said, pounding the air in front of her as if gesturing to an invisible document. “You might not understand that because your magic lets you break those rules. But the rest of us live in a world governed by reason and logic. One where there is no such thing as a ‘twin stepsister’!” Trying to think too hard about that particular combination of words caused Twilight to have a splitting migraine. “Mmm… perhaps you’re right,” Discord said coyly. “A world governed by rules and restrictions isn’t something I’d ever give much thought to. It sounds dreadful. But I suppose there might be a nugget of—oh!” He clapped his paw and talon together, exclaiming “I just had a lovely idea!” Discord half-jumped and half-fell from his perch. As he landed on the floor, he scooted forward on his tail like a foal eager for a bedtime story. Gleefully, Discord asked, “How about I make you a deal? You explain a rule to me. One fundamental rule of reality. And I’ll concede to your point!” Even hunched over in a serpentine imitation of a seated pony, Discord still towered over Twilight. That he popped his legs off to hug them to his chest didn’t help matters, either. Twilight narrowed her eyes up at him. “You want me to explain a physical law?” “Of course! That shouldn’t be too hard, should it? The universe is governed by them, after all.” “I guess not.” Something about this didn’t feel right. There was a logic trap in here. There had to be, and she’d need to be mindful not to walk into it. “What’s the catch?” “No catch. You teach me about physics and I’ll sit here politely and ask the question. Like a good little colt.” There was definitely a trap here. “I supposed I can do that,” Twilight said. Her mind raced to try and get ahead of him. If she could find where he was going with this, she might be able to head him off. “Excellent! Then why don’t you explain….” Discord lowered his voice, speaking the word as if it were some dark spell. “Gravity.” A crack of lightning punctuated the word. He held out his arms as though conjuring the force itself. Rather than fall, his legs drifted around him, falling into a stable orbit. A porcelain teacup beside Twilight was caught up in the force of Discord’s personality, skidding across the table and floating into his orbit as well. Twilight scoffed. “That’s an easy one. Gravity is a fundamental force that attracts matter in the universe towards one another. It’s what causes the downward pull. Objects, fluids, and even the air we breathe are all pulled downward and held to the planet’s surface by gravity. Some ponies have even suggested that light might be affected by gravity as well! I’ve read a few papers on it and the research is fascinating!” “But why is that?” Discord asked. “Why does gravity exist?” “It comes from matter,” Twilight explained. “Technically, everything has gravity. Even you and I exert a gravitational pull, but it’s too weak to affect anything. Larger objects such as planets or stars, however, have a much stronger gravitational pull.” “But why does it exist?” Discord repeated. “I just told you,” Twilight said. “It comes from matter.” “No, that’s what it is. You’re not telling me where it came from; only where it is now. Why. Does gravity. Exist?” Twilight glowered. She didn’t like the way that Discord was saying this. He spoke with confidence and no small amount of swagger, as if he’d already sprung the trap. But instead of disproving her statements, he was only restating an absurd question. “Because it’s a natural law of physics,” Twilight answered. “It serves a fundamental purpose. It exists because it has to; the universe as we know it couldn’t exist without it.” “You’re still telling me what it does. But why does it exist?” “Because it has to exist in order for the universe we live in to have come into existence in the first place!” Sarcastically, Twilight added, “Why does lightning exist?” “Why indeed. Ohohoho!” Discord cackled to himself, unfurling into the air before her. “What fun! You’re finally starting to ask the right questions!” Twilight glowered. This was getting nowhere and at this point, she was pretty sure that Discord was making fun of her. “What are you talking about? You said you had an answer for me,” she said. “Why, Twilight, I said nothing of the sort! I said I had a question. The question. The only question that anypony has ever wanted to know! Why.” “Okay,” Twilight said defensively. “And asking why is chaos magic?” “Oh no, quite the opposite.” Discord reached out with his talon, grasping his orbital teacup. He lifted it to his lips as though to drink, but realized the cup was upside down. After a moment’s contemplation, he flipped his head around to compensate. Twilight scowled. Part of her wanted to smash that stupid cup, but she quashed the impulse. It wouldn’t contribute anything positive to the conversation and there was every likelihood that her magic wouldn’t be able to pierce his anyway. She needed to keep a cool head about her if she was going to get information here. Instead, she thought that perhaps a more specific example might facilitate a more reasonable answer from Discord. “Let’s try a different approach,” she said. “Chocolate rain.” “Some stay dry and others feel the pain,” Discord sang to himself. “The first time I met you, it was raining chocolate milk. How did you do that?” “That’s not the question,” Discord said with a bemused grin. “Yes, it is!” Twilight shouted. “It’s not, ‘Why was it raining chocolate?’ It was raining chocolate because you made it rain chocolate with your chaos magic! The answer is you!” “Oh, Twilight,” Discord said. Twilight’s anger flared at the sound. It was the same tone, down to the decibel, that Princess Celestia had always used to calm her down whenever she let her excitement get ahead of her knowledge base. It was a nurturing sound, one that helped bring her back down to reality. It offended her to hear it coming from him. “If you already have the answers, then why do you even need to ask?” “You’re deflecting,” Twilight accused. “The question isn’t why. It’s how. How do you make it rain chocolate? How do you do any of the things that you do?! Your magic violates every metaphysical principle. It violates causality itself. Nothing about you is possible. Nothing about any of this is possible!” She gestured wildly around the cabin. “You told me that reality is suggestible in this place. But you’re able to make these suggestions in actual physical space. How is that possible?” “That’s not the question.” Twilight pounded her hoof into the floor. Truly, in all her life, she had never met any creature so infuriating as Discord. He floated in front of her, coiled smugly around himself in a mock fabrication of natural life. She hated that grin. She hated the knowing glances and bemused condescension, as if there was some great hidden joke that only he was privy to. “I’m waiting,” he said in faux politeness that made her skin crawl. “Fine then,” Twilight said bitterly. “Why.” She thought for a second, trying to rephrase her question. “Why… do these things happen… only when you’re around?” “Why indeed?” “No!” Twilight screeched. Discord’s teacup hurtled into the wall behind him, smashing to pieces and spraying its contents. He whipped around, staring intently at the mess. “Do not do this to me, Discord! I asked your stupid question! You owe me an answer!” “I never said it was my question,” Discord said, still watching the wall. “I said it’s the question. Every scientific principle, every spell, every invention, it all comes from the question!” Discord never moved from his spot. Yet suddenly, Twilight