Spike nearly dropped his apple danish when a loud crash echoed through the castle. The little dragon jerked in surprise as he crossed the threshold, blinking curiously around in search of the crash’s source.
“Twilight?” he called, edging carefully forward. “Are you alright?”
“Gosh carp it!” a cry of frustration echoed through the castle corridors.
“Apparently not,” Spike sighed, chomping a bite from his danish. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had to dig her out from under fallen books.” He lapped at his claws, savoring the remains of his danish before he went to work. It took a bare minute for him to reach the library where he was certain Twilight lay imprisoned.
“So, what section are you buried under?” Spike asked as he entered, trying to keep a chiding tone out of his voice.
“None,” Twilight growled from her podium. A motley assortment of open books and unrolled scrolls floated lazily about the alicorn. She was rotating the mass around her, skimming over each text briefly only to discard them in a pile beside her. Spike scratched his crest in confusion.
“Either you’re too angry to be neat,” he mused, “or you’ve gone through so many of those things that your stack fell over.”
“The latter,” Twilight answered shortly, discarding a scroll that was quickly replaced by another. “This is harder than I thought.”
Spike picked up one of the texts Twilight had tossed on the pile and flipped through it swiftly, snapping it shut after a moment to read the title.
“Why are you reading stuff like ‘Uncommonly Common Names of North Western Equestria’?” he asked, placing the book gently on a table. “And what’s got you in a tiz?”
“I’m looking for anything referencing an obscure village in the North West corner of Equestria,” Twilight replied. “I have a sneaking suspicion that trouble is brewing there due to some ponies living in that region.”
Spike arched an eyebrow. “This must be a gut feeling or else the map would’ve done something,” he commented, picking up more of the discarded tomes and scrolls to return them to their proper shelving. “What will finding a name in a book do for you anyway? Why not check the map or a census?” Twilight hesitated in her reading. She blushed.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted timidly. The books and scrolls paused in their levitation only to resume it, drifting back to their proper places.
Spike allowed himself a small smug grin. “I guess not. With the state this place is in, I guess you weren’t thinking as clearly as you normally do.” Twilight’s blush intensified.
“I was in a bit of a rush,” she said, flapping down to the floor. She wrapped a leg around the little dragon and squeezed gently. “Thank you.”
Spike’s grin turned to a bright smile. “Go do whatever it was you needed,” he said, slipping from her grasp. “I’ll clean this up.” Twilight frowned slightly.
“But I made a bit of a mess,” she pointed out. Spike waved a claw dismissively.
“It isn’t that bad,” he denied. “Besides, I’m letting you off the hook. Take advantage of my good mood while it lasts. I expect more apple danishes when I finish though.”
Twilight grinned and waved as she left the library. “Thanks a bunch, Spike!” she called over her shoulder. The little dragon sighed and looked at the mess again.
“Well, here it goes, here it goes, here it goes again,” he sang to himself as he set to work.
Twilight rushed into the map room, her horn shining with magic as she summoned the latest census for Equestria’s northwestern province. The map sped to comply with her wishes for a location on where she was searching.
“Chances are,” she muttered, “if the colts live in the northwest on their own world, it should stand to reason that they live in the same area here… I hope...” A small scroll came whizzing through a doorway, stopping to hover above the map table. Twilight’s face lit briefly at the small size. She had less to go through. The map stilled, centering on the northwestern province. The province itself was actually fairly large, just a bit smaller than the Griffon’s mountain based city-state. The largest city was on the coast with the name Seabiscuit. There were several other smaller cities scattered around the province, though most tended to hug the coastline and the rivers snaking inland from the sea.
Twilight narrowed her eyes at the cities. Her best chance to was to start with the largest and go downward. A quarter hour passed and she had ruled out Seabiscuit, Olympony, and Tacoltma. Another five minutes got rid of Porterland and Vanhoover. She had to trawl through Redmane and Fillyham before finally striking gold with one of the smaller towns.
Snohomare.
All three of her suspects either lived in or in close proximity to the city at the bottom of the Castallion Mountains. She grinned.
“Got you.”
* * *
Getting to Snohomare would have been a straightforward task, aside from the multiple steps it took to get anywhere nearby. A train got Twilight as close as Seabiscuit-Tacoltma Central Station, but from there the only train line would go to Seabiscuit itself. It took her a short wagon ride to get to Bolthell, then a walk up through paths and forests to get to Snohomare proper. By the time she made it to the small town, Twilight only had one question.
