"I will never know how you've managed to remain so calm in recent days, Tia."
Celestia smiled as she levitated a pastry onto her plate before gazing at her sister across the breakfast table on what would be a late Thursday morning on Earth. "Perhaps I am simply a good actress."
Luna snorted. "Need I remind you of the little fiasco that was your first and hopefully only attempt to be in a play?"
Celestia levitated a cup of steaming tea to her lips and took a sip. "Maybe I invested in some acting lessons since then."
Luna raised an eyebrow.
Celestia lowered her cup. "Or I could have simply had a lot of practice remaining calm before human representatives when they frustrate me on occasion."
"Ah, good, I'm not the only one."
"But there are some bright spots." Celestia poured a second cup of tea from the teapot and slid it across the table towards her sister. "Try this, if you would."
Luna eyed the steaming tea for a moment before her horn glowed, and the cup rose to her lips. She sniffed, hesitated, then took a sip.
"What do you think?" Celestia asked.
"Well, it's certainly different," said Luna. "What exactly is it?"
"Earl Grey." Celestia took another sip of her own tea. "Courtesy of the ambassador of the United Kingdom."
"Hrm." Luna took another sip, then set the cup down. "It's still not good enough to make me a tea drinker. Give me good coffee any day."
Celestia chuckled, though her eyes took on a wistful look. "Perhaps I am being a bit harsh concerning the humans. They are dealing with a very difficult situation."
"If you ask me, they've been dragging their feet a bit too much."
"In a way, they are a little like me, wishing that things would somehow return to the way they were."
"That's dangerous thinking, Tia."
Celestia shook her head. "I am under no illusions that they ever will, but I cannot help but think it sometimes. Perhaps it will help me understand humans more if I try to think as they do."
"You at least don't have ponies worshiping you," Luna muttered.
Celestia tilted her head. "I thought the Lunites saw you simply as a divine avatar."
"That's bad enough," Luna declared. "I don't want to be known as a divine anything. Having ponies worship me was the foolish notion I had as Nightmare Moon." She added in a lower voice, "And then there was the night pony who considered taking that name. That was a conversation I didn't want to have."
"Now that you mention it, how has your dream walking training been going?" Celestia asked.
Luna averted her eyes. "Uh, not sure what you mean."
Celestia took a bite of her pastry. Having dealt with representatives from so many Earth governments over the past few months had given her an appreciation for moments like this. Dealing with a secret her sister should not be keeping was foal's play compared to what she experienced with the humans.
By no means did she consider the humans hostile; the ones who came to her were well-versed in the art of polite discourse. It was more that they appeared to make what should be simple needlessly complex. She suspected some of the fault lay with her as she still struggled to understand how human society worked.
"Come now, dear sister," said Celestia. "I know you well enough. It is hard to keep you from doing something you believe is right."
Luna paused a long moment before meeting her sister's gaze. "Well, technically, they only asked me to stop. It wasn't really a demand."
"True."
"How long have you known?"
Celestia paused to take another bite of pastry. "For a few months now." She nudged the plate towards Luna. "And do try these, they're courtesy of the ambassador from France. Simply scrumptious, if you ask me."
"Never mind the pastries," said Luna. "If you knew I was doing this, why didn't you ask me to stop? You're very sensitive about doing anything that could be seen as violating the various treaties we have with Earth governments."
"Because I need that insight into pony society on Earth," Celestia said. "It's the only thing that will really tell me how they are doing."
"Most of my insight comes from the fears that play out in their nightmares."
"And what do they fear?"
"Do you have a few hours to spare?"
"The highlights, please," said Celestia.
"To sum it up, many fear they will not be allowed to live as they want," Luna explained. "Even those ponies who chose to work alongside humans and reintegrate themselves into Earth society sometimes fear for the well-being of themselves and their families."
Celestia nodded slightly, lost in thought.
"Something has to happen, Tia," Luna declared. "Something has to break the deadlock."
"You sound a little like the nobles," said Celestia in a neutral voice. "They've been agitating for me to declare a protectorate over the ponies of Earth and bring them under our nominal rule."
"Yes, they've been petitioning me with the same demands at Night Court."
Celestia paused at her sister's tone, her cup of tea levitated halfway to her lips. "And what did you tell them?"
Luna hesitated before responding, "I told them I would take it under advisement."
Celestia set down her cup and sighed. "Luna--"
"They have a point!" Luna cried. "The nightmares the night ponies of Earth have told me about most recently are centered around losing their homes and the communities they've built. That tells me the humans have already started to relocate ponies into the so-called homestead lands."
"I've already requested that they suspend those activities in light of recent developments."
"And that's another thing," Luna continued. "I've also learned of ponies' good dreams. Many of them are putting their hopes into the Pony Council. Even the Shimmerists are hoping something will come out of it, even though many of them would prefer to remain separate from humans."
"Not to put too fine a point on it, dear sister," said Celestia. "But that appears to be what you are suggesting yourself by entertaining the nobles' notions."
"Yes, and I know it plays right into Shimmerist sentiment," Luna said with a sigh. "Just how much trouble are the nobles giving you?"
"Enough that some of the humans are concerned there will be a, ah, what did they call it? A palace coup, yes."
Luna's pupils shrank.
"It's not going to happen, of course," said Celestia.
"That's not the point! Why would the humans even think that could happen?" Luna asked.
"It's happened on their own world countless times." Celestia picked up her cup of tea, paused, and set it down without touching its remaining contents. "I am not so much afraid of what the nobles would do to us as I am what they will do to Earth. I fear they have something in the works to further their aims." She cast a sad gaze at Luna. "I must admit, I am unsure of what to do."
"You can silence them," said Luna in a flat voice. "By edict, of course. They would have to respect it."
"Yes, at the risk of appearing like some sort of tyrant who silences all dissent." Celestia paused. "And alienating my own sister."
"What gives you the idea I--"
Celestia held up a hoof. "I know that tone of voice, when you want to disagree with me but don't have the right words to express it."
"It's not that I want to see the ego of the nobles expand any further than they already have, but as I said, they have a point," said Luna. "Were we in charge of the ponies of Earth, we could better ensure their safety and well-being, and allow them to have access to the magic that is their right as free ponies, and ensure that they use their magic responsibly."
"Yes, it would make some things easier," Celestia said. "But at the expense of antagonizing many Earth governments. There is also something else that I'm not sure you are taking into consideration."
"And what's that?" Luna said in a dubious voice.
"The ponies of Earth are not quite like the ponies of Equestria."
"Yes, I know, their herd instinct has been increased," said Luna. "All the more reason they may need firmer guidance. Twilight mentioned it will likely decrease in successive generations, that Sunset used it as a stopgap because of the sheer number of beings she was dealing with."
"It's not just that," said Celestia. "We must never lose sight of the fact that they were molded into what they are now. This is not what is supposed to be natural for them. When some humans refer to them as 'brainwashed', they have a point."
Luna tilted her head. "Isn't that point moot by now?"
"Not necessarily. They have millions of fellow beings who -- almost literally overnight -- started to think in ways radically different from their brethren. We cannot act as if we have a right to rule over them; they are ponies, but not our ponies."