heard his voice whispering in her ear. She felt a pressure constricting her, squeezing her lungs as if caught in his coils. “But it’s not my question.” The pressure released at once, but the sharp chill running down her spine lingered. She whirled around to see where the voice had come from, but the only thing behind her was the world in front of her. Discord floated in the middle of the living room, just in front of the broken shards and stained tea on the wall. “Stop doing that,” Twilight said. She tried to make it sound tough, but she couldn’t disguise how much the experience had startled her. “Aw, don’t be mad,” Discord said gleefully. “You did it! You’ve explained gravity to me. That means you won the conversation!” He snapped his talon and a tiny Discord emerged from Twilight’s mane. He stood on her shoulder, blasting a triumphant anthem on a tiny trumpet directly into her ear. Then he vanished as quickly as he’d come. Blue and pink streamers erupted from the walls. A heavy weight fell on Twilight’s head followed by a great red cloak that landed on her shoulders. Using her levitation spell, she lifted the object from her head to examine it; before her eyes was a golden crown with the inscription, ‘Princess of Talky-Talk’. “This is serious, Discord,” Twilight said. “Oh, so much more than you know,” Discord said menacingly. He then turned meaningfully back to the wall, floating aside. He turned with his whole body towards the mess, indicating that there was something about it that Twilight needed to see. She didn’t understand. What was so interesting about a broken teacup? Certainly, she’d lost her temper and despite everything, she did feel guilty about it. The splatter, of course, was not dripping like it naturally should. It had splayed out as if on the floor and remained fixed in place. Discord’s disdain for causal physics made this no surprise. … Except that she’d been the one to throw the cup. Why would it be— The moment Twilight began thinking about that, the pieces of the cup fell from the wall and clattered on the floor. The tea, suddenly caught in the grip of gravity, began its descent down the wall. The laws of physics had corrected themselves before Twilight could reach a logical conclusion. Twilight shivered at the revelation. She hadn’t cast a spell. She did not used her levitation magic to throw the cup. She was so angry that she wasn’t even thinking about how she did it. It just happened. Without using her horn to channel the force of magic, such a deviation from causal physics should not have been possible and yet, for over a minute, it had shared a reality with her. “How did I do that?” she whispered. Discord smirked to himself. “How is not the question.” She no longer had the ability to be frustrated with such an answer. “You told me that the Space Between is highly suggestible,” Twilight said. Her mind was already running full steam on what had just transpired. She tried to walk her actions back and figure out what she’d done differently, but she’d been so upset that it was difficult to get a solid recollection of what she was even thinking, let alone any alternative magic she might have worked. “Oh, yes!” Discord said. “Quite suggestible, in fact. Why, you gave me such a lovely show on your way down.” “Of course, I did,” Twilight said bitterly. “For what it’s worth, I’m on your side. Honestly, that Rarity is lucky you even speak to her after what she did to you! Really, you’re better off.” He blinked, then glanced at a glowing void in the far wall. Twilight’s body could be seen in a meditative state, resting in a stone cavern dimly lit by the glow of a flickering campfire. “Well, maybe not here. But in a general sense.” “Thank you,” Twilight said flatly. “Nothing makes a pony feel better about her life choices than approval from a creature like you.” “You are quite welcome!” Discord gave a small bow. Twilight had what she needed. The Space Between’s suggestibility was likely what had made her cup throw possible. That made sense to her in a way that she could be comfortable with. Which meant that, in theory, she should be able to reproduce the effect. She stared at the smear on the wall, willing it to cease its dripping and roll back up to where it had been. The smear did no such thing. Twilight sighed in frustration. Why had it worked before? She’d done it then; why couldn’t she do it now? “You need to relax,” Discord said. “Ask yourself: what would Diamondgleam do?” “Diamond….” She’d almost forgotten about that part of the conversation. “Wait a second. You’re saying that Diamondgleam used chaos magic to defeat Nightmare Moon?” It made perfect sense! Nightmare Moon’s power was immense, but Discord’s was literally unfathomable. Supplementing their fight with chaos magic could easily make it look as if she’d done it with her bare hooves. And it would explain the strange behavior of— “You’re close,” Discord said. A tiny Discord wearing a Stetson perched on the side of Twilight’s teacup. He gave Twilight a wink, then kicked its sides to make it rear back and whinny. “If it were a snake it would’ve--” Suddenly, Discord scooped up both the teacup and the tiny version of himself. “You know what, on second thought, that’s probably a bad joke. You have a thing, I should have been thinking about that. The last thing I’d want is to make this awkward between us.” Twilight took a step back, uncertain if she even wanted to follow what Discord was saying. “Can we get back on track?” she asked meekly, attempting to rerail both the conversation and her mental process before she wound up dwelling too much on that horrifying image. “If Diamondgleam isn’t using chaos magic, then how is….” She gave out a frustrated sigh. “Why is she able to defeat Nightmare Moon?” “Because of what she is.” The walls of the cabin flickered away, leaving the vast, inconceivable chaos inherent to the Space Between. Discord waved his arms and the chaos molded around them, answering his call. The impossible shapes and mind-shattering colors morphed and shifted into something Twilight could conceive more easily: a field of stars that littered the universe around her. There were millions of them at least. They seemed to come and go of their own volition; constellations vanished and were replaced by new configurations as soon as she moved her eyes. Twilight spun about in the empty space, taking in its grandeur. It made her feel very small, like an insignificant speck in the universe. It reminded her of the threads that she’d found within her mind palace. Discord had used one of those threads to bring her awareness to the Diamondgleam reality in the first place. “These are different worlds,” Twilight observed, following his logic. “Close! These are possibilities, Twilight. An infinite well of possibility that makes probability into outcome! This is where possibility becomes reality!” In that moment, it made sense. “Being here in this place isn’t some ability that chaos gave us,” she whispered. “This is chaos. It’s the raw form of possibility itself.” Twilight looked up to Discord, eyes full of wonder. “This is how you do it. Somehow you’re drawing on this place to....” Twilight tried to continue her train of thought, but nothing seemed to make sense. “To do what? To change the fabric of reality? To make material physicality as fluid and suggestible as the Space Between? Or are you momentarily displacing our reality with another?” She looked up at him, grinning that arrogant grin of his. “How do you do this? How am I doing this?” “How isn’t my question.” “Are you crazy or just stupid?!” It took Twilight a moment to realize that voice hadn’t come from her. The question had resonated through the Space Between, but it had not come from either creature present within its irrational geometries. It came from the space/time hole in the cabin, rippling from Twilight’s connection to her body. “It sounds like my friends are awake,” she said. “I should go.” A part of her was grateful for the distraction, but she hated leaving like this. She still didn’t understand what Discord was talking about, and every time she spoke with him, she was left with more questions. And now she had questions about questions! “Well, I’d offer to see you out but I’m afraid I don’t care very much. You understand.” Discord waggled his fingers. “Do be sure to drop by again; I do so love our talks!” The great void of space faded, replaced once more by the strange cabin that Discord called a home. There was still one thing bothering Twilight, however. “You’re welcome to join us,” she offered. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Discord said. “Besides, I like it better when it’s just the two of us, you and me. It’s so much more cozy that way.” Twilight scowled. That answer had neither confirmed nor refuted her suspicions. Opting for a more direct approach, she asked, “That was your statue in Bridle Rock, wasn’t it?” Discord didn’t answer right away, so she continued. “This has been bothering me. Since I got here, I’ve been working under the assumption that you followed me here from my reality. But you didn’t, did you? You’ve been here this entire time, trapped in the Space Between, unable to act on the world or even perceive anything past those broken stones.” “Have I, now?” Discord asked slyly. “You said that you’d followed me here. Did you mean you followed me from my reality? Or did you find me in the Space Between and guide me to yours?” Discord puffed on a bubble pipe. “Mmm, both interesting theories. Or perhaps I came from another reality entirely. I might have found you falling and I followed you here. In an infinite plane of endless possibilities, who’s to say there should only be two choices?” “I suppose that’s possible,” Twilight admitted. She felt ashamed at having not considered that before. “But it still wouldn’t make any sense. If you came from my reality, you would either help me get home or strand me here. Knowing you, I could believe either one. What I can’t explain are the meetings we keep having. I don’t understand the purpose. What do you have to gain from all of this?” “Hmph!” Discord folded his arms. “I’m disappointed in you, Twilight. You spent so much time arguing about this! But we spend less than five minutes away from that conversation and at the first chance you get, you jump right back to why. I say good day to you, madam!” A door slammed in Twilight’s face before she could respond. She didn’t recall stepping outside, but the cabin was fading quickly before her eyes nonetheless. She never took her eyes off of it but within seconds, she could no longer pick it apart from the blinding colors and swirling light. But perhaps it was just as well. She was needed somewhere else. Becoming accustomed to the physical world again after spending hours in the Space Between was a disorienting experience. Twilight was immediately struck by dull aches in her muscles that she’d never even realized were there before. It was as though a great weight had suddenly been added to her spirit, encasing her in material bindings. And yet, it was a comforting sensation all the same. She had returned to a world not her own, but at least it was a world that made sense. It was founded on the same physical laws she’d devoted her life to understanding. All of that out there, that was color and noise, but this was real. She blinked her eyes, letting them adjust to the cavern’s light. The red glow from the fire had been joined by a dim white, seeping in from the corner near the entrance. This hint of daylight made Twilight’s heart soar. Truly, she’d never appreciated the light until she was forced to spend a week without. She would never take Princess Celestia’s blessing for granted again. “Oh, hey!” Sunset called out in mock surprise. She added, “Look who finally woke up.” “I wasn’t asleep,” Twilight replied grumpily. She rose shakily to her hooves, struggling to get used to balancing again. It seemed so much harder here than it was in the Space Between. Literal muscles came with limitations that Twilight’s spirit or projection or whatever it was lacked. “I’ve been communing with Discord.” Flash Sentry tensed up. On the other side of the campfire from Twilight, he lay on his front with a crudely opened can of sweet corn between his forelegs. “He’s not going to flip the world upside-down again, is he?” “No,” Twilight answered. “That was only possible because we found his statue in Bridle Rock. He used the statue as a conduit. Without that connection, I don’t think he’s capable of interacting with this reality.” “Isn’t that what he has you for?” Trixie asked from Twilight’s left. Her body was shrouded in at least three different blankets. The green middle layer came up over her head and covered her hood, giving her the appearance of some sort of monk. “He’s never asked me to do anything,” Twilight said. It was technically true, but she couldn’t shake the feeling like Trixie was right. After all, the likelihood had certainly crossed Twilight’s mind a few times. Discord wasn’t the kind of creature that would be helping her merely out of the kindness of his heart. He was using her; of that, there was no doubt. But she still had no idea what his endgame might possibly be. “This doesn’t matter!” Sunset Shimmer asserted. “If he’s not going to help us, then there’s nothing to discuss.” She pointed her hoof at Flash. “Now, would you tell this idiot that he’s being stupid?” “Twilight already gave me her blessing,” Flash said. “As soon as we make it back to civilization, I want to find somewhere that we can get away from all of this. Fluttershy’s been through enough. She doesn’t need you dragging her into another fight.” “Um,” Fluttershy spoke up. She sat on her haunches to Flash’s left, just across the fire from Sunset Shimmer. She raised her hoof meekly. “If I could just--” “That’s your plan?” Sunset Shimmer asked. “Run away and hide under a rock and hope the scary Princess doesn’t find you?” “They’ve been at this all morning,” Trixie whispered to Twilight. Sunset Shimmer scowled at Flash and Fluttershy. “You’re in my herd and that means you do what I tell you. I did not break the two of you out of Bridle Rock just so you could prance off and leave me holding the bag.” “You broke us out?” Trixie asked. “That’s funny. I never knew you had a spell that turns iron into applesauce! But I suppose I wouldn’t, would I?” The sarcasm fell abruptly from her voice as she accused, “You never taught me anything.” “You’re taking his side?” Sunset asked. Fluttershy raised her hoof. “If I could just--” “And why not?” Trixie asked. “What has Equestria ever done for me? All I wanted to do was bring a little fun to this kingdom, and they shoved me in a hole to rot.” Bitterly, she added, “And it’s not like anypony’s going to miss me. So if Flash thinks there’s a better place for us somewhere far away from here, then my vote is, ‘Giddyup.’” Fluttershy cleared her throat and tried again. “If I could just--” “Hmph,” Sunset scoffed. “Really, it’s my fault. I don’t know what I expected from you, Trixie. But if any of you honestly think the outside world is going to be any different, then you’re living in a faerie tale. There’s not going to be some