//------------------------------//
// Knock knock o'clock 
// Story: Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals: The Soul Thief 
// by kudzuhaiku 
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After a long day of celebrating the day of his birth, quiet time with his mothers was just what Sumac needed. Familiar, soft touches and quiet, comforting voices; with Princess Celestia’s voice coming from the hi-fi phonograph being the loudest—though not too very loud. It was his favourite motivational record, the one where it felt as though Princess Celestia was talking directly to him, though perhaps that was the point. 

As was often the case, moments just like this one were the times when Sumac could do his best thinking. He thought great thoughts, profound thoughts, the great big thinks that needed thinking. Why, there were moments when Sumac impressed himself with his thinking and marvelled at his own cogitation. 

There was no fire in the grate, as it was too warm and there was no need. It was a warm spring night, warm enough to have the windows open. Too warm for tea or cocoa, even. The smell of warm wood tickled his nose, the scent that Sumac associated with home. It had been the wagon, once. That had been home. But this home, with its wooden everythings, also had that warm wooden scent that he found so pleasant. 

Wooden floors scratched so easily; poor Megara couldn’t help herself. 

“How do earth ponies keep their eyeglasses cleaned?” 

Sumac’s question wreaked ruinous havoc upon the stillness of the room. The chair by the phonograph creaked as Twinkleshine sat up straight and focus returned to her eyes. Trixie closed her book—a spellbook by the looks of it—and there was a muted thump when the pages met one another. Lemon Hearts ceased the rubbing of his neck; she drew away, sat up, and made a curious sound deep in the base of her throat. 

Meanwhile, Princess Celestia’s voice droned on.

“My glasses get dirty all the time. Stuff splatters. I just use a spell and my glasses are fine again. But earth ponies? How do they keep their glasses clean?” 

“Have… have you tried asking one of your earth pony schoolmates?” Lemon Hearts’ hesitant question-suggestion had a faint hint of worry about it. 

“I can’t do that.” Knowing that he had asked too big of a question, Sumac dropped his head and gave the paisley print pattern of the couch a bit of intense study. “A unicorn asking an earth pony how they keep their glasses clean. That sounds tribalist. It’s worse than… uh… nevermind.” 

“It does sound a bit insensitive.” Twinkleshine leaned forward, her eyes glancing in Trixie’s direction for but a second, and then her gaze returned to Sumac. “Now, you were saying. Worse than what, exactly? Did something happen?” 

Wincing, Sumac knew he had said too much. His mothers would press the issue and there was no way to escape this. As if on cue, Princess Celestia spoke of plucky determination in the midst of impossible odds. Lifting his head, he looked up, but Twinkleshine’s piercing gaze was too much to bear and so he returned to his paisley print studies. 

“Twilight was wrong, okay? There are bad questions. I asked one.” 

“Sumac Apple”—Trixie drew in a deep breath, perhaps in an effort to summon her patience—“what did you do?” 

“Now wait… I think that Sumac wondering how other types of ponies do things isn’t too terribly wrong.” Lemon Hearts held up her hoof to stave off Trixie’s interrogation. “He’s just a curious colt. With more curiousness than is considered healthy, but Twilight wants us to encourage that for the sake of her own rather unhealthy inquisitiveness.” The yellow mare cleared her throat, pulled Sumac closer, and tousled his mane with her hoof. “Asking how earth ponies keep their glasses clean is insightful, Sumac. About your other question… what happened?” 

“I asked Pebble a scientific question—” 

“Whew, that doesn’t seem so bad,” Twinkleshine blurted out while she sank back into her chair. A long relieved sigh slipped free and the pearlescent mare let out a chuckle. “What could go wrong with a scientific question?” 

“Now that I think about it, I gotta stop asking how earth ponies do things.” 

“Sumac?” Lemon Hearts gave the colt a little shake. “Sumac, honey, what happened? Did you and Pebble squabble?” 

“Pebble doesn’t wear eyeglasses and I didn’t ask her about that.” 

“Here we go.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “Avoidance. We’ll be here all night. Can we wrap this up before bedtime?” 