"I understand," said Luna. "But the reality of the situation is still with us whether we like it or not. From what I have gleaned from their dreams, they have started to integrate that 'brainwashing' in ways that I don't think Sunset ever anticipated. They're taking what Sunset gave them and making it their own."
Celestia nodded. "We can debate this all we want, but ultimately, it is not our decision to make. It is for Twilight to decide."
"Would that include the nobles' proposal?"
Celestia stared her cup for a long moment. Tea had started out as a nice addition to breakfast so long ago, but now it held a deeper meaning. So many problems -- whether it be with her sister, or her various pupils in magic she has had over the centuries, or even a particularly pesky nephew -- could often be solved over an informal cup of tea. She had tried the same technique with many human representatives to mixed results.
Celestia lifted her gaze. "Twilight deserves to hear all sides of the debate, including theirs. I will write a letter to her."
"There is something else you should know," Luna said. "I don't know how reliable this is, as it comes from bits and pieces of dreams, but there is a possibility that advanced magic is already being disseminated to the ponies of Earth."
Celestia sat up straighter. "By whom?"
"I do not know as yet. It could be just some of their unicorns coming up with new spells on their own."
"I certainly hope that is the case, for it would relieve a burden from us," said Celestia. "We could point out that the humans have no choice but to step up their efforts in acceptance of pony magic."
"But it could also mean somepony from Equestria is helping them," said Luna.
Celestia smiled faintly. "And if that is the case, would you prefer that I look the other way?"
"I know you can't."
"Which doesn't quite answer the question." Celestia lowered her gaze. "But I won't insist on an answer. We have a great deal of security in place. The humans even more so at their end."
"They can't stop everything," said Luna. "All it would take would be one disaffected pony who feels the same as the nobles do. Or a pony wanting to make a name for themselves in being known as the one who brought proper magic to the 'poor' ponies of Earth." Luna narrowed her eyes. "Like Prince Blueblood."
"Which is why none of the nobles have been granted permission to traverse the portal, nor ever will."
"A pony of Blueblood's resources could attempt it by proxy."
"Yes, you're right," said Celestia with a sigh. "I will also send a missive to Starlight. She is due to return to Earth soon to lead another set of magic lessons. She already knows of some ponies there who are more advanced and can better judge whether they came upon it themselves or were assisted in some manner."
"I for one hope as you do, that they came upon it themselves," said Luna. "Though with human sentiment the way it is, we would likely have a hard time convincing them."
Twilight Sparkle rushed into her office in the Equestrian embassy in Washington DC for the first time that Thursday with Spike jogging along behind her. She looked towards the woman seated at the desk in the reception area and smiled. "Good mor ... er ..." She glanced at the clock, which stood at just a few minutes before noon. "Yes, good morning, Rosalyn."
Rosalyn turned from her monitor and returned the smile. "You're just in time, your noon appointment is waiting for you in your office. How was your flight back from the UK?"
"As good as can be expected," said Twilight. Her horn glowed, and she plucked a brush from her saddlebag and applied it to her mane. "I had to teleport straight here from the airport. If only I had enough power to teleport across the ocean, it would make my job so much easier."
Twilight considered herself Equestria's ambassador to all of Earth, but with the planet divided up into multiple sovereign states, this meant multiple embassies and multiple treaties between Equestria and Earth. Thus she rotated her time between several nations, focusing on those which were hardest hit by ETS and had the greatest proportion of transformed citizens.
"So who is my noon appointment?" asked Twilight.
"Ms. Wendy Rock," said Rosalyn. "Head of the US Department of Rehumanization."
Twilight's ears drew back slightly. "Why did they send her? Did they not get my urgent request for a meeting with an official concerning the Pony Council? It was the reason I cut short my trip to the UK."
"I know, but she said that's why she's here."
Twilight frowned. "Where is Cadance right now?"
"In New York," Rosalyn said. "She's sitting in as an observer at the Security Council concerning a matter of pony settlements in the West Bank. They're debating whether the settlements should be considered part of the overall two-state solution."
"Weren't they debating that two-state thing six months ago?" Spike asked. "You'd think they would've figured it out by now."
"It's a much more complicated situation, Spike," Twilight said. "Rosalyn, please have her contact me as soon as the Security Council meeting is over. Is there anything else I should know before I meet with Ms. Rock?"
Rosalyn picked up a sheet of paper from her desk. "The Russian ambassador to the US stopped by and delivered this message."
Twilight plucked the sheet from Rosalyn's hand in her magic and levitated it before her eyes:
The Russian government wishes to express its support for the plight of the oppressed ponies in the United States and is at your disposal should you require assistance in convincing the United States government to grant them the rights that they deserve as an independent people.
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Twilight cried as she returned the paper to the desk. "Do they seriously think that I'm going to violate the treaty between the Americans and Equestria that easily?"
"It's just political maneuvering," said Rosalyn. "They don't seriously expect you to take them up on it."
Twilight still had to reconcile herself to the fact that despite what she considered a common cause among humanity, old rivalries had not taken long to resurface once the world started to recover. Twilight had to see the message behind the message. Despite human distrust of magic, they could see its potential. In Twilight's opinion, the first nation to successfully meld magic with technology would redefine the word "superpower."
What the Russian ambassador was really saying was that they would not accept a United States armed with magic; they would prefer an independent pony nation over that.
"Is there anything else?" Twilight asked, forcing her voice to a more calm tenor.
"There's some breaking news that came in a short time ago," said Rosalyn. "There's been a large spike in pony emigration to the United States."
"Why are they coming here?" Spike asked.
"If I had to guess, it would be the same reasons humans tend to emigrate," said Twilight. "Hoping for something better than what they had before."
"Immigration officials are up in arms about it because they're evading the border patrol," said Rosalyn.
"Well, the pegasi and night ponies I can understand since they can fly, but what of the other tribes?"
"Apparently the strongest fliers can each carry another pony."
"So much for the wall," Spike deadpanned.
"How's this going over on social media?" Twilight asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Pretty much on fire right now." Rosalyn turned her monitor towards Twilight, which displayed a graph of popular topics and memes on the internet. The two top rated tags were #LetPoniesBeFree and #EarthIsForHumans.
Twilight facehoofed. She often marveled at how social media could give her a pulse on the feelings of humanity, but it also exposed their divisions as well. "Thank you. Let me meet with Ms. Rock. Spike, with me, please. I'll need you to take notes."
Spike fetched his pad and a pen from Rosalyn's desk. "Will do!"
Twilight stepped up to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it with a nudge of magic. She gave the smartly-dressed, dark-haired woman seated before her desk a smile. "My apologies for the delay, Ms. Rock, I just got back from the UK and had to be briefed on current events."
"Not at all, Princess," said Wendy, offering her hand, palm facing Twilight.
Twilight could be content that Wendy understood the proper way to do the equivalent of shaking hands with a pony. Twilight touched her hoof to Wendy's palm before taking her seat behind the desk. "I'll get right to the point," said Twilight. "I feel that the recent founding of the Pony Council will force all of us to reconsider our approach to dealing with the transformed population. This is why my government has requested an immediate stop to resettlement into the Homestead Lands. Has that request come through?"