great magical paradise over the horizon. Do you know what you find when you cross the world? You just find more world.” “What other choice do we have?” Flash asked. “Twilight Sparkle is a deranged lunatic!” Twilight bit her tongue and tried not to take offense to that. “She won’t take our escape lightly. She’s going to have search parties scouring Equestria for us. There is no place for us here, not anymore. If we stay here, we’ll all be back in Bridle Rock within a moon. Maybe worse.” He looked Sunset Shimmer in the eyes. Earnestly, he asked her, “What do you even think you’re going to do? You can’t challenge her by yourself.” “I already told you,” Sunset replied. “Once I become an alicorn, everything changes.” She gestured angrily at the cave entrance. “That throne belongs to me and as a true Princess, there won’t be anypony who can keep it from me. I claim my right and this whole crisis ends right then and there. And when I do, I’m going to remember who stuck by me. You’d do well to keep that in mind.” Flash looked to Twilight. “Is that actually possible?” he asked. Sunset rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Twilight Sparkle was able to pull it off and she can barely find her horn with two hooves. I can do it in half the time she took.” After a few seconds, she asked, “…how long does it take, anyway?” That was a complex question with an answer she still wasn’t entirely sure of how to present to Sunset Shimmer. Fortunately, she might not have to as of yet. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Fluttershy fluctuating between raising her hoof and lowering it. She recognized that antsy behavior, and the lip nibble erased any doubt of what it meant. “I think Fluttershy has something to say. We’re all talking over her and that’s rude of us.” She looked to her friend. “Go on.” Fluttershy looked apologetically at Flash beside her. “I wanted to say that… Flash, I do appreciate what you’re trying to do. I do. But I agree with Sunset Shimmer.” Flash’s jaw fell open. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of Fluttershy’s snout. He glanced at Sunset, whose snout hung similarly agape. For one brief moment, the two were united in questioning whether the creature known as Discord was still working his bizarre reality-warping magic upon them. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” Fluttershy said. “The five of us are safe. We made it out but there are still hundreds of ponies trapped in Bridle Rock. They’re suffering in there. And what we did is probably going to make life even worse for them. They don’t deserve to be treated like this. We can’t abandon those poor ponies.” Trixie raised her hoof. “Um, excuse you. I’m pretty sure we can.” “Okay, we can. But we shouldn’t.” The fire flickered in her eyes when she turned to Sunset. “I don’t know anything about becoming an alicorn. But if you’re right, then it means we can heal the pain Equestria’s in. Not just for ponies, but for all the creatures who’ve been suffering since the wars started.” “That’s… not untrue….” Sunset Shimmer eyed her suspiciously. There was a trick here. There had to be. Ponies didn’t usually agree with her of their own volition. “Then I want to help you. In fact, if it’s alright with everypony, I have a friend in the Everfree Forest. She might be able to help us contact the Shield of Harmony.” “Wait, what?!” Sunset paled at that suggestion. “No way,” Flash said quickly. “Fluttershy, you can’t be serious.” Sunset grimaced. “Is it too late to change my vote? Because now I’m actually with Jackboots over here.” “Jack Who?” “Look, you’re not going to get it,” Sunset said. “We’ve got a thousand years of peace in our history. But I’ve actually been to other places and I’ve studied this. Hooking up with insane militant rebels never goes well. One way or another, this civil war is ending badly. Either Twilight brings down the iron fist on all of them or Applejack somehow manages to pry the throne away from her. The last thing we want is to throw ourselves into that mess.” “That doesn’t have to be true,” Fluttershy protested. “I thought you hated violence,” Trixie said, raising an eyebrow. “I-I do, but….” Fluttershy stammered. She suddenly realized that all eyes were on her. Everypony looked so stern all of a sudden and their ire radiated in her direction. She looked from Trixie to Flash and shrank into herself. Her heart pounded quickly in her chest. Oh, why did she have to say anything? She should have-- Twilight came up beside Fluttershy, putting a hoof on her side. “It’s okay,” she said soothingly. Two words and a gesture, nothing more. And yet, to Fluttershy, it felt like so much more. It made her feel safe, like she didn’t have to hide. It reminded her of what it felt like to have a friend. This single act of compassion gave her the strength to speak up. “I know these ponies,” she said. “They’ll listen to me and they’ll help us.” She looked at Sunset Shimmer. “They have resources we can use for your ascension. Whatever you need, they can get. And….” “And?” Twilight asked gently. Fluttershy nibbled her lower lip. She didn’t know if it was a good idea to say this next part, but she was already laying it all out there. “They’ll free the prisoners from Bridle Rock,” she said matter-of-factly. “As soon as Applejack finds out where that place is, she’ll put everything she has into making sure that everypony goes free.” “You don’t know that,” Sunset Shimmer asserted. “Yes, I do. And you know it too.” The statement hung in the air. It seemed innocuous enough, but Twilight could feel a profound tension rising in the cave. Fluttershy had challenged Sunset Shimmer. She might not have realized she was doing it, but that was exactly what she was doing. Twilight readied herself to intervene if-- “You’re right,” Sunset said. “She probably would.” “Oh, in a heartbeat,” Trixie agreed. Flash nodded. “Without question.” …what just happened? “But that wouldn’t be right,” Flash argued. “Fluttershy, I know you feel for them. I get that. But those ponies are criminals. They belong in Bridle Rock. We’re not talking about upstanding citizens of Equestria. These ponies are thieves and con artists and Celestia knows what else.” “And I’m a traitor to the throne,” Fluttershy said sternly. “That’s different,” Flash said, pressing his hoof to his face. Of course it was this argument again. He never won this argument. “I know why you hate them,” Fluttershy said. She approached Flash, using her foreleg to pry his hoof away. “It’s not easy watching everything we believed in fall apart around us. I’m hurting too. But you’re wrong. You’ve always been wrong. You feel guilty about what happened to me because you were there and helped make it happen. But you’ve never looked at the bigger picture. You don’t think about what’s happening to Equestria. You only think about me.” “Fluttershy….” “Maybe the same thing that happened to me is happening to other ponies.” Trixie added, “Maybe ‘criminal’ doesn’t have the same meaning under a Princess as insane and cruel as Twilight Sparkle.” She tossed a sideways glance to Twilight. “Uh, no offense.” Twilight glowered. More barbs. That wasn’t going away any time soon. “I can’t let anything happen to you,” Flash pleaded. Fluttershy’s eyes remained as full of concern and compassion as ever. Flash felt as if he could get lost in them forever. “Fluttershy, you mean a lot to me. More than you know. You gave me something to believe in after—” “I know, Flash,” Fluttershy whispered. “No, you don’t. I need to tell you--” “Flash, I know,” Fluttershy said again. She looked down at his