“Yeah… Trixie’s right. I don’t want this stretching on for hours while you try to get comfortable with it, Sumac. Spit it out. Maybe we can help you.” Twinkleshine sat up straight again and her forelegs came to rest upon the arms of her chair. 

“During the Big Thaw when we were stuck inside because everything was so muddy, I got curious and I asked Pebble what I thought was a smart question. It wasn’t smart at all, but it seemed like such a good idea at the time—” 

Trixie made a circular advancing gesture with her hoof. “Get on with it, Sumac.” 

“I asked Pebble how earth ponies keep their butthole clean when they poop—” 

“Oh by Luna’s stars!” Trixie facehoofed hard enough that there was a sound. 

“My eyes just rolled so hard that I’m pretty sure I saw my own brain,” Twinkleshine remarked while recovering from her epic eyeroll. “Sumac, what were you thinking?” 

“Big thinky thoughts,” the colt replied while trying to squirm away from Lemon Hearts. 

Saying nothing, Lemon Hearts scooped up Sumac, flipped him around, and then cradled him in her forelegs. She was biting her lip, though he could not determine why. She might be holding back harsh words, or she might be fighting to hold in her laughter, it was hard to tell. At least Lemon Hearts was kind with her reaction and Sumac allowed himself to relax against her. 

“You just want to know how things work, that’s all. Like Twilight, you lack social tact—” 

Lemon Hearts was interrupted by a gentle-but-steady rapping on the front door. All three mares turned their heads at once, each of them listening, ears pricking to better hear the sound. Trixie was up on her hooves first and her expression was one of annoyance. Sometimes, knocks on the door happened at odd hours—like now. Twinkleshine rose as well, and followed Trixie to the front door, with her annoyance evidenced by her swishing, slashing tail. 

Just before opening the door, Trixie asked, “Now who would come to call at this time of night?” 



 

The door opened to reveal several cloaked figures with birdlike masks. For Sumac, they were terrifying, but for Trixie, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts, there seemed to be no concern at all. He gawked at them, simultaneously thinking the masks were the scariest and most awesome thing he had ever seen. These ponies wore black suits made of rubber, leather, and heavy waxed canvas. 

“Trixie does not remember there being a purge scheduled,” Trixie said to the masked pony in the doorway. “Is there some vermin-related emergency going on? Why is the Rat Catcher’s Guild here in Ponyville?” 

From the masked ponies, the only response was the raspy, creepy sound of their respirators, a sort of faint mechanical whooshing. Trixie’s face could be seen reflected in the round glass eyes of the birdlike masks. One of the masked ponies pulled aside their cloak and with one swift motion, drew a gun with a long, dull barrel that had been blacked out. 

Trixie too, reacted, stepping aside, her eyes wide, and then far too many things all happened at once. There was a bright flash of light, a muted pop like a firecracker going off beneath a bucket, a scream, and the air was filled with choking dust that made Sumac cough. Lemon Hearts dropped to the floor, her body thudding hard against the wood, and Sumac—now panicking—could see bright scarlet droplets running down her neck. 

His very first reaction was to pull Lemon Hearts to safety, but his magic fizzled—nothing happened. Sparks flew from the tip of his horn but he had no telekinesis to work with. Lemon Hearts was coughing, gagging, and fighting for air. Sumac was aware of the commotion going on all around him, but only in some vague way, as all of his attention was focused upon his felled mother. 

“Secure the colt and then we’ll away,” one of the masked figures said, its voice a mechanical thrum. 

Sumac felt the telekinesis gripping him, pulling him away from Lemon Hearts, and his hooves scrapped over the hardwood floor while he tried to escape. Trixie and Twinkleshine were fighting, but like him, they had no magic. There was a thud when Twinkleshine rammed one of the intruder’s head into the solid door frame, which she then did again, and again, and on the fourth time, the mask shattered along with the intruder’s skull. 