“Who in Celestia’s name would live in this no-where town?”
“Those ponies, apparently,” Spike offered from his reclined position on Twilight’s back, pointing out the ponies going about their daily tasks. “And those three colts you went on adventures with.”
“Not them exactly,” Twilight corrected. “But their equivalent versions in our world. The boys we were with were humans in pony form.”
“But the ones we’re looking for are ponies, right?”
“Of course.”
“So what’s the difference between the boys in pony form, and the ponies in pony form?”
Twilight opened her mouth, but closed it after realizing that the answer would take far longer than Spike’s attention span would allow. “Just let me know if you see anypony matching the description I gave you.”
“Right.” Spike retrieved a scroll with the descriptions written on it. “A walking bruise, the most punchable face in Equestria, and a mint-color jack-”
“Spike!”
“What?” Spike held the scroll in front of Twilight. “That’s what’s written down here!”
“...Oh yeah.”
“Well, which one do you wanna investigate first?” Spike asked, looking back at the list and prompting Twilight to frown as she thought about the order for all of them.
“Let's start with the second most annoying, then deal with the worst after the warm up, and vent on the last one?”
“So bruise, mint and then punchy?” Spike asked as Twilight began trotting towards the first address.
“It’s as good as any other order…”
* * *
“According to the census, this should be where he lives,” Twilight said, checking the scroll she’d made before coming here. Her hoof froze just before she could knock on the door.
“What's wrong, Twilight?” Spike asked, surprised by her hesitation.
“I’m just... I already know one version of all of these colts, I’m likely going to meet another version eventually in the mirror world, and I’m finding myself asking if I really wanna meet a third set of them.”
“At least you're not meeting a third version of Discord,” Spike replied, causing Twilight’s mouth to form a thin line. Finally, she steeled her will and knocked on the door.
A moment passed, during which Twilight shuffled stiffly on the porch, waiting for something to happen. Another moment passed, and the door opened, revealing a small filly with purple coat and gold mane.
“Can I help you?” the filly asked.
Twilight gaped, blinking at the little pony. A deep voice prevented her from speaking.
“Who is it, Violet?”
‘Violet’ called over her shoulder. “A unicorn with fake wings… Or a pegasus with a fake horn… There’s a dragon too.”
A massive form filled the door behind the filly. Purple Heart stood there, eyes narrowed at Twilight and Spike. The alicorn could have sworn there was a spark of recognition in the purple earth pony’s eyes.
“Go back to your coloring, Vi,” the massive earth pony urged, nudging her inside. Once the filly had moved, his cobalt eyes went back to Twilight.
“Vhat is it, who are you, vhat you vant?” he asked quickly, voice changing to a nasally drawl.
Twilight blinked again.
“Huh?” Spike grunted, leaning around Twilight’s head.
“My god you’ve gotten fat,” Purple Heart continued, ignoring the confused looks. “Come in, come, come.” He beckoned them inside. Twilight and Spike shot each other a look then tentatively stepped inside of the home.
“Thank you for inviting us in, Mr. Heart,” Twilight said with a small nod. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping to have a quick chat with you.”
Purple Heart grunted in response and slumped into a chair in the living room. “For a bibliophile like yourself, Princess Twilight Sparkle, I doubt this chat will be quick,” he replied, voice returning to its normal timbre. Twilight blinked and opened her mouth to speak only to snap it shut when Violet scrambled past her and clambered up to join Purple Heart in the chair.
“Well, I have a few others I need to speak to today, so I’m afraid I’ll have to keep it brief, Mr. Heart. Before we go farther, I must ask; is Violet your daughter?” Twilight asked, trying to take every detail she could in without breaking out her paper.
Purple Heart’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not entirely sure how that is any of your business,” he said, voice changing once more to adopt a low growl. “Frankly, I’d prefer you ask your pertinent questions swiftly.”
“He’s my uncle!” Violet chirped from her spot between Purple Heart’s forelegs. “But I don’t have a mommy or daddy… So I guess he is my daddy!” Purple Heart rubbed at his face wearily with a forehoof.
“Betrayed by my adopted child,” he bemoaned. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
Twilight giggled at Purple’s antics before clearing her throat. “Right, well, in the interest of swiftness, if you could just tell me what your job is...” Twilight asked.