Wendy turned in her seat and crossed one leg over the other as she balanced a tablet PC in her lap. She radiated a confidence and poise that came with many years of political service. "It has. I don't yet know of our formal response, but I do know that the recovery sectors have been ordered to scale back operations. Only areas considered crucial to American economic interests are continuing to move forward."
"What is being done about the representative from the Pony Council? Spike, what was her name again?"
Spike flipped back in his notes. "Um ... Golden Sunshine."
"Thank you," said Twilight. "Where is Miss Sunshine now?"
"She and her cohort Sunrise Storm were directed to the Boulder Command Center facility," said Wendy.
Twilight's ears drew back slightly. "You met her with the military? Why? And did you say Sunrise Storm?"
"Given the incidents of domestic terrorism along the Front Range, we thought it best to intercept them as quickly as possible to provide maximum security," Wendy replied. "And yes, the other member of the delegation is Sunrise Storm."
Twilight should not have been surprised. Concern for the pony who had been closest to Sunset Shimmer in her human form had motivated Twilight to keep tabs on Sunny. Twilight had been relieved to discover Sunny had done well for herself and proud of her for championing the cause of humans and ponies working together for the common good.
"I understand and appreciate the need for security, but a military base is not really the proper setting for diplomacy," Twilight said.
"It was strictly temporary," said Wendy. "They are already being moved to MIDROC in Omaha and should be there by later today. Regional FBI director Matthew Fuller is making arrangements for their arrival."
Twilight nodded slowly. MIDROC -- Midwest Recovery Operations Center -- was the central command center for FBI operations in the Midwest Recovery Sector. She had been briefed on Matthew's assignment to that post about a month prior. "Are there plans for an official from the United States government to meet with her?"
"Not as yet," said Wendy. "My department is still considering its options."
Twilight tilted her head. "Your department? I must admit, I was surprised when I heard you were sent to discuss the matter. Isn't your department more aligned with efforts to rehumanize rather than relations with the transformed?"
"Where we have no specific department to deal with the transformed--"
"Something I have been advocating for a long time now," Twilight said in irritation.
"Yes, your recommendations are well known in that regard," Wendy said. "My point is, we have been rotating the responsibilities concerning discourse with the transformed among several officials, and it was decided in wake of this new development to settle on, at least temporarily, a single department at its head. Since my department has had the most experience in this area, it made sense to place that responsibility with us."
Twilight could have spent hours debating that point. Wendy was well known for her rather focused approach to rehumanization. To her, it was more a given that the transformed should rehumanize and simply had to be guided towards that decision. "What exactly are your options, Ms. Rock?"
"Perhaps it would serve the discussion well to learn what you consider an appropriate response."
Twilight had to consider her words carefully; humans looked for subtleties in such things. It helped to fall back on accepted matters of law. "Article Twelve of the Treaty of Mutual Friendship," Twilight intoned. "Concerning the United States' responsibilities towards the transformed. I quote paragraph two: 'To promote friendship and cooperation between the transformed and the non-transformed'. I cannot think of a more appropriate application of that provision than this."
Wendy's eyes slid across the display of her tablet, likely reading the very same words that Twilight had quoted. "While this is true, and we intend to abide by it, we need to consider the further ramifications of our response."
"What ramifications?" Twilight snapped. "This can't be any more clear!"
"We cannot be placed in a position where we even remotely recognize their sovereignty."
"No one is asking that," said Twilight.
"But in a way, the Pony Council is. Their very existence is a statement that they consider themselves a people apart and deserve recognition of that."
"Give me the bottom line, Ms. Rock," Twilight declared. "What are you recommending as a course of action?"
"Our immediate response? Do nothing."
Twilight stared. "Are you serious?"
"At least until the initial furor on social media has passed."
"I find it better to do things during such furor. It means the people have the issue front and center when it still holds their interest." Twilight took a breath to calm herself. "All right, fine, let's play that game. What about after the furor has passed?"
Spike suddenly belched green fire. Wendy flinched and nearly dropped her tablet. She looked on in alarm, but the fire was already gone, and Spike held a scroll in his claw.
"Apologies, Ms. Rock," said Twilight with a smile. "Surely you were briefed on my assistant's abilities."
"I was, but it is quite another thing to see it in person." Wendy gave them a small smile. "At least the air doesn't smell like brimstone."
"Nah, I don't care for brimstone, it gives me terrible gas," said Spike. "And not just from one end! Boy, the last time that happened, I--"
"Ah, Spike?" Twilight said loudly. "The scroll?"
"Oh, right." Spike started to unroll it.
Twilight turned to Wendy. "Apologies for the interruption. I was expecting a message from Cadance, in which case I'll read it later."
"It's from Princess Celestia," Spike said.
Twilight hesitated, then snatched the scroll from Spike's claws and held it before her:
The situation regarding the nobility is reaching a crisis point. There is every possibility that they will seek to interfere in matters concerning Earth and its ponies. They are adamant in their proposal to provide the ponies of Earth with the option of entering into protectorate status under the Equestrian Diarchy. I have resisted this demand for obvious reasons, but where you are in charge of matters concerning Earth, I thought I would pass this on to you and let you decide where you stand. I will fully support whatever decision you make.
Yours in friendship,
Princess Celestia
"Is there a problem?" Wendy asked.
"Uh, no," Twilight lied, quickly rolling up the scroll and setting it aside. "Please, continue, you were about to say something before we were interrupted."
Wendy nodded slowly, her eyes flicking to the scroll for a moment. "We want to finish the resettlement operations as stipulated in the Limited Pony Homestead Act. That will put us in a better position economically."
"But aren't you trying to have it both ways?" Twilight said. "By placing them in their own designated lands, haven't you already tacitly recognized that they are indeed a people apart?"
Wendy paused. "Is that what you believe, Princess?"
Twilight again realized she had to watch her own words carefully. She was seen as Equestria in microcosm. Even the treaty had established her as the recognized representative of Equestria; the "you" in that question might as well have been "the Equestrian government."
In her first speech she had ever given to a larger human audience, Twilight had wanted to assure the transformed populace that they would be protected from harm, only to come off sounding like Equestria was going to impose its will. Celestia had to scramble to reassure Earth governments that their sovereignty would be respected. Twilight never wanted to make that sort of mistake again.
The humans had a saying: reading between the lines. Celestia would never have mentioned the nobles' proposal in official correspondence unless she or Luna were considering it.
"I'll reiterate what I've said from the start," said Twilight. "I see the ponies as culturally distinct, which is not unlike how many people in your own country are culturally distinct, yet you are all one nation. All I want to see is for you to treat the ponies as such."
Twilight was straying from the script, and from the experience she had gained reading human body language, she could tell Wendy realized it as well. It was considered more appropriate to refer to the ponies as the "transformed" in formal diplomatic discourse.
She pushed on anyway. "I happen to know that the President supports improving relations with ponies," said Twilight. "He should be the one meeting with Miss Sunshine."