The magic that gripped Sumac was weak—his magic sense still functioned, at least. These were weak unicorns; in fact, they hardly had any magic at all. Not that it mattered, the choking dust from the gun blast had robbed him and his mothers of their magic. One of the masked intruders held up a glowing yellow gem and right away, Sumac’s magic sense told him what it was; a portal gem. It was like the portal gems that Twilight made, but not like hers. Those had to be charged—typically by Twilight, or by several rather powerful unicorns. This portal gem though, this one was ready to go. Sumac, much to his horror, recognised the magic too, as sensing it brought to mind memories of Catrina, his hated nemesis. 

Just as the portal gem took on a dire yellow intensity, a gout of flame consumed the masked invader holding it aloft. Rubber melted, canvas ignited, hair singed, and a dreadful stench filled the entryway. The gem fell, hit the floor, bounced, clattered, and then before anypony could recover it, was snatched up by Boomer, who promptly gobbled it down. 

Having eaten a highly magical gem, Boomer was primed for combat. 

One of the intruders was already on fire and roiling smoke filled the entryway as he fell to the floor and rolled. Sumac scooted away and somehow, Lemon Hearts was getting up on her hooves. The wounds in her neck were quite tiny, but there were a lot of them and Sumac could hear wind whistling out of the holes in her throat. Boomer belched out more fire and one of the intruders vanished, as if teleporting away. He reappeared a second later, half-in and half-out of the wall beside the door, his forelegs flailing about while he screamed in agony, his body now merged with wood. 

Twinkleshine, armed with an umbrella taken from the hook near the door, held her makeshift weapon in her fetlocks while she balanced on her hind legs. Hind hooves thumping, she propelled herself forwards, raised the umbrella high, and rammed its pointed tip right into the neck of one of the intruders. The point did not pierce, but tore away a wide, broad flap of flesh and bright crimson blood guysered in a fantastic parabolic arc, painting the ceiling overhead in a vivid shade of red. 

Trixie, sensing opportunity, shoved a stunned intruder forwards, right at Twinkleshine, and the canny mare raised her bloodied umbrella, bracing herself for the impact. Sumac jerked his head away just as the masked unicorn fell onto the umbrella’s point, which still glistened with the blood of his companion. 

Flames crackled along the wall and turned the ceiling directly above a sooty black. The air, still filled with the choking dust, was now also filled with smoke, and the worst of Sumac’s nightmares came to be; his home was on fire. He backed into a corner, fearing the flame, and didn’t know what to do. The invading unicorns had magic, but they didn’t have magic; at best, they were fighting with weak telekinesis and not spells. 

One raised a weapon—a sword—but Boomer wasn’t having that. She lept, landed on the back of the would-be attacker, dug in her claws, and belched out a wad of crackling flames. The sword fell to the floor, bounced, and the unicorn, struck in the back of his neck, burst into flames. Sumac kicked the sword, striking the knob on the grippy end with his hoof. It went skittering away and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“Lemon!” Trixie barked, her voice ragged. “Get Sumac to safety!” 

The heat was overwhelming now, and the copious smoke made his eyes water. The wall was truly ablaze now and crumbles of plaster from the ceiling fell like hailstones. More intruders poured through the front door and Sumac could hear fighting outside. An orange glow could be seen in the windows, the dreadful suggestion that other things were on fire as well. 

“Get the Master’s sorcerer!” 

A second gunblast rang out, filling the air with many tiny pellets and even more dust. Sumac coughed, it was a struggle to draw breath, and he suspected that the dust was the cause of his magic malfunction. There would be no running to safety, as Lemon Hearts was grappling with one of their many assailants. More help had arrived and there was only so much that Twinkleshine, Trixie, and Lemon Hearts could do against such numbers. Boomer set another invader alight after somepony tried—perhaps more importantly, failed—to stab her with a sword. 

“Catrina will be arriving soon! Get the sorcerer to the extraction point!” 

A falling chunk of plaster struck one of the intruders on the head and sent him to the floor. 

Twinkleshine now had a sword that she held in her fetlock. She buried it into an intruder’s neck, yanked it out, and then stabbed another. Boomer’s flames were now a danger to all; the entryway had grown unbearably hot and the stairs were now ablaze, cutting off any retreat upstairs. It was hard to see, even harder to breathe, and the little pygmy tree dragon showed no signs of stopping. 

From the kitchen, Sumac heard the sounds of the back door bursting open…