Diplomacy had never been Ocellus’s strength, even before the world got torn apart. It had taken every drop of determination and cleverness to keep her group from fracturing—or worse, from inviting the humans to go to war. But after hours of fancy parties, of listening to speeches and promises of peace from both countries, she dared let herself feel a little pride. She had done it. There would be no wars today. Humanity would’ve made a dangerous enemy, but now they would become a friend.
Even so, she had questions. Questions she asked Twilight as soon as she got a spare moment with the princess. It was already night by then, and the party in the “Queen’s Head” was winding down. Many of the diplomats had got just drunk enough that she could finally catch the princess alone.
“I don’t understand the point of formalizing all this,” she whispered, quiet enough that she hoped she wouldn’t be overheard. “A peace treaty is great, but… that treaty is huge. International recognition… fishing rights? Trade, tourism… what’s the point? Aren’t we going back to our world? This spell will reverse itself, won’t it?”
Twilight glanced around to see that no one was listening, then her horn shimmered for a second. The sound of the party all around them—the quiet music, the friendly voices—all went abruptly silent. “This isn’t common knowledge yet…” Twilight said, her voice low. “But it was discussed. It’s in parts of the treaty that aren’t going to be shared yet.”
“Okay…” Ocellus fluttered up to the chair next to Twilight. But there was only one pony cushion at this table, so she had to change. Ocellus got taller, lankier—and suddenly she was human. Almost Marie, though at insistence from Miss Norington she had made a few changes. Blonde hair instead of brown, some random alterations to her face. Otherwise she might as well be the same pony. Maybe an older sister? “So what?”
Twilight blinked, then shook her head dismissively. Apparently Ocellus’s mastery over human imitation wasn’t interesting enough for her. Plenty of the diplomats were staring, but she ignored them. She’d already showed off her powers for them hours ago. “Equestria isn’t the first,” she said quietly. “The magic that brought us here is not tearing us off our world. It’s replacing the land that always should’ve been here. Have you ever looked at a map of human land?” She didn’t actually wait for an answer. “It’s gigantic. Like unbelievably big. Everything on our whole planet could fit inside one of their continents with room to spare. Because it used to be here.”
As shocking as that revelation was, Ocellus actually found her heart leaping with joy. “You mean I’ll get to see my family again?”
Twilight nodded. “Probably soon. Months, not years. We’re still unraveling everything back in Equestria, but what we know for sure is that the magic originated there and spread outward. The further land is from Equestria, the later it will come back. But it’s all coming back.” She sat back, sipping at her human drink. Ocellus wrinkled her nose at how strong it smelled, but Twilight seemed to need it. “It’s a good thing the humans didn’t ask for much. It could’ve gone bad.”
“What did they want?” Ocellus asked, unable to restrain her curiosity. “You didn’t have us to talk to during negotiations… I hope the treaty is fair.”
Twilight’s eyebrows went up. “We aren’t helpless, Ocellus. We had the best ponies for the job, don’t worry. You can read it yourself. Just… don’t ask me.” Her horn stopped glowing. “I’ve had enough business today.”
Some of her friends were still here. She could see Smolder talking to a group of humans in black and white uniforms—she recognized them abruptly. Marie called them “police.” Unless she had completely lost her mind, those were the humans that had found them on the beach. One of them had shot Smolder.
Did Smolder need her help? Ocellus crept closer for a few seconds, listening in as best she could. But one of them clasped the dragon on the shoulder, and she puffed a little blast of fire into the air in front of them. They cheered, and one replaced Smolder’s mug with a fresh one.
Guess that’s forgiven. Ocellus slipped back into the party, moving as casually as she could. There was still one question unresolved. Of course they didn’t tell me. The humans are the ones with the decision to make. She got up, searching around the room. No sign of David at a glance. “Marie, where are you? Not at the party anymore?”
“No. We got tired of all the noise.” She probably meant that she got tired, and her friends had left with her out of sympathy. But Ocellus didn’t correct her.
“Where are you?”
“Fancy stateroom a few floors down.” She passed the directions on, and Ocellus slipped out of the party. It wasn’t hard, really. Despite her differences, everyone seemed to assume she was Marie, and told her where to go. Besides, this whole section of the ship was housing dignitaries and guests from both sides—only if she tried to go into the military sections below would soldiers stop her.
She reached the section of little rooms—officer’s quarters, according to the signs. I hope the officers who would be staying here aren’t too upset we stole their spot. One of the bedrooms had its door hanging open, and no one visible inside. The other was shut. She tried that one, and it opened without a lock.
All three of the humans were inside, clustered near the wall around the thing called a “Switch” again. They were all wearing pajamas. Most notably, Marie’s real features were visible, wings poking out through the back of her top and her eyes solid blue. She was the first to notice Ocellus’s approach, since she’d been able to sense her through the door. “Done with the party?”
The others turned, though Helen only briefly. She was more interested in the game. David set his controller down without another word, watching her. But it was Marie who answered. “Too many people. My head still feels like it’s gonna explode. They gave me something for the migraine, but… I’ll be happier when I’m not on this boat.”
“That’s…” Ocellus sat down on the edge of the bed. “Something a lot of grubs went through when they were young. But you don’t just live with it. There’s training you can do. When you come to Equestria, I’ll teach you. Err…” She hesitated. “That’s why I’m here, actually. Do you get to come? Once the important ponies and important humans started talking, we just didn’t matter anymore.”