"He continues to be an advocate for their rights and fair treatment," said Wendy. "But he also understands how delicate this situation is. He is attempting to placate all sides and has to consider that next year is a presidential election year."
Twilight clopped a fore-hoof on the desk. "I'm getting so tired of hearing about politics! I just want something done! We made progress at first, but it feels like we've gone nowhere in the past few months. I've tried very hard to understand your position. I've gone along with the Homestead Act, even though I felt it fell short and still avoided the question of expanding the magical abilities of the ponies."
Wendy gave Twilight a grave look. "Are you considering a change in stance towards this matter?"
Twilight narrowed her eyes. "What if I am?'
Wendy casually slid her finger down the tablet screen to scroll back in her electronic copy of the treaty. "Article Three: 'Equestria pledges that it does not have nor will ever make claims upon the United States concerning its land, resources, and citizens, nor take any action which would result in a violation of United States sovereignty.'" She looked up. "Are you intending to abrogate that by voicing support for an independent pony state?"
"No," Twilight said in a low voice.
"Then what are you proposing?"
"That if the United States will not meet with the council, I will."
Wendy looked taken aback, and she sat up straighter. "This is after you just stated you would not violate--"
"This is not a violation of American sovereignty, no matter what sort of spin you want to put on it," Twilight declared. "I am doing what any Equestrian pony would do: respond to an offer of friendship with friendship. That's all."
Wendy set the tablet aside. "Princess, realize what position this is placing you in. I take you at your word that your country has no territorial demands on the United States, but that is not how it will be viewed in the court of public opinion."
"Then don't let me do it alone," Twilight said.
Wendy tilted her head. "I'm sorry?"
"Treat this like everything else Equestria does on your soil: give it human oversight. A joint American-Equestrian envoy to the Pony Council." Twilight dropped into a softer, more pleading voice. "Don't let our mutual friendship be just words on paper. This is a chance to show that we're allied on this matter."
Wendy let out a long breath through her nose. "I cannot make that decision myself. I will have to get back to you." She took her tablet in hand and stood. "Is there anything else?"
Twilight considered Celestia's letter. "Yes. You speak of abiding by the treaty and Article Three. I'll remind you again of Article Twelve, paragraph three: 'To avoid the use of coercion towards the decision to rehumanize'; paragraph five: 'To avoid the use of force against the transformed'; paragraph six: 'To act in good faith when enacting or applying the law towards the transformed.'"
"What is your point, if I may ask?"
"I will speak with the Pony Council, and I will be asking them how they feel they and their friends and families have been treated."
"And what will be your recourse if you do not get a satisfactory answer?"
Twilight considered the letter. Making the ponies of Earth a protectorate would cause as many problems as it would solve. It would indeed be tantamount to tossing the treaty aside. She could not in good conscience even consider such a move except as a last resort.
When she had pledged that Equestria would never seek to interfere in American affairs, it had to mean more than just words. Friendships were not based on empty promises. She sometimes longed for the days early in the ETS crisis despite all the stress. At least then she felt like Equestria and Earth were truly united in their efforts.
And for a while, that unity had carried over into the post-ETS world, so much so that it had made her lingering resentment over Sunset's death seem petty by comparison. Yet somehow the relationship had begun to sour, and she wasn't sure why.
"Princess?" Wendy prompted in a wary voice.
"Um, my apologies," said Twilight. She looked at the scroll. Until she could figure out what had gone wrong, or what perhaps she had done wrong, she needed leverage; she had to assume Wendy would jump to the worst possible conclusion concerning the missive from Celestia.
She levitated the scroll before her. "I'm keeping my options open at the moment. That's all I can say right now. I will be meeting with the Miss Sunshine on Monday. Please let me know what your response is by then. I would be delighted if American representatives accompanied me. Thank you for your time."
Wendy nodded once before turning on her heel and heading out.
Spike smiled. "Well, that went fairly--"
Thump.
"--well." Spike's smile faded. "Then again ... maybe not."
Twilight's face lay planted on the top of her desk. "I hope I'm doing the right thing," she lamented in a muffled voice.
"Oh, cheer up, Twilight!" Spike chuckled. "It's not like anyone is really asking Equestria to rule over the ponies of this world."
Twilight lifted her head, frowned, and snapped the scroll open before Spike's eyes with her magic.
Spike read. "Oh," he said in a small voice.
"I mean, technically, no, Celestia is not advocating it," said Twilight. "But I don't know what to do. I feel torn; I want to help these ponies because they were forced into this state and deserve to be as happy as they can be, but I don't want to cause even more interference with this world than Sunset already has done."
"Are you really considering it, though?" Spike asked.
Twilight let the scroll roll up. "Not yet. Hopefully never. Something's changed, Spike. I understand that human politics can shift rapidly sometimes, but something else is going on." She set the scroll down. "I'm going to recall Cadance and get her on the next plane to Washington. Maybe we can put our heads together and figure this out."
Bob emerged into the small clearing well off any beaten path, even those created by pony hooves. Fir trees towered over them, and the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine needles. Just out of view, earth ponies scouted the perimeter for predators. He would have liked some pegasi as well, but government drones were always curious about pegasi gathering in any one place.
He found three other unicorns already there, two younger stallions and one older mare. "Apologies for having to do this later in the afternoon, but I enrolled in school for the fall semester. Is this all of you?"
"Yes," said the mare, her wavy yellow mane partially covering one deep green eye. She tossed it back, her deep blue fur slightly ruffled, a sparkling pool of water as her cutie mark. "My name is Pure Waters, but everypony calls me Purity."
"Where are you from, Purity?" Bob asked.
"We're still debating the name of our community, but it's just south of Billings, Montana."
Bob nodded. "What have you learned already about magic? Have you had any Equestrian-led instruction?"
"Some," said the tan-furred stallion, his haunches bare. "And I'm Dan." He ran a fore-hoof through his pale orange mane. "Uhh, still figuring out what I want my pony name to be."
"But not from any of the more famous Equestrian ponies," said his near twin, his coat a shade darker and his mane lighter, the voice almost identical. His haunches were also blank. "And you can call me Ken."
"So just a general mage," said Bob.
"Yes," said Purity. "He said he was from Canterlot."
"But he mentioned Starlight Glimmer would be making another visit soon," said Dan.
Bob made a mental note of this. It was hard to predict exactly when any of the more famous Equestrian ponies would visit. It happened with less regularity lately, and he had the feeling he would have to settle for what he had managed to acquire. "So you got the basics concerning how spells are comprised of runes."
"Yes, but, well ..." Purity hesitated. "I'm not sure how much of it we grasped."
"Runes are building blocks," Bob explained. "A spell is simply two or more runes interacting."
"We got that," said Dan, some impatience creeping into his voice. "But he didn't go into a lot of detail on how to see them."
"He had us learn our spells by rote," said Ken. "Do this, do that, and the spell is supposed to just work."
"Which it usually does," said Purity. "But beyond that, we can't do anything other than what the spell specifically is designed for. We can't apply it any other way. Even my natural talent of purifying water is a mystery to me. I can do the spell but I don't know how it works."
"So what's the damn point?" Dan said in irritation.