foreleg still clasped in hers. Apologetically, she explained, “My rats have ears. Nothing happens in Bridle Rock that I don’t know about.” “Oh.” Flash’s eyes widened with revelation. Fluttershy’s spies were everywhere. They brought her information from across the prison on who was hungry, who had been hurt, and who needed help. The ramifications of that had never settled in until now. “I’m flattered that you care so much for me,” Fluttershy said. “I really am. Nopony’s ever… That’s not important.” She shook her head, trying to avoid getting distracted. “Flash, listen to me. I can’t be your reason to live. Please don’t ask me to. Don’t pin all of your hopes for the future on me.” That was not the answer Flash had been hoping for. Stunned, he stammered out, “But I believe in you.” “You shouldn’t,” she said definitively. “I don’t even believe in me. But I have to believe that there is still good in this world. We can find that good if we’re willing to look.” “You’re not going to find it here,” Flash said. “Not with Applejack and her kind. And if you go down that road, then you won’t find it with me, either. I can’t betray Equestria. Not even for you.” Trixie raised her hoof. “Uh, didn’t you plan a jailbreak?” “That’s not the same!” Flash shouted. His eyes glistened as his voice echoed off the walls of the cave. Were those tears? “Look, desertion is one thing. I can live with being the pony who ran away. But I swore an oath when I put on this suit for the first time. I swore that I would defend Equestria. I made that oath to Princess Celestia.” The cave fell deathly silent. Even now, there was power in the name that Flash had just spoken. It changed the very atmosphere of the cave. Even Sunset Shimmer seemed affected by the gloom the infiltrated the conversation. Without another word, she turned away from the fire and rolled up her bedroll, refusing to even look at anypony. “I can’t keep fighting for the Acting Princess,” Flash said. “I know that. After everything I’ve seen, I could never go back. But if you ask me to raise arms against Equestria, then you’re asking me to spit in the face of everything she held dear. I could never desecrate her memory that way.” Fluttershy looked as though she wanted to say something, but she struggled with herself to get it out. She opened her snout to speak, but then quietly shut it again. Twilight gave her an urging rub to her shoulder. When Fluttershy glanced her way, she said simply, “Go on.” “Flash,” Fluttershy said carefully. Her words came out slowly, as if each one was a battle just to say it. “You. Don’t. Have. To come.” Twilight could feel Flash’s heart break. The pain on his face was so palpable. All at once, she was standing in that field at Sweet Apple Acres once more, listening to Applejack tear out her heart. Her own heart cracked in half alongside his. In this moment, she and Flash Sentry truly were kindred spirits. “Fluttershy,” he whispered. “Please. No.” Twilight felt an ache in her heart, watching him withdraw into himself. This was not at all how she’d imagined his feelings for Fluttershy would turn out. Love was supposed to win out, wasn’t it? If he loved her, then shouldn’t that be enough? “Applejack, please! For once, I need you to support me!” No, of course, it wasn’t. How could it be? She couldn’t argue with Fluttershy’s decision. How could a pony be with somepony that didn’t even agree with her values? She knew that Flash meant well. Of course, he did. But if he couldn’t even see eye to eye to her, then what kind of relationship could they even have? What kind of relationship did she have? But that was what this reality was. It was cold. It was mean. And nothing ever worked out. It was so terribly broken that there might not even be a way back. It was so far gone from the Equestria that she knew and loved, and not for the first time, she considered that it might just be beyond salvation. She wanted to believe that. It would be so easy to believe that. To just give up on this place and these ponies, and to refocus her efforts on getting home. But there was something that nagged at her in the back of her mind. Something about what Flash said about Princess Celestia wasn’t sitting right. And she wasn’t entirely sure of what it might mean, but she could not in good conscience keep it to herself. “Once upon a time,” Twilight said, filling the silence that permeated the cave. “In a world far away from here, Princess Celestia asked me to perform a task for her. She said that it was very important and that it would help save Equestria. But she also said that it was a test. She gave me one very specific instruction: no matter what happened, I had to do it alone. It was my test and I was to complete it myself.” Twilight looked around the fire to see that everypony was now focused on her. Even Sunset Shimmer by the far wall had ceased piling canned goods from Flash’s shelves into a sack and was looking her direction. Twilight noticed the cavernous floor was slick with a few drops of moisture that glistened in the flame’s crackle, painting a trail towards where Sunset stood. “So I tried,” Twilight continued. “I tried everything I could think of. I did everything in my power to complete the task, but I wasn’t strong enough alone. I wanted to make her proud, but without my friends, I couldn’t do it. I’d failed and I knew that I failed, but Equestria was still in danger. Even if I had to give up on what Princess Celestia wanted for me, I realized it would be worth it so long as the ponies of Equestria never had to know the kind of terror that my failure would bring. So I broke the rules. I asked a friend to help me and together, we were able to save Equestria.” Twilight saw Flash leaning forward, hanging on her every word. “What did she say?” he asked. “I thought that she’d be mad, but she wasn’t. She was elated. She said that I’d done well. I couldn’t believe it; I’d broken the rules. I thought for certain that she was going to send me back to Magic Kindergarten. Instead, she told me that it was better for me to understand the value of self-sacrifice than to be the kind of pony who only looks out for herself.” “That’s just like her,” Sunset Shimmer said. She closed her eyes and turned away quickly. Then, after a couple seconds, she crammed her sack more forcefully than she had before. Twilight looked Flash in the eyes. “When I went back to Canterlot, I felt like I’d betrayed her. But the truth is, she never really cared about the rules. She never has. What she cared about was knowing that I would be the kind of pony who would protect this kingdom from harm in whatever form it takes by whatever means I had to. It’s not the throne or the castle or the oaths that make Equestria. None of that really matters to her. It’s her love for each and every pony that makes her Princess Celestia.” “She’s right,” Fluttershy said, approaching Flash. “Equestria is more than its Princess. It’s about the spirit of kindness and goodwill that exists between us. We’ve all heard the story of the First Hearth’s Warming. This kingdom was built on a foundation of harmony between ponies. Somewhere along the way, we lost that spirit. It was taken from us by years of constant fighting. It was taken by violence. It was taken by fear.” She reached out, taking Flash’s hoof with her own once more. “I’m not asking you to betray Princess Celestia. I’m asking you to help me find that spirit again.” For the first time, Flash didn’t answer right away. He didn’t simply concede the argument when he knew he’d been beaten. Instead, Fluttershy could see him considering Twilight’s and her words. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that she’d never seen before. She gently squeezed his hoof, affirming that she was there for him. Finally, Flash said, “I think I can do that.” His eyes opened more fully than she’d ever seen him. He stood straighter, letting go of the slouch he’d always worn when wandering the halls of Bridle Rock. There was an unfamiliar hope in his voice as sincerity crept into his smile. He looked into Fluttershy’s eyes and spoke with a renewed sense of strength and vigor. “You’re right,” Flash reiterated confidently. “You’ve been right all along. Equestria is supposed to be a place where ponies are free to love and cherish one another. That’s what she believed in. It’s what she died for. We let our fear change the fabric of who we are. We were so afraid of what might happen that we gave up on our way of life. And we never even noticed that we were doing it.” Fluttershy smiled. At long last, Flash was starting to understand. “Will you help me find the good in Equestria?” Before he could answer, Sunset Shimmer sharply interjected. “If you ladies are finished giving out hugs, I’m done packing up the cave. We’re burning daylight and I might have to vomit on one of you if I stay here any longer.” Twilight blinked. “You mean you might wind up vomiting on one of us?” “No. That would imply that it’s not a deliberate choice.” Flash smiled. “Yeah, I think we’re done here.” To Fluttershy, he said, “I’ll do it. If it means bringing an end to Bridle Rock, then I’ll follow you to the ends of Equestria. I think she’d be proud of that.” To Twilight, he turned awkwardly. He stumbled internally, wrestling with himself over the proper way to address her, then settled on a quick bow. “Thank you, your majesty.” Twilight’s first instinct was to protest the terminology, but something stopped her. She found a strange sense of pride in those words. For the first time, they felt truly earned. To this point, her wings had caused her no end of trouble. She remembered Discord’s teasing, Sunset Shimmer’s antagonism, Applejack’s bizarre reverse-abandonment issues, and the repeated ire she’d received in this reality. Becoming an Alicorn Princess had added nothing but grief to her life. But standing here in this moment, she could only see how far she had truly come. Flash was ready to walk away forever. He might even have left Equestria altogether, just like he’d wanted to do. And yet together, she and Fluttershy had done more than just convinced him to stay. They’d inspired him. That was something amazing about that feeling. It warmed her heart in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. So she didn’t protest. She didn’t tell him that it felt weird to hear that or ask him to call her something different. She didn’t allow herself feel guilty out of some misplaced humility. Instead, she merely said, “You’re welcome,” and gave a slight bow of the head the way she’d seen Princess Celestia do many times before. “So,” Flash said, taking a deep breath. “Applejack?” “Applejack,” Fluttershy said affirmatively. Standing by the cave entrance with a bag slung over her back, Sunset Shimmer cleared her throat. “Aww, it’s so sweet that you made up. But you’re all forgetting one thing. I’m the pony who calls the shots around here, and I’m not about to let you drag me into their mess.” “This is what we decided on,” Fluttershy replied. “You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.” “I don’t think you heard me clearly,” Sunset replied. She let her bag fall to the floor beside her and took slow, deliberate steps in Fluttershy’s direction. Twilight moved quickly, putting herself between them. “Well, aren’t you so very noble?” “We made our decision,” Twilight stated. “If you have a better idea, we’ll listen. But we make these choices as a group. That’s how it works.” Sunset scowled. “Look at you. You’re so tough now that the magic’s back. What are you going to do? Zap me with your alicorn spells?” In no uncertain terms, Twilight said, “If you walk away from this or raise a hoof against anypony in this cave, you will never be an alicorn.” Stunned, Sunset Shimmer asked, “Are you threatening me?” “It’s a statement of fact. Consider this your first lesson. Honesty. Generosity. Laughter. Loyalty. Kindness. Magic. If you ever want to become an alicorn, then these six virtues are what you need to take in and internalize. You have to embrace them as a part of yourself. There’s no trick here, Sunset. There’s no spell or ritual that will make you an alicorn. It has to be earned. You need to make yourself into the kind of pony who would be an alicorn.” Sunset glowered. Nopony ever talked to her this way. But Twilight was beginning to think it was long past time. “I thought you said it was a spell.” “I said that I cast a spell,” Twilight corrected. “But that was my final test. The spell didn’t make me an alicorn. Its magic was only a catalyst. The time I spent taking the six virtues of Harmony into my heart, that’s what made me an alicorn.” “So now I have to do what? Mindlessly serve whatever these ponies want?” “Your friends are asking you for help,” Twilight told her. “By refusing them, you’re showing disloyalty. By refusing to listen, you’re being ungenerous. And with the threats and insults you’ve been throwing around, you’ve been completely unkind. I can show you the path, Sunset Shimmer, but you have to be the one who takes it. The road you’re on right now will never lead there.” “Is that right?” Sunset Shimmer rose up as tall as she could. She stepped forward, getting as much in Twilight’s face as she could manage. “Are you saying you’re better than me?” “I would never say that,” Twilight replied. She refused to rise and try to stand taller than Sunset. She wouldn’t allow herself to be baited like that. Instead, she visibly fluffed her wings so that the motion would be impossible to miss. “I don’t have to.” Tension filled the air. Twilight held eye contact with Sunset Shimmer and braced herself. In the back of her mind, she prepared to cast her barrier. It would not have surprised her in the least if Sunset responded with violence. “Tch.” Instead, to Twilight’s relief, Sunset Shimmer looked away. “Fine. Whatever. In my great Generosity, I’ll let you have your stupid idea. But all of you better remember our deal.” She trotted back towards the front of the cave. “I’ll be ready to accept everypony’s apologies just as soon as this blows up in your faces.” “Noted,” Flash said with a nod. “Can we go now?!” Trixie whined. “I don’t really care where we go as long as it isn’t here.” She stood near the edge of the cave, still bundled up like a poofy hermit. “Do you want to grab a bag?” Flash asked, jerking his head at the packs Sunset had made. “Twilight has alicorn magic,” Trixie answered. “Shouldn’t she deal with the luggage?” “Wait, what?!” “No, she has a point,” Sunset Shimmer said with a malevolent grin. “Trixie’s so smart and clever. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and…something.” “What happened to Generosity?” Twilight asked. “Oh, that’s so thirty seconds ago. I’m doing Loyalty right now. I’m showing Loyalty to Trixie by making you carry the bags!” “That’s not--” “Honestly? Bite me.” With those words, Sunset followed Trixie out to the carriage. From inspirational leader to work horse. Twilight sighed. This was going to be a long trip. “I’m sorry about that,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sure in your world, she’s probably really nice?” “No, she’s not that different from what I remember,” Twilight admitted. “I guess some ponies don’t change m--” She slapped her forehead. “I just got that.” “What?” “Diamondguy is the twin. Diamondgleam isn’t my step-sister and somehow also my twin. She’s my step-sister who is a twin. My twin step-sister. It’s a trick of the language!” Despite herself, Twilight laughed at the absurdity. “At least that's one thing that makes sense in all of this!” “…if, um... if you say so.” The sound of heavy hooffalls tromping on crystal signaled the approach to Shining Armor’s office. He set aside the intelligence report that had occupied his attention for the better part of the afternoon just in time for a decorated member of the Royal Guard to march into Shining Armor’s office. The pony stopped just in front of Shining Armor’s desk and saluted. “Captain Silverpride reporting, sir.” Shining Armor rose from a red velvet cushion behind his mahogany desk and returned the salute. Then, leaving the Captain standing, he sat back down. Sternly, he asked, “Can you explain yourself, Captain?” “If you’ve brought me here to answer for yesterday’s events, then I am afraid I cannot, sir,” the Captain replied. “What happened in Bridle Rock defies explanation. With the binding spells in place, no unicorn among the prisoners was capable of performing such magic. My stallions and I have been very diligent in ensuring that every unicorn passes through those gates each day. The mysterious changeling has done so as well. What occurred is simply not possible by any measure I can imagine. Permission to speak freely?” “Denied.” Shining Armor placed a hoof on his desk, just beside the folder. “I’m not stupid, Captain. I understand how inexplicable yesterday’s events were. Nopony could have been prepared for what happened. We would never hold you accountable for that.” “Thank you, sir,” the Captain replied. “But the breakout is a different story. Three high-profile prisoners and whoever this ‘Trixie Lulamoon’ is supposed to be have escaped from custody. They never should have even been out of their cells. That’s a problem for us, Captain.” “I’m aware, sir.” “I don’t think you are.” Shining Armor opened the folder, revealing the paperwork within. A black and white photograph of Flash Sentry was clipped to the top page. “I’ve been looking through your paperwork. These requests exploded in size after Sentry started filling them out. Do you have an explanation for that?” The Captain cleared his throat nervously. “These are renegade actions by a rogue agent. Flash Sentry has been visibly disgruntled since he arrived at Bridle Rock. He turns up late for his shifts and shows flagrant disrespect for his uniform and his post. It would appear that he’s been working with the prisoner Fluttershy to coordinate this breakout. I understand your frustration, but this was all the work of one lone wolf. It will not happen again.” “It should never have happened in the first place,” Shining Armor criticized. “A pony under your command went native with a prisoner and has since conspired to undermine everything that we’re trying to achieve. That sounds to me like a failure of leadership. I expected more from a pony of your stature.” “Sir. Permission to speak freely?” the Captain tried again. “Denied. You had one job in Bridle Rock: to ensure that not one of those ponies ever threatens the safety, stability, or happiness in Equestria again. You have not delivered on that expectation. You may return to your post for the time being, but I’m recommending for your command be pulled pending a more thorough investigation. It’s time to find out exactly what’s been happening in Bridle Rock.” Stunned, the Captain stammered, “Sir—” “You’re dismissed.” Captain Silverpride exchanged a second salute with Shining Armor. Without another word, he turned and left. “Explain it to me again,” Twilight said. “The door turned to liquid?” She had invited Rarity and Shining Armor into her library sanctum for the sake of Shining Armor’s debriefing. Shining Armor stood at attention in front of her chair while Rarity opted to stand to her side. Above them, the stone visage of Princess Celestia towered, just as she always did in this special room. “It still looked like a door,” Shining Armor said. “But ponies floated through it like it was made of water.” “Floated because you said the gravity had been turned off somehow,” Twilight observed. “And also spears turned into snakes. Was there anything else?” “The lights were flashing multiple colors. I’ve never seen Illumigems do that before.” “That’s because they don’t,” Rarity iterated. “The stones produce a variety of different colors, but never more than one at a time. It is simply not possible. Are you quite certain it was the stones creating this light?” “I saw it with my own eyes. So did every Guardpony in the base.” “This is impossible,” Twilight said bluntly. “I know it is, Twily. But it’s the truth. I can’t explain what I saw, but it’s what happened.” “I believe you.” Twilight softly pressed her nose against her brother’s, crossing his horn with hers. She lingered for a few seconds. It helped her to center herself and find her balance. She reminded herself that despite every sacrifice, every betrayal, every loss, there was still good in Equestria. If nothing else, her true family would never abandon her. That was a truth that needed to be defended at all costs. Pulling out of her brother’s embrace, Twilight continued. “Everything you’ve described is impossible. Literally impossible. Even ignoring the fact that none of the prisoners could have cast those spells, the effects themselves are not metaphysically sound. There are no spells that could have done something like that. It’s not how magic works.” “But what else could it be?” Rarity asked. “This is that changeling,” Twilight said confidently. “There’s no other explanation.” She hated that particular mystery more and more with each passing day. “She’s been inexplicable since we found her. The fact that she can even cast unicorn spells in the first place is unheard of. She’s a terrible impersonator but she….” Twilight stopped. Staring into space, her eyes slowly widened, watching the pieces fall into place. “Dearest?” Rarity asked. “You’re doing it again.” “She’s not a poor impersonator,” Twilight whispered excitedly. “She wanted to be caught!” She threw open her journal, leafing through her notes. After a few seconds, she looked back up at Shining Armor. The initial enthusiasm for cracking the puzzle faded into horrified realization. Her good eye glimmered with panic. A bright orange glow slipped out through the crack in her horn. “Bring everypony in. I want a complete lockdown. Put eyes on the ground and in the sky in every direction. I want search parties for miles around. Nopony goes home until this creature’s found!” Rarity glanced from Shining Armor back to Twilight. Her eyes locked on the shimmer coming out of her wife’s damaged horn. She’d long since learned to dread the sight of that glow. It always signaled when Twilight had stopped thinking clearly. “Dearest?” she said again, this time in a soothing voice. “Twilight. Darling. What are we dealing with?” “I don’t know yet, but she’s clever,” Twilight admitted. “She set us up like we were foals and we walked right into it!” Her voice reeked of desperation. “She wanted us to send her to Bridle Rock. That’s where she needed to be. She was trying to break into the Vault, and we were all too happy to accommodate her! She must have taken something or used something. This was a trap. That means nopony’s safe until we understand the nature of it.” Twilight put a hoof against Rarity’s shoulder, looking into her eyes. “I