“Daddy makes funny voices and faces!” Violet said cheerfully.
“...Violet, dear, I’d be ever so grateful if you let me answer my own questions,” Purple Heart chided. “I’m a big boy and can handle my own issues.”
“You can never be too sure,” Violet replied innocently. Purple Heart rubbed at his face again.
“I’m a theater and voice actor,” he corrected, poking the filly in front of him playfully, “or as Violet says, I make funny voices and faces.”
“Do the Lorax!” Violet ordered childishly.
Twilight arched an eyebrow and shared a look with Spike. “The Lorax?” They looked back to Purple Heart when the earth pony sighed in response to Violet’s command.
“‘I am the Lorax’,” he said, voice thick with a Manehattan accent, “‘I speak for the trees. I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues. And I’m ask you sir, at the top of my lungs - that THING! That horrible thing that I see! What’s that thing you’ve made out of my Truffula Tree?!’”
Violet giggled happily and applauded the recitation, humming happily as she went back to her coloring. Purple Heart looked at Twilight. “Anything else?” he asked. “Or did you just come to ask about my occupation?”
“I do have one further question. Do you know or work with any ponies by the names of Light Patch or Wits End?” Twilight asked, trying to stop smiling and return to her business look.
Purple Heart’s face took on a expression of contemplation. “In a town as small as this, you can’t help but know everypony here,” he said after a few minutes of thinking. “I know I’ve seen them and interacted with them in passing, but we don’t associate on a personal level.”
“They like gathering salt together,” Violet said. Purple Heart tapped her firmly on the head. “Owchie!”
“You have a great gift of interjecting yourself into conversations that have nothing to do with you,” Purple Heart grumbled irritably. He looked back at Twilight. “We know of each other. But I wouldn’t classify us as friends.”
“Interesting. Thank you so much for the information,” Twilight said, getting up as she gave Purple Heart a small nod of thanks. “And thank you for being such a good informant,” Twilight said, giving another nod and smile to Violet.
“Bye bye!” Violet waved. Purple Heart waved as well, sliding around Violet to stand. The filly hopped onto the purple earth pony’s back and the pair led Twilight and Spike to the front door. As they left, Twilight could hear Purple Heart speaking.
“So, whadaya want for lunch?”
“Sushi!”
“It’s like she’s a smaller, female version of me. Joy.”
* * *
“Well,” Twilight muttered, “that certainly happened…”
“Aw, relax, Twilight,” Spike said. “So the alternate version of your friend from another world has a daughter-slash-sidekick in whatever acting work he’s doing.”
“The daughter is what threw me off the the most,” Twilight admitted. “I kind of expected him to be a thespian.”
“I don’t think you should be making lifestyle judgements about him like that, Twilight.”
Twilight stared at the small dragon. “No, thes- Never mind. This is where Wits End is supposed to be.” The pair looked up at the two-floor building; the first floor being a relatively small book shop. “I guess he’s the owner or something?” She looked closer at a plaque on the door. “Oooor he’s renting the loft upstairs, unless he changed his name to ‘Frank Herb’.”
Spike arched an eyebrow at the name slate. “Do you think he’d do that?” he asked.
Twilight sucked a breath through her teeth thoughtfully. “I mean… maybe?” She opened the door and stepped inside, a bell tinkling above the door jam. A grin stretched her lips and she couldn’t help but feel relaxed. There was something about the smell of books in a small space that just made everything feel right. It reminded her of her treehouse before it had been demolished rather rudely. Bookshelves lined up on either side of a pseudo-corridor leading to a circulation desk in the center of the room. She trotted forward, noting the lack of shoppers as she walked. Reaching the desk, she looked around again.
“Wonder where everypony is,” she hummed, tapping the bell with a hoof.
“Just one moment!” The voice came from what must have been a small room in the back of the shop, followed by a loud metallic banging noise. A few seconds later, an earth pony with a golden coat stumbled into view, his head rather obviously obscured by a bucket. “Yes, yes, how may I help you?” he asked, his cheerful voice echoing slightly.
“That,” Spike said, “is not the pony you’re looking for.”