Bob glanced to the side, and his horn glowed. He levitated a bucket filled with water and set it down in the center of the clearing. "One of you, please levitate this water."
The other ponies exchanged confused looks. Dan poked Ken in the side and gestured, uttering a bored sigh. Ken shrugged and stepped forward. He grasped the bucket in his magical grip and lifted.
Bob's horn glowed again, and he forced Ken to lower the bucket. "No, not the bucket, the water."
Ken blinked. "Er, what?"
Dan frowned. "Levitation can't do that."
"It only works on solid objects," said Purity. "Something about the fluid dynamics and, er, the binding rune, I think?"
Bob stepped up to the bucket, his horn glowing brighter. The glow surrounded the bucket, then seemed to ooze like oil as it drew itself in until it lined the inside. The water sloshed, roiled, then started to rise as a misshapen glob. Quickly, however, the glob took on form. First he molded it into a perfect sphere, then a cube.
Purity gasped. "H-How are you doing that?!"
"Holy shit, what the hell!" Dan cried.
"Ohmigod, that's fantastic!" Ken shouted.
The water quivered as Bob's concentration faltered, but only a few drops fell to the ground at his fore-hooves. "Please, quiet!" Bob said urgently. "Voices really carry out here."
Dan stepped up to Bob. "Dude, seriously, how did you do that?"
Bob took a moment to return the water to the bucket, loosing a bit as some of it splashed over the sides. "It's nowhere near perfected."
"Screw perfection. You did something we can't. We wanna know how."
"And I intend to explain it to you," said Bob. "You've seen healing spells, right?"
"Yes," said Purity. "Just about every community has a few healers. It was one of the very first spells taught by the Equestrian mages."
"Though some already had a knack for it right out of the gate," said Ken. "Kinda like Purity here and her water magic."
Bob imagined that was more of Sunset's doing. It would make sense to equip the ponies with all the basics of survival. Sunset likely had plans to further pony magical knowledge herself. "Then you know that a healing spell has to be able to manipulate soft tissue and bodily fluids, things that the stock levitation spell can't do."
"Are you saying there's a rune for that?" asked Dan.
"Something like that, yes. I had another unicorn teach me a basic healing spell, and I was able to pick out one of its runes and tried combining it with levitation. It's likely not the most efficient means to manipulate liquids, but it proves my point."
"Can you teach us how to see these runes more clearly?" Purity asked in a hopeful voice.
"I just want to learn more useful spells," Dan said.
"No, you don't," said Bob.
Dan's ears drew back. "The hell I don't."
"You want to learn the runes, then you can create your own spells. That's the key. If you can see and sense the runes, you can find ways to combine them to create new spells."
Purity looked uneasy, and she glanced to the side. "Should we be doing this?" she asked in a tentative voice.
"Most likely not," said Bob. "And from the spells I have been able to analyze, they're even being careful about what runes comprise them."
"So, again, what's the point?" Dan said. "Yeah, levitating water is cool and all, but it's kinda useless past that."
"It was just an example, something that took what you already knew -- the levitation spell -- and added just one rune to it to create a new spell," Bob explained. "If you want a more dramatic demonstration, then I'll oblige."
He levitated some sticks and laid them down in a pile. The glow around the sticks faded, but sparks suddenly erupted from the center of the pile, and flames began to lick at the wood. He stepped back and gestured for the others to do the same. His horn brightened, and a column of flame leapt into the air, almost to his own height. A collective gasp rose from the others.
"No way!" Dan cried.
"No Equestrian fire crystal??" Ken said in amazement.
The glow around Bob's horn faded, and the flames died back. Where the sticks were a moment ago sat a distinct char mark and a small pile embers which glowed faintly red.
Purity stared at the embers, which reflected in her wide eyes. "I-I had heard that somepony had a spell like this but never thought it was you who--"
"I didn't invent it," said Bob. "But a pony who understood how the runes work did. I simply helped her."
Bob had left out a detail or two, like how he had come to possess a fire crystal that had allowed him to analyze the spell attached to it. The only reason he had managed that was because some of the magical shielding which normally prevented such an effort had failed.
Or had been purposely nullified. Later experiences had suggested more the latter.
"I want to know how to do spells like this," said Dan.
"Then let me show you as much as I can," said Bob.
"So after we got out of school, we ran into Skysong," said Molly from her seat at the dinner table. "Um, she used to be called Kim but decided on her pony name just last week. Anyway, she was always one who liked to boast about stuff, and yeah, sure enough, she was showing off her wings to anypony who would listen. She's got bigger ones than most pegasi her age, but my friends were telling her that it didn't matter."
Tom managed a small smile, though it was partially forced. He wanted to be happy for his daughter, but all he could see in his mind is what she used to look like, and how she used to bounce in her chair when she was excited. Now she fluttered her wings instead. It sometimes meant having to pick feathers out of one's food, but Theresa never admonished her for it.
Nothing in the face of the mare who had once been Tom's wife suggested anything but affection as she listened. Tom tried not to wince at his own thoughts. If he closed his eyes and listened to Theresa's voice, he saw her in his mind's eye as he had last seen her before heading off for that emergency meeting in New York.
"So finally I start talking to her, and she got me so bothered about her boasting that I finally said, 'sure, but can you do this?'" Molly hopped into the air and hovered in place.
"Now who's the one boasting, dear?" Theresa said gently.
Molly settled back into her seat. "Yeah, I know, and I felt bad about it after, so I apologized to her. She did too. But it was so cool to see the look on her face when she saw I could fly!"
Theresa grinned. "Fly?"
Molly blushed but giggled. "Well, close enough."
Tom's expression softened. The table was leveled for ponies, and thus Tom towered over it and had to hold his plate in his lap while he ate. This made Molly look even more tiny and vulnerable. He had trouble seeing her now as the nine year old he had been proud to witness grow up. Now she seemed like a baby again, a baby who needed protection, even if it meant protection from herself.
"I'm just glad you made friends with her in the end," said Theresa.
"Well, it's what our teachers tell us we should do, and they're pretty cool," Molly said.
Tom tried to console himself with the fact that Molly was back in school, but he couldn't help but think that it was half proper instruction and half pony propaganda. Pony Hope also had only one school thus far, and he doubted that much about the human world was being taught there. He was not looking forward to the first parent-teacher conference the next day.
His reverie was broken when Theresa raised her voice slightly as she always did when she wanted to get his attention. "Tom, isn't it nice that Molly is making more supportive friends?"
Tom balked not so much the attempt to force him into the conversation as the way she was doing it. Molly had been a bit withdrawn as a human, and now she was more open and willing to make friends. It was a not-so-subtle way to needle him that the transformation had benefited her.
Molly looked at him with her huge, expressive eyes. She still needed his approval and support. He managed a more natural smile as he said, "Of course it's nice. You were always a likable ... you were always very likable, Molly, and there's no reason that you shouldn't have more friends."
Molly smiled.
Tom hated having to watch his language. The last time he had referred to Molly as a "girl", she had loudly corrected him that the proper term was "filly."
Theresa slid off her chair, her hooves making a distinct clop against the wooden floor. "If we're all done with dinner, I'll start cleaning up. Molly, be a dear and help, please."