David sat down beside her, not quite close enough to touch. She resisted the urge to just read what he was feeling and figure it out, waiting to hear what he had to say. “Our parents are on their way out,” she said. “They’ll be coming with us. Well, my mom will.”
“And me dad,” Helen called, not actually turning around. “Equestria’s a bloody new market, yeah? Finally did something he noticed. Maybe he’ll even get my name right this time.”
Marie laughed. “My mum actually tried to tell them no, if you believe it. Said I needed no part of Equestria or anything else. Said I’d been ‘corrupted enough.’” She chuckled. “But she didn’t actually get a choice. She’ll probably be bloody peeved when she finds out there’s no cure, though.”
“There could be,” Ocellus said. “I mean… there could be a ‘cure,’ if you just never let her see you do magic ever again. Oh look, I’m better! See world! Totally better. No magic here.”
“There’s going to be magic everywhere now,” David said, taking her hand. Ocellus’s heart raced, but she didn’t pull away. Isn’t he worried about Helen turning around again? What if she sees? The warmth in her chest didn’t care who saw. Maybe David didn’t care anymore either. “They’re talking about tourism. In a few years there might be an airport in… what’s the capital again?”
“Canterlot.”
“Canterlot, right. An airport in Canterlot, with tourists flying all over the world. Or… at least to the NATO countries, Australia, and Switzerland.”
Ocellus’s eyes widened, and she leaned in close. “Wait, you actually understood what the treaty says?”
“Most of it. I mean half of it was just ‘we agree you exist, we agree you’re a country and you have a right to control your territory. Now we agree the same things about you, boring boring legal boring.’ But there were a few things. There’s, uh… it could still get ugly. Half of the world doesn’t recognize Equestria’s autonomy yet. Not sure what they’ll do. My phone caught something from Iran saying you were an affront to God or something?” He shook his head. “Stupid.”
“Of course it’s gonna get bloody ugly,” Helen spun around. Her eyes widened a little as she saw the two of them, but she restrained her shock. Not half as well as Agent Smith, but she managed to keep talking. “There are people involved. Things are always messy. But those places are far away and we’re right here. That’s what having allies is about, yeah?” She finally set her controller down, voice faltering. “So, uh… you two? Does that even work?”
What does that mean? Ocellus couldn’t make sense of whatever Helen was thinking. It was confusing and strange and she quickly stopped looking.
David seemed to read the implication more than she did. “I’m sorry, Helen.” He let go. “I know you… I mean, I think I know. I hope this won’t ruin our friendship.”
“I don’t know.” Helen folded her arms, looking Ocellus up and down with sharp eyes. “Let me get back to you. She seems like a sweetheart and all, but… I ein’t sure if it’s better or worse she’s an alien.”
“If it helps…” Ocellus muttered, voice feeble. “I’m not sure my uncle would approve? But I don’t actually know anything about what’s going to happen. I might not see my family for months, maybe years. Who knows how long you’ll be able to stay in Equestria. They might not want a changeling like me ever setting hoof on your island again. Lots of questions. Lots of ways to ruin it.”
David took her hand again, squeezing reassuringly. “Forget all that. We basically saved the world, if you think about it. Maybe we can just… be here. Let the grown-ups worry about tomorrow.”
That sounded like a good enough idea to her.
But she couldn’t stay, not when her friends were waiting for her. Ocellus rejoined them on the deck of the Queen Elizabeth an hour or so later, where an Equestrian airship had lowered a long wooden bridge onto the side of the ship. The airship seemed to take several pegasus ponies just to hold it in place against the wind.
Gallus waved to her as she approached. “Still… lookin’ like them huh?”
“Oh!” She blushed, then changed back into herself, wings buzzing with embarrassment. “Not anymore!”
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone native on us, Ocellus.” Smolder met her for a hug—the others soon joined her, until the guardspony on the edge of the ramp tapped his spear impatiently on the metal deck. “We’ve got a long flight.”
“Did Twilight tell you about our grade?” Sandbar asked, as they were walking up the ramp. It creaked a little underhoof, but nothing like all the human buildings and vehicles they’d been using for weeks now. Ponies actually built things sturdy enough to support weight.
“Oh, no. I… completely forgot about that.” Her ears flattened to her head. “How many years did we flunk for this?”
“None!” Silverstream jumped into the air, circling once around the ramp before landing on the edge of the airship up ahead. “Straight As! We’re graduating!”
“Oh.” Ocellus felt herself smiling. “Guess we didn’t do that bad a job.”
“We better graduate, after all those needles we let them stick in us,” Gallus said, landing beside Silverstream. He lowered his voice, and Ocellus didn’t catch what he said next. But she sure felt it when they kissed.
“What about the small friends?” Yona asked, utterly oblivious to what was going on a few feet away on the airship balcony. “They were coming back with us, yes? Teach Marie to fly! Wasn’t that…” She turned to Gallus, then stared. The resultant shout was loud enough that it echoed off the ship, and made several humans on deck jump.
Ocellus climbed off the ramp at the back, shaking her head. “They’re coming tomorrow. The flotilla is sending a ship to Manehattan with some goodwill gifts. They’ll catch the train from there.”
Nopony was at war, nopony had died. So far as final projects went… Ocellus figured they could’ve done worse.