“He most certainly is not,” Twilight agreed, eyeing the newcomer skeptically. She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if you have a pony by the name of Wits End working here. He’s a friend of mine from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”
“Ah.” The enthusiasm in the stallion’s voice seemed to audibly deflate. “I see. Well, while he does not work here in my little shop-” he coughed in a way that might be misconstrued as the words ‘which nopony seems to want to ever buy books in’, “Mister End is currently living in the room upstairs. The stairs are just to the right there.” He ended by pointing slightly off from the actual direction to the stairs with one forehoof.
“Oh,” Twilight hummed. “Thank you then, Mister...”
“Sun!” The stallion held out a hoof to a nearby bookshelf. “Wayward Sun is the name. A pleasure to meet you, sir…”
“Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship,” the alicorn replied, grinning at the shop owner. “I may buy something on my way out.” She walked over to the stairs. Spike waved to the stallion as the pair trotted up the stairs.
“Ah, hmm.” Wayward scratched at the back of the bucket. “Well, please let me know if I can help you find anything! Nothing like a bout of jolly, book-based cooperation!” He chuckled to himself, feeling his way back through to shop to the back room.
“That was interesting,” Twilight muttered. “I wonder if Bugsy and Mugsy are around here...”
“Who now?” Spike questioned.
Twilight shook her head. “Wayward Sun was an NPC in the game. So were Bugsy and Mugsy. All three interacted primarily with Wits.”
“Ah.”
Twilight stopped in front of the only door she found after reaching the landing. The alicorn took a slow, deep breath to steel herself for what may lurk behind the door. She lifted a hoof and knocked.
Several seconds passed in silence; enough time that Twilight considered knocking again. Just as she raised her hoof, the door cracked open, revealing part of the face of a mint-colored stallion with deep bags under the eye that could be seen. He looked the alicorn and her dragon companion over for a moment before speaking. “And the Princess of Friendship is at my door because… Why, exactly?”
“Well, he’s more perceptive than whatshisbucket downstairs,” Spike drawled. Twilight cuffed her dragon passenger with a wing, silencing any further sarcastic comments. She smiled genially at the haggard looking unicorn.
“Mister Wits End,” she said, “I was wondering if you’d be able to answer a few questions in regards to next year’s census for the Pacific Northwest. Nothing personal, just your occupation and awareness of your neighborhood.”
Wits seemed to consider it for a second. “I guess princesses have to do legwork too, huh?” he said with a tired smile, opening the door the rest of the way. “Do you want to come in? You’d be saving me from reading another page of this blasted novel, if you’re willing to pardon the...” he looked back at the mixture of creatively stacked books and strategically piled accoutrements that were scattered across the loft, “well, let’s call it the ‘dust’.”
Spike snickered and Twilight couldn’t help but laugh lightly as well. “What’s the novel?” she asked, hugging her wings close to her flanks to prevent any accidental toppling.
“Terrible is what it is,” Wits said, gesturing to an empty couch as he cleared space on an armchair for himself. “The author has clearly done no research on Neighpon as his setting, and the supposedly strong female protagonist has turned into a bog-standard damsel the moment an attractive colt with a traumatic past showed up.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I guess you’ll be able to read my thoughts about it by next Wednesday. How can I help?”
Twilight twisted her lips thoughtfully. “Well, you already answered one of my questions,” she said. “I’m guessing you're a book reviewer for a magazine or something?”
“Book critic,” Wits End corrected. “The Manehatten Times doesn’t pay me to be nice. They pay me to accentuate the flaws so that other authors can learn what not to do.” He stifled a yawn. “Or because publishing my written rants gets young wannabe writers to buy the paper instead of spending that money on avocado toast and soyburgers. Either way, they get what they want, and I get to work from home.”
“Wait,” Spike piped in, “you get paid to complain about somepony else’s story? What, do you not like novels or something?”
Wits’ gaze moved slowly to the dragon. “I don’t like novels. I. Love. Novels. And if I don’t love it, I don’t. Finish.” He cleared his throat. “Regardless, it gives me a opportunity to spread my opinion to the rest of the world. Someday, somepony will recognize my obvious correctness.”
“Ah... Interesting...” Twilight coughed into a hoof. “Next question. Do you happen to know some ponies named Light Patch or Purple Heart? I’m curious to know how networking works in such a small town.”
“Hmm…” Wits shook his head. “Sorry, but the most I know is that they exist in this town. I might have run into them a couple of times, but there’s not much I can tell you about them.” He thought for a moment. “Purple Heart is purple, right?”