"But I was going to practice more with my wings," Molly said.
"You can do that later."
Molly's ears drooped. "Oh, all right," she said in a glum voice as she hopped out of her seat.
"Molly, you can go upstairs," said Tom.
Both Theresa and Molly whirled around to face him. "I can??" Molly cried.
"Yes, you can. I'll help your mother with the dishes."
"Thanks, Dad!" Molly said as she raced out of the room, her wings flapping as if she expected them to help carry her up the stairs.
"I'm trying to get her more used to doing chores again," Theresa admonished softly as she balanced her plate and silverware on a fore-hoof. "Despite how much she's looking forward to using her wings, she has to know how to use her hooves as well."
Tom suppressed the urge to retort "she wouldn't have to if she were human again." Instead, he gathered up the remaining silverware and plates. "One night is not going to make a difference."
Theresa trotted into the kitchen and towards a set of wooden steps that had been placed before the sink. "Can I take this as a sign that you're finally starting to be more encouraging of Molly's interests?"
"I wanted to talk to you about Molly," Tom said. "And do you want me to wash this time?"
Theresa sighed as she climbed up the steps and lowered the plates into the sink. She nudged the faucet handle to start water running. While the municipal water supply was no longer working in the area, enterprising ponies from town had reconnected the pipes to a water tower they were using to store pegasus-generated rain. "I was wondering why Eve suddenly decided she wanted to go into town for dinner. You had asked her to leave, didn't you? And turn on a light if you would, please."
Tom reached for one of the oil lamps and turned the knob. Magic sparkled as a spell activated, and the lamp glowed. "No offense to your sister, but she has a tendency to butt into matters that are none of her business."
Theresa grabbed the remaining dishes from her husband's hands, deftly manipulating them in her fore-hooves as she lowered then into the water. "She's family, which makes anything about the family her business."
"And how much of that is pony-talk?" Tom said.
Theresa gave him an irritated look. "She's been kind enough to take us in to a house that she doesn't need anymore so you can have a properly sized place to live."
"But that doesn't automatically make her--" Tom cut himself off. "All right, never mind, I don't want to argue about that. I'll just concede the point."
Theresa's expression softened. She turned back to the sink and emptied some dish soap into the water, splashing a fore-hoof to work it into a lather. "You can rinse if you want," she said in a low voice as she shut off the water.
"Do you really need to do this right now?" Tom asked. "Maybe we should talk first."
"I have a feeling I'm going to need something to keep me occupied," Theresa said in a flat voice. "And I want to get this done before the water has too much of a chill."
Tom stepped up to the adjoining sink and ran the water briefly over his hand. "I wish we could have proper hot water."
"They do have hot water in town," Theresa said in a neutral voice.
Tom decided not to go there. He had already heard all the arguments that pony society had many of the same amenities that humans did. "I'll just get right to the point. I want to take Molly to Fort Collins."
Theresa paused, her ears drawing back. She vigorously applied a sponge to the dishes, splashing water over her fur.
"Did you hear me?" Tom finally prompted.
"I heard you perfectly well." Theresa grabbed a plate from the water and presented it to Tom, snapping her body around fast enough that she splashed water on his shirt. "Sorry."
Tom took the dish. "It's fine."
"But it's not, is it? It can never be fine for you."
If the words had been spoken in a confrontational tone, the whole discussion might have devolved into an argument then and there. Instead, Tom heard a note of sadness in his wife's voice. "Can you really blame me?"
Theresa sighed. "No, I can't."
They washed and rinsed in silence for a few minutes. Tom did not try to prompt her this time; when Theresa got into this sort of state, she had come around herself, or anything Tom said would just irritate her.
"I know you didn't sign on for this when you married me," Theresa said softly. "You likely never expected our vows to cover something like this." She hesitated before continuing in a quavering voice, "You'd have every right to demand a divorce from me, and I'd have no reason to argue against it."
Tom stood in stunned silence.
Theresa looked at him. "You can't tell me it hasn't crossed your mind at least once."
"It has," Tom said in a flat voice. "I just hadn't expected to hear that from you."
"You don't deserve to be stuck with a wife you can't feel any affection towards anymore."
"It's not like that."
"It is, and stop denying it!" Theresa snapped, her voice cracking as her eyes glistened. "I can see it in your face every time I try to be the least bit affectionate towards you. You can't get past what I am."
"Only because what you've become is not normal," said Tom in a lower voice.
Theresa's ears drooped, and she forced herself to continue with the dishes, sniffling once. "And here I had convinced myself I could talk about this without getting all weepy."
Tom felt his insides twist. He did feel sympathy for Theresa, and he wanted to comfort her, but he had no idea how to touch her or how to hold her. Or he could be using that as an excuse to maintain his distance under the illusion that it would make some future breakup easier on him.
"I can't change what I am," said Theresa. "Even if I wanted to, which I don't."
"So this comes back again to life being better as a pony," Tom said in a sour voice.
"I didn't say that. Don't put words into my mouth, Tom, I didn't like that as a human and I certainly don't like it now."
"But everything you talk about implies it." Tom hated needling his wife, but he felt he had no choice. He had too much pent-up frustration to keep a lid on it anymore.
Theresa remained quiet until she had finished the last of the dishes and started on the silverware. "It has made life a little less complicated. I feel like I have a lot more support now. I can devote time to Molly without having to worry about holding down a job just to supplement our income enough so we can afford to give her food, shelter, and an education."
"And yet you grow flowers to trade," said Tom.
"Yes, because I want to and not because I feel I have to. That's the big change. I can decide for myself what I want to do with my life."
"Don't you even understand the big contradiction?" Tom said in a rising voice. "You're marked already! You have your life completely railroaded--"
"Cutie marks don't work like that!" Theresa cried. "My cutie mark doesn't dictate that I have to grow and arrange flowers all the time, it just means that's my particular talent. Nothing at all restricts me from doing whatever I want. Even the Equestrian ponies believe that!"
"It does mean you don't have any choice about being a pony," said Tom.
"I didn't exactly have an option to not be human when I was human," replied Theresa.
"But Molly does. She needs to be allowed to make that choice."
"I am giving her that choice. I never once told her that she has to remain a pony."
"She's not being exposed to the whole picture," Tom said. "How can she be when she's holed up in this pony commune?"
"I never said you weren't free to discuss it with her," said Theresa. "I just don't want you to present it as her only option. Be honest with me, Tom: you feel any other possibility is just so much delusion."
"Try to see it from my perspective for once," Tom countered. "I'm standing here looking at a wife and daughter who are not even my own species anymore. It came about as the result of a disease, an illness. I refuse to be blamed for wanting to see that illness treated. You c-can't be treated anymore. Molly can."
The look Theresa gave her husband softened the moment she heard the brief catch in his voice. "I'm sorry you still see this as a sickness," she said in a slightly stiff but lower voice. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. "If ... I ... I don't want to divorce you, Tom, I don't want to lose you."
Tom's throat tightened too much for him to reply immediately.
"I still love you."
"S-stop it," Tom finally croaked.