need you to think carefully. The fate of all Equestria is at stake. We can’t afford a single mistake. She was impersonating me for the better part of a day; did she say anything or do anything out of the ordinary? Something that might reveal her intentions?” “Oh, she was rambling quite a lot,” Rarity replied. “Nothing she said quite seemed to make much sense, though.” “Proper nouns,” Twilight replied. “Did she mention anything or anypony by name?” “There were a scant few names, but not one that made any sense. She mentioned a Tom. She was looking for Tom or mad at Tom, I can’t quite recall.” “Tom?” Twilight tried out the word. It didn’t sound like a pony name, but that didn’t preclude it from being a pet or artifact or possibly some other creature entirely. “Might be an abbreviation,” Shining Armor suggested. “Or maybe an acronym? It could stand for something like the Titanic Oven Mitt.” Twilight considered. “Have the Guard look through the census registry,” she ordered. “Pull out any names that seem like they might be a Tom. We’ll work from there.” She looked to Rarity. “Do you remember anything else?” “There was one other name but it was rather unorthodox. She mentioned a Dis…something. She was rambling quite a lot and I wasn’t really following, I’m afraid. Discredit? Discotheque?” A chill ran down Twilight’s spine. She froze in place, jaw hanging open. Suddenly, it all fit. She knew exactly what the changeling had taken from the Vault. The pieces of the puzzle all hung in view, each blaring an image she was afraid to assemble. Her heart seemed to cease its thumping and her voice struggled to find air. In shock, she whispered, “Discord.” “Oh, yes! That was it! Eeyech.” Rarity shivered. “What a ghastly name.” “Twily?” Shining Armor pressed his hoof to her shoulder, pulling her back to reality. “Does that name mean something to you?” “Yes and no.” Twilight looked up at the monument to her mentor. Princess Celestia loomed overhead, casting her shadow over everypony. “She never told me the full story, but over a thousand years ago, Princess Celestia saved Equestria from a creature named Discord. She said that his magic was strange and terrible in ways that our own study of magic couldn’t even begin to explain.” “Strange feats of magic that nopony can explain,” Shining Armor mused. “Yep, that checks out.” “There used to be a statue of him centuries ago, but something happened to it. She said that with the statue broken, it wouldn’t be possible for him to ever return. But also that he had a history of defying possibility, so she locked the pieces away in the Canterlot vaults just to be safe.” “And we sent them to Bridle Rock,” Rarity concluded, finishing Twilight’s train of thought. “Of course. This can only be Discord’s work. But why now? Why would Chrysalis--” “She wouldn’t,” Shining Armor stated with certainty. “This isn’t her.” Rarity looked up at him. “Are you certain?” “Chrysalis had control of the vault for two years. If she was going to do something with the pieces, she would have done it then. She never laid a hoof on him then. Why would she now?” “Applejack,” Twilight said. Heat seemed to radiate off her body from rage as she said the name. The crack in her horn glowed brighter, bathing a portion of the room in golden light. “This is her. It has to be.” “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Rarity scoffed. “I’d never even heard of this Discord creature until today! How would she even….” Rarity drifted off. As her eyes studied Twilight’s features, they drifted across the terrible scars along her eye and neck. The answer was literally written into the Acting Princess’s face. “Spike.” Shining Armor had gotten there as well, it seemed. “How did I miss this?!” Twilight asked. She hated herself for being so naïve. Of course, Spike would have told Applejack every secret he’d ever gleaned from Princess Celestia. She’d be armed with every scrap of secret history and arcane knowledge that had ever been taught to Twilight. And there was no line she wouldn’t cross in her quest to destroy Equestria and everything in it. “It has to be her. She’s not working with Chrysalis; she’s working with Discord! She has no idea what she’s about to unleash!” Disparagingly, she added, “She probably thinks he’ll want to be friends!” Shining Armor stood at attention. “Orders, your highness?” “Same plan as before. I want a full lockdown. Triple the guard. Pull ponies in from the Canterlot and Appleoosa outposts if you have to. Applejack won’t rest until she’s taken us all away in chains and burned this city to the ground, and now she might have the means to do it.” “Darling, listen to yourself,” Rarity pleaded. “Why would she do that?” “Because she’s evil,” Twilight retorted. “I knew her for years. She’s stubborn and a bit rough around the edges, but I can’t imagine she’d….” Twilight stood tall under Princess Celestia’s shadow. She looked Rarity straight in the eyes and spoke with a voice free from doubt. “I made a promise to Princess Celestia that I will defend Equestria from anyone.” “I know, Dearest. But I just can’t imagine her going to such--” “Are you with me?” Silence fell over the library. Shining Armor took the opportunity to find something interesting to look at around the next bookshelf over. Rarity could see the righteousness in Twilight’s eyes. She could feel the confidence and self-assurance coming from her, and in a strange way, it comforted her even now. After a few seconds, she answered, “Of course, I am,” and said nothing more. With Rarity’s concerns alleviated, Shining Armor asked, “What are we going to tell Pinkie Pie about all this?” “Nothing,” Twilight answered. “Bridle Rock is the best-kept secret in Equestria. If our scouts can find the escaped prisoners, then nopony ever has to know about this. I’ll be here, researching everything I can about Discord and this creature he’s made.” Musing, she added, “It’s likely some kind of contingency plan meant to take effect if he was defeated.” Rarity perked up. “But darling, what about the flower festival that’s coming up? Everypony’s expecting you to give the commencement speech.” Twilight recoiled from Rarity in horror. “We don’t have time for speeches! There’s a force of pure evil coming to destroy us all! And she’s made a pact with Discord!” “You can’t keep blowing things off like this!” Rarity pleaded. “Those ponies out there need their Princess. They need to see you, Twilight.” “No, they need to be protected. They need to be safe. Those ponies out there are alive because of me. They’re able to have flower festivals and eat cake and make friends and whatever else they do because of me. So why don’t you go to the festival and I’ll stay here and make sure there’s still an Equestria tomorrow.” “I….” Rarity wanted to argue the point, but she knew there was no winning when Twilight was like this. “Very well. I’ll give them your regards.” She shared a quick glance with Shining Armor. His sympathy was a small consolation but welcome all the same. Then she exited the library with him, leaving her wife to study. As soon as the room was empty, Twilight looked up at the statue of her mentor. Even from this hollow reproduction, Princess Celestia beamed with a grace and wisdom that couldn’t be matched. “I don’t know how you did it for so many years,” Twilight confessed. “They just don’t understand. None of them do. I have a kingdom to lead! I have to protect Equestria. What does it matter if I don’t show up and smile every now and then?” As always, the statue said nothing. In the presence of its silence, Twilight always felt very small.