“Surprisingly yes,” Twilight replied with a small smile. “He’s the guardian of a rather outspoken filly.”
“No kidding,” Spike snorted. “Little thing kept talking while Purple Heart was trying to keep his answers close to the chest.”
Wits shrugged. “Huh, good for him, I guess.” He paused. “Actually, I think I read something about that Light Patch fellow. Hang on.” He stood and crossed the room to a stack of magazines. “The Times sends me copies whenever one of my pieces is published in them… Here it is.” He walked back, flipping through the pages of the magazine via magic until he found what he was looking for. “One of the editors ran a piece on the design of everyday things, and he had some example designs that were sent in… Here.” He passed the magazine over, highlighting one of the designs and the designer’s name underneath it.
Twilight took the magazine and scrutinized the cover, looking for what Wits End pointed out. Spike leaned around Twilight’s shoulder to read.
“Light Patch, Equestria’s Youngest Industrial Designer, Pops Up in Pacific Northwest,” Spike read aloud. He looked at the back of Twilight’s head. “Expecting that?”
“Nope,” Twilight replied quickly, eyes wide with surprise. She coughed again and returned the magazine. “Thank you, Mister End. I think I have all I need.”
“That’s good to hear.” Wits tossed the magazine back onto its stack as he stood and opened the door. “Oh, and if you do happen to have a book you’d like me to go over, feel free to let me know.” He thought for a moment and frowned. “Maybe not one of your top 5 favorites, ‘though. I got in enough trouble for lambasting one of Princess Cadence’s favorites last year.”
“Which one?” Twilight asked.
“Shattering Midday,” Wits said with a shudder. “It’s a mediocre continuation of a series of novels that starts with the utterly forgettable Twil-” He stopped, staring at the alicorn standing in front of him. “You know what? It’s not important. Have a nice day, Princess.”
Twilight Sparkle narrowed her eyes briefly at the mint-colored stallion, fighting to ignore the urge to smack him. She paused, snickering lightly. Smacking was Rarity’s job. She settled for inclining her head in gratitude.
“I shall,” she said, turning gracefully to avoid haphazard stacks of paper and books. Maneuvering deftly, she left the room, descended the stairs, and was two steps towards the door when she saw a book out of the corner of her eye. She swallowed thickly. Spike followed her gaze and sighed.
“Just one,” he allowed. “Mister Sun? She found a book!”
* * *
“Alright, seen as you’re not gonna say it, I will,” Spike said, breaking the silence the two had held upon finally finding Light Patch’s house. “Other than that model railway, the rest of the house is a let down. For a famous pony, this is kind of a let down,” he said, looking at the simple single level house. “I kinda expected a famous designer to be living in a house that looks like an upside-down pyramid or something.”
“He was in one magazine, Spike,” Twilight said as she walked up to the front door. “Unless he’s been swimming in job offers since that article was published, I doubt he’s living any differently than most ponies.”
Spike was silent for a moment. “Maybe the house is bigger on the inside.” Twilight simply rolled her eyes and knocked on the door.
“It’s open,” a voice shouted from deeper in the house.
After a second of hesitation, Twilight opened the door. “Mister Light Patch?” she called. “My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I’d like to ask you some questions in regards to next year's census. Is now a good time?”
A familiar head popped out of a door down a hallway to Twilight’s left. “Now’s as good as any other. Do you mind if we conduct this in my workshop? I’ve got a design I’m busy with, and I feel like I’m on to something. I hate trying to pick something up after a long distraction.”
“Of course,” Twilight said with a nod. A part of her was shuddering at the fact that she was agreeing with one of the colts on something, but she followed Light Patch in. “Might I ask what you’re working on?”
The stallion gouged some clay out of a model he had in front of him. “It’s a medical device for the home, meant to help a pony track their heart rate and a few other things by just being clipped to a leg. The team and I are all making our own mockups separately; cover more ground and all that,” he said, frowning at the gouge he’d just made. “It is amazingly hard to make something like this comfortable and have the future retro look they want. My current path is probably just gonna lead to the wall anyway,” he finished, waving his hoof at the walls covered in various sketches, sticky notes, quills, and several various sized lumps of clay.