"Why? You've expressed your feelings, why can't I express mine?"
"Because this is just making it harder, and it's taking us away from talking about Molly."
Theresa frowned. She dug the remaining silverware from the soapy water and dumped them with a loud clatter into the other sink. "Whatever happens to Molly, it has to be in her best interests. Not yours or mine."
"What you seem to be ignoring is the fact that she's only nine," Tom said. "She may not understand exactly what is in her best interest. That's why she has parents to guide her."
"Parents who can't seem to agree on exactly how to guide her."
"You just said you never tell her that she has to remain a pony, but all she gets exposed to is ponies day in and day out," said Tom. "I'm just the token human around here."
Theresa sighed. "That's not how--"
"I know that's not your intent, I'm just being honest about how I feel," Tom continued. "There's no connection to anything human here except maybe this house. She needs to be exposed to the human world for a while."
Theresa frowned. "And Fort Collins just happens to spring to mind in that regard."
"Well, Denver is out," said Tom in a neutral voice. "Only a quarter of the city is human, and some of their attitudes towards ponies border on toxic. Maybe I see the desire to remain a pony as delusional, but I sure as hell don't condone bullying or violence."
Theresa's expression softened, but she held the frown. "I know why you chose that city. It's because of the large rehumanization center there."
"It would make sense that if Molly did make the decision to become human again, I could take her there."
"I've heard about the counselors at that center, and how they browbeat ponies into making that decision."
"Theresa, you hear all your news about the human world through other ponies," said Tom. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe just a wee bit of bias may have crept into the retelling?"
"But the sources were pretty reliable."
"Then ask yourself this," Tom said in a slightly impatient voice. "Do you seriously think I would let anyone act that way towards Molly?"
Theresa remained silent, her eyes uncertain and glistening.
"I'm doing this because I love Molly, and not because of any personal agenda. I want what's best for her."
Theresa's eyes shimmered as she stepped off the stairs when Tom finished rinsing the last of the silverware. "Let's point out the elephant in the room," she said in a quavering voice. "Whatever she decides, it leaves one of us out of the picture. One of us will feel locked out of her life because we're so different."
Tom felt an odd sense of relief; perhaps his wife had finally started to see things from his perspective. "I don't want it to be that way."
"I know, and maybe I was expecting too much from you. I guess I had hoped that if you lived among ponies and saw what life was like, you'd accept it and be supportive of it. But now when I try to imagine a human Molly and forcing myself to live in a human world ..." She swallowed and shook her head. "I'm sorry."
Tom indeed had hopes he could have simply adapted to a pony world. He had told himself that it might not be too different from adapting to country life. He had been born and raised in a large city and lived there until he had met Theresa, who had been a country girl through and through. He had made the transition fairly easily, managing to do most of his work through field offices or from home with the occasional business trip to their headquarters in New York.
He had been fooling himself. This transition had been nothing like that. He felt this was a world he had known but had been pulled out from under him and replaced with something that insisted it should be familiar but clearly was not.
"Please, let me take her to Fort Collins," Tom said in a lower voice. "Just for a week."
Theresa gave him a serious look. "I'll be blunt, Tom. I don't particularly like the idea that the current rules around rehumanization concerning children favor the human parents over pony parents. If you grant permission for the procedure, they won't think twice about it. My opinion won't even matter, even if I came with you."
"What difference does that make if it's up to Molly in the first place?" Tom asked. "You even said that yourself."
"What I said was that whatever happens has to be in her best interests."
Tom frowned. "And you still think her being a pony is in her best interests?"
"Can you blame me?" said Theresa. "You've seen how happy she is. She's happier now than I've ever seen her! Do you have any idea what it's like for me to be able to send her off to school and not worry that some psycho is going to come in and start shooting? Or that some pedophile is going to stalk her? Or that some bullies are going to drive her to suicide?"
"Theresa, all of you were human once. You can't tell me that becoming ponies somehow removed every last vice."
"I didn't say that."
"Case and point," Tom declared. "Old man Hubert who used to live over on Cherry Lane. He was a raging drunk before he became a pony and he still hits the booze."
"You happened to see him once when he was having a drink," Theresa retorted. "He's sober far more often than he ever was. You know why? Because he has about half a dozen friends who actually give a shit. That's my point, Tom. It's not that I think everypony is a perfect saint, it's that there are so many ponies I can count on to watch Molly when she's not in my sight that I don't have to worry about her as much. You take her to a human city, and she looses that support network."
Tom could have given any number of reasons why her faith in pony society was overblown. Yes, she had some basis for her belief, but it required everything to work just so. It relied on Pony Hope remaining lucky enough not to have any ponies like the ones who had actually hurt or even killed fellow ponies, incidents that even Equestria had admitted were possible due to imperfections in Sunset Shimmer's original spell. With as many ponies who travelled through Pony Hope or emigrated there, that was a tall order.
Yet that would only drag out an argument that he felt he couldn't win; he had to focus on the one that he could.
"I'm going to be with her the whole time," Tom protested. "She won't be out of my sight." He hesitated. "And you can come with me."
He had not planned to take her, as he had not wanted to argue with her yet again over Molly's fate, but he was seeing his chances of pulling this off rapidly diminishing. He held out a last bit of hope as he watched her consider, only to see it dashed when she shook her head. "No, I can't allow this."
"You're not being reasonable," Tom said.
"Maybe that technique used to work on me, but not anymore, not when it comes to the safety of our daughter." Theresa looked thoughtful. "Grand Junction."
Tom blinked. "What?"
"We can go to Grand Junction."
"It's practically a ghost town where humans are concerned."
"Yes, but the humans who are there get along with the pony community better."
"Only because the ponies are in the majority," said Tom.
"I've also heard there's a visiting pony Catholic priest who's been helping keep the peace." Theresa paused before adding in a lower voice, "And it has a rehumanization center there."
Tom knew that, but from what he had heard, its founding had been mostly done for political purposes. He also felt it was asking for trouble; the city was the site of a rather large land dispute, with ponies wanting to reclaim the town for their own and landholding companies trying to prevent another "Denver debacle."
"I would feel safer with more ponies around," said Theresa.
"I'm not sure I would," Tom muttered. "You know what I'm talking about."
Theresa's ears drooped. "I know. The Shimmerists."
"They hate humans."
"No, they hate what they see as the evils of the human world," said Theresa. "Yes, they're more wary around humans, but they're also good friends with Mary Tanner."
Tom tilted his head. "Harry's sister? She's human?"
"She never transformed. I'm sure if she vouches for you, you'll be fine."
Tom remained silent as he considered.
Theresa took a step closer to him. "And I'll vouch for you," she said in a soft voice. "You wouldn't hurt any creature, either human or pony."
Tom rubbed the back of his neck. Of course he wouldn't. Any ill will he bore towards ponies was born from frustration that they remained unaware that they had been sold a bill of goods by an alien charlatan who had promised a cure-all for everything that had ailed them. "I guess I don't have a choice," he said in a flat voice. "It's either Grand Junction or nothing. Fine, we'll do it."