Twilight looked between the sketches and the clay model, studying both intently. After several seconds of this, Spike rolled his eyes and cleared his throat loudly, snapping her out of her mental designing. “Right. Well. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time, then. Just to confirm, you’re working as a industrial designer, correct?”
“That’s the main job, yes. I’ve also done a few other small projects here and there, and I’ve also helped a few stores and banks redesign their layouts to be more customer friendly,” he said test fitting the model around one of his legs.
“I see…” Twilight thought for a moment. “What if you made this section conform more to the curve of the leg?”
“Twilight…” Spike growled.
“Right, sorry.” Twilight cleared her throat. “Do you know any ponies known as Purple Heart or Wits End?”
Light Patch frowned as he thought. “The names sound familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever met them face to face.” He set the model back on the central table before scrounging around a bunch of shelves and cabinets.
While the grey pegasus was searching, Twilight took a look at the model again. “You know, you could make this a lot easier to use if you grouped these controls together on one side. Plus, then ponies could wear this on their hind legs without worrying about triggering something by accident.”
“Twilight,” Spike said, “maybe you should let the designer do the designing?”
“I’m just saying- Never mind. What are you looking for, Mister Patch?”
“A faint memory,” he replied, pulling out a sheaf of posters. “Some old poster designs I did for the local theater. I seem to recall Purple Heart’s name being on one of them,” he said, laying them out around the model. “Also, shifting the controls might work...” He paused to glance at the model, before turning back to the posters. “Ah, as I thought, there it is,” he said, pointing it out.
Twilight looked over the poster. “Griffon MacHawk, huh? Some kind of parody to a Shakestallion piece.” She took a few steps back. “Well, that’s all of my questions answered, and quite a bit faster than I expected. I’ll let you get back to work.” She started to move towards the exit, but stopped. “Actually, if you don’t mind, can I ask you about the article the Manehatten Times wrote about you?”
Light Patch frowned as he moved the posters to the side. “Of course,” he said, sketching up the model on a piece of paper before sticking it to the wall.
“Well, I’m just a little surprised I haven’t heard more of you after that. Can you tell me a little bit about what you were working on that got you noticed?”
“It was a device meant to help him dispose of older paper documents that weren’t useful to keep anymore, and contained sensitive data. A minor noble requested it. Tt was supposed to shred the documents, mix the shredding up, and then burn them, making it hard for even a unicorn to use their magic to recreate the documents to steal the information on them,” he said, pulling a sketch of it down from the wall for Twilight to look at. “It caused a big stir, but it’s expensive to make and most settle for just simply burning documents. And I actively tried to counteract the articles attempt to make me famous.”
Twilight frowned. “Not a fan of the spotlight?”
“No,” he admitted. “I’ve never wanted to be famous. I’ve found myself very comfortable being the unsung hero. Plus, if I ever botch a design, most ponies won’t know where to send the blame to,” he said with a small smile.
“I see.” Twilight made a mental note to check on what the other versions of Light Patch thought about that subject. “Still, I’d like to do a little follow-up if you don’t mind. What was the name of the noble who made the request?” Light Patch reached over to the sketch of the device and flipped it over.
“I know I wrote it down on this somewhere,” Light Patch said, shifting through his files once more. “Ah, his name was Holdfast.”
“What kind of a name is Holdfast?” Spike asked. “Sounds like somepony on a crash course with villainy, right Twilight?” He waited for a response that didn’t come. “Twilight.”
“Thank you for your time, Mister Patch,” Twilight said quickly. “I’ll let you get back to your work now.”
“Thank you. Though with the suggestions you’ve given me,” he picked up the clay model and threw it at the one blank section of wall in the sea of sketches, “starting from scratch will likely be better.”
“Good luck!” Twilight called, already most of the way out of the house.
“Wait, Twilight!” Spike was holding on to the purple alicorn’s mane as she took off, heading straight for the train station. “What’s wrong?”
“He said he designed that thing for Holdfast,” Twilight said over the sound of the wind going past them. “Holdfast was one of the villains we fought in Discord’s game. If there’s a version of Holdfast in this world, there might be versions of the other villains as well. And if there’s anypony who’s going to hold a grudge against those Colts…”
“It’ll be the guys they beat?” Spike asked.
“Especially since one of them was a bipedal creature with incredible magical powers even without Discord’s magic.”
Spike thought for a moment. “So... that’s not good then.”
“No,” Twilight said, increasing her speed. “No it is not.”