Bob spent until the early evening trying to show the other unicorns how their own levitation spell worked. Of the three of them, Purity had the best luck, having a eureka moment near the end of the session. To her delight, she even had a glimmer of understanding as to how the water manipulation spell worked.
"I still don't completely get it," Dan complained.
"I kinda get it," said Ken.
"I can try showing the twins later," said Purity in a more confident voice.
"I hope so," said Dan. "But it was a good try. I guess I'm a little impatient."
Ken smirked. "A little?"
Dan rolled his eyes but managed a grin. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Okay, I do get some of it. I can see the binding part and the positional stuff, it's just the actual movement I can't figure out."
"That's the hardest part of the spell," said Bob. "So don't feel bad."
"If you don't mind me asking, how are you able to figure all this out?" Purity asked. "I've never seen a unicorn so in tune with their magic."
He wished he could trust that the word would not get out if he revealed he had an outside source of assistance. Not that he could identify exactly who it was; all he knew was that whenever Starlight Glimmer arrived on Earth to lead a round of magical instruction, some tidbit of advanced magic wound up in his hooves not long after.
He doubted it was Starlight herself, as she tended to be very much in the public eye when she visited. Yet she never came alone, so it could have been any number of ponies, or even more than one if the Shimmerists' claims of sympathizers in Equestria rang true.
Bob's ears swiveled towards a faint sound behind him. He would have turned around had not the breeze delivered a familiar scent. "When I was human, I was into science. I suppose that carried over into my pony form. Magic has structure and rules just like physics does. When you were human, you likely drove a car, but you didn't know the finer details of how an internal combustion engine works."
"But there are people who do," Purity said. "My brother used to rebuild old car engines as a hobby."
"Exactly."
"Heh, I get it," said Dan with a smirk. "It's like we're all driving cars but there's no place to bring them when they break down. We have to fix them ourselves."
"And until we're taught more advanced spells, we have to figure out how to create new ones ourselves," said Ken.
"I wish I could teach your more today, but it's getting late," said Bob.
Purity smiled. "You've already done more for us that we ever got from Equestria."
Bob waited for the other ponies to head away before he turned around. "You're not very good at hiding, Tina."
Tina emerged into the clearing, her lips curled into a small smirk. "It's not like I was trying to hide, I just didn't want to interrupt."
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't a filly show support for her coltfriend?"
"I appreciate that," Bob said in a softer voice. "But you know how I feel about attracting attention to what I'm doing."
"Don't worry, I didn't use these," said Tina, unfolding her wings briefly. "And you can't keep hiding this forever."
"That's not something I really want to talk about."
"You've been saying that for a while now. When will you be ready to talk about it?"
"When you're ready to talk about whether you want to rehumanize or not."
Tina's ears drew back.
Bob sighed. "That was uncalled for, I'm sorry."
"No, you're right," Tina said in a low voice. "I've been dancing around it a lot, haven't I?"
"At first I thought it was just the general distaste most ponies have for the idea," Bob said. "But you don't have a lot of the same automatic reactions other ponies seem to have. You seem more like yourself."
Tina smirked. "You're such a romantic."
Bob blushed, his lips curling into a tiny smile. "Well, it is one of the reasons I was attracted to you."
"And here I thought it was my sexy color scheme."
Bob's smile widened. "Oh, stop it."
"What, you mean my colors aren't sexy?"
"I didn't say that, of course your colors are ... um ... I mean ..."
Tina giggled and gave Bob a hug. "Sorry, if I didn't tease you about it sometimes, you'd think I'd stopped caring."
Bob always felt comfort in Tina's touch, especially lately. He wasn't sure whether it was just stress relief or a genuine deepening affection for her. Just a week ago, Tina had confessed that she was starting to have thoughts about more physical intimacy with him -- her roundabout way of referring to sex -- but they had agreed it was way too soon for that.
They also didn't want to commit to something they couldn't finish if one of them rehumanized and the other didn't.
"What about you?" Tina asked. "You've been stalling on the decision as well."
"I know," said Bob in a soft voice.
"You're not waiting on me to make a decision first, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I have to make it for myself." He paused. "I'm just afraid you may base your decision on me."
Tina considered. "What if I do?"
Bob sighed. "Tina, you can't do that."
"Not to put too fine a point on it, but you can't control how I make my decisions."
"But I feel I am, if you base yours on mine," said Bob.
"It's my choice to make, Bob, and if I choose to follow you, then that's my decision," said Tina. "And unlike you, I'm not exactly doing anything specifically to hold off getting a cutie mark. It could happen tomorrow, for all I know. I've been trying out all sorts of things that I can do now, and any one of them could turn out to be my special talent."
"I just don't want you to be like Laura -- I mean Sunny -- was at first," Bob explained. "She latched onto her transformation because it gave her a purpose in life that she felt she lacked."
"And what's wrong with that? Maybe this is exactly what she needed. She's certainly run with it -- or more accurately, flown with it -- with a dedication that makes my head spin." Tina grinned and poked a hoof at his chest. "And she's not the only one to find a purpose in their transformation. Look at what you've been doing."
"I'm doing what makes sense. Ponies have to learn how to improve themselves. They can't just remain at subsistence, which is what they're at now with the paltry amount of magic they're allowed."
Tina smiled faintly. "You sound like you're close to deciding to remain a pony."
Bob certainly felt like he could have more of an impact as a pony. He understood that the window for rehumanization was closing. Even though he maintained more of a connection to his humanity than most, eventually the two worlds would blend together enough that extricating them would be impossible regardless of his wishes in the matter.
Had he not involved himself, this would be an easier decision. He had a far too optimistic view of how quickly ponies could be accommodated in this new world. If he rehumanized now, he would feel like he was abandoning them to their fate.
Moreover, he felt like he would be betraying whoever in Equestria was assisting him.
Bob stomped a hoof. "Why does everything have to be so difficult? The transformation was supposed to make our lives easier, not harder!"
Tina stepped alongside and draped a wing around him. He leaned into her, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the warmth of her body and the soft touch of her feathers and fur. "I'm sorry this is so difficult for you," Tina said softly. "I wish you would open up to me like this more often."
Like most ponies Sunset Shimmer had engineered, he felt an inherent need to be among and close to other ponies. He had forced that instinct to remain partially at bay, but perhaps it had been to his own detriment. All he wanted to do now was snuggle with Tina for hours and vent all his frustrations. He waged a constant battle in separating what he truly wanted from what spawned from biomagically engineered pony instinct.
His feelings for Tina were the hardest to sort out. How much of it was need and how much genuine love?
"I guess I need a break," Bob said in a softer voice. "Sorry for yelling."
Tina wing-hugged him tighter. "Don't be. You're so stoic sometimes that it's maddening."
"I don't mean to be that way."
Tina nuzzled him. "I know. I really admire you for wanting to sort out everything in your head, but everypony needs down time." She paused before adding in a lower voice, "And I want some time with you."
Tina's voice was as much pleading as it was affectionate. She had drawn him so close that he had one ear pressed against her, and he could hear her heartbeat. Sometimes he felt like he could lose himself in that sound.
"Let's head up to the lake," said Bob. "And try not to think about anything else for a while."