//------------------------------// // Chapter 37 // Story: Borrowed Time // by Gambit Prawn //------------------------------// I put a hoof to my head, which was still spinning with a low hum. A white lie that I wasn’t feeling any aftereffects had gotten me out of the infirmary. The childlike guilt weighed down on me somewhat, but I figured if I made it home free, my own bed would work just as well for recovery purposes while being far more welcoming. As I hopped up the stairs, My newly appointed brigade of emotional support ponies trotted behind me, as if dancing to an unheard merry tune. If it weren’t for my new wings’ ability to demand attention, I might have appreciated the fact that most of them had stayed around for all four hours I had been unconscious. Half of them peeled off from the group as we passed by the lower floors. Half of the remainder bade me farewell shortly thereafter to return to the floors above, or to go to one of the upper level cafeterias. As I neared my oasis of solitude, the last stragglers wished me well and split off from the pack as we reached their rooms. This made it seem like I was the one escorting them home as opposed to the other way around. “River?” “Yes, Pink?” “Take care of yourself, okay?” “Yeah…” I said with tempered exasperation. She looked at me with eyes that contemplated several approaches to parting words, but in the end, she remained silent. As I watched her walk away, I wondered if her genuine concern for me evidenced suspicions about my hidden circumstances. At least I knew with Pink that it wasn’t because I was an alicorn. Clearly, that was the type of pony she was. Shaking my head, I sized up the door to my room. Before the obvious reason occurred to me, I was at first struck by how much bigger it appeared. Just how small can ponies get? I wondered. Surely there had to be a limit. I had seen babies and toddlers before, but no foals in between them and the youngest schoolponies heightwise. Determined to cut off the unproductive reflection, I pushed my door open, walked inside, and extricated my neck from the handle of a plastic bag containing a care package from the infirmary. I felt weak, but I was left with the hope that I wouldn’t lose much more height or muscle mass for a while. I sighed. “What a waste of a Friday night…” Not that I had anything to do, though. Great... leave and I get accosted by the masses; stay and boredom sets in. I heard a characteristic knock. “Come in…” I was unsurprised when Celestia squeezed through the doorway. “If you’re here to worry about me, I’ve had plenty of that already. Ponies I’m pretty sure I’d never met were huddled around the bed.” Celestia put a hoof to her chin before her expression settled on a sheepish smile. “While I appreciate your ability to anticipate certain developments and sentiments you view as predictable, I’m afraid I will have to worry this time.” I took a moment to formulate a witty response, but I was drained in that regard as well. “Can we do this in the morning? I kind of want to get to bed. I’m not sleepy, or anything, but I just want to wash away this sluggish feeling.” “I’ll keep it short. I promise. First, I want to apologize. You were thrust into a new, turbulent state of affairs that few ponies can relate to. I had assumed that to mitigate the pressure of your new role it would be advisable to delay the metaphorical “initiation.” In truth, I should have acquainted you with the tools to cope as soon as possible.” She took a moment to consider how to proceed. "Not to make excuses, but I might have thought you had already adapted to this world. In reality, you still are adapting in many ways. ” I looked down. “No, I’m not going to let you take the blame. I’ve risked my life on numerous occasions and even laid it down for the sake of family and the human spirit, as I’m sure you very well know.” My wings spasmed. “The fact that the stupid demands of foals could knock me out is pathetic. I might be a young child physically at this time, but it’s no excuse.” Celestia smiled hesitantly. “I would insist otherwise, but that, at the moment, promises to be an unproductive debate. In any event, your anxiety, although it could have been better managed, is an understandable response. In fact, you probably handled it better than some grown ponies would have.”       “I guess…” I started to look away, somewhat self-conscious. Despite Celestia’s best efforts to treat me like an equal, I still felt like the child in such an exchange. “I take it there’s a more substantial reason you’re here?” “Again, your guess is spot-on. I’ll cut to the chase. You need to get out more and do the things that you enjoy. But that doesn’t mean you have to rush to embrace pastimes typically enjoyed by ponies. Or foals. Or fillies, for that matter.” “Then what do I do? Virtually everything I’ve done here has been forced. When I’m not occupied with some scheduled event, I’ve been fairly bored. I can only read so many books.” “Twilight would disagree,” Celestia teased. “Regardless, I want to reiterate the whole “get outside” part. You may not want to interact with others, but ponies are naturally social beings.” Celestia took a few long strides and hugged me. I enjoyed it for a few moments, but then pulled away. “Hey… is this the whole “seven hugs a day thing?” The princess laughed. “That’s not entirely accurate. Sure, it helps. The study I was referencing didn’t find that that many is necessary for good mental health; it’s just that a certain amount of hugs, or more led to statistically better moods and emotion.” Celestia shrugged. “In any event, I’ve set up some activities for you this weekend.” I recoiled and then deflated. Celestia responded immediately, flailing her forehooves.  “No, it’s not anything you’ll hate too much, I promise.” I sighed. “All right, give me the rundown.” “Well, one bit of bad news: you probably will want to avoid the Junior Royal Guards.” I blinked in slight surprise. “Why?” I asked out of curiosity, but I had my own reasons not to go. “Well, you don’t like ponies congregating and deferring to you. Colts and fillies with an interest in the guard will probably be more prone to both.” “Makes sense,” I said lamely. “What else.” Celestia smiled. “I do have a little surprise for you.” Without delay, she levitated a small, familiar ring towards me. “This again? I haven’t touched that ring lately. It is somewhat useless now that I’m better at using my hybridized magic ability. Why should I care?” The elder alicorn walked around me as she spoke: “Reasonable objections, certainly. But I thought that ‘Lua’ might be yearning for soccer practice without the distraction wings will bring.”   My tail started to wag behind me. “Really!? It can hide my wings? That’s great! I’ll wear it all the time!” Celestia put a hoof on my withers. “Now don’t get carried away,” she cautioned. “It still works as before. If ponies are expecting to see the wings, they still will.” I pursed my lips. “Dang it. I was hoping my classmates would leave me alone more if I didn’t have two constant reminders of my pseudo-royal status jutting out of my body.” The regal mare backed up to give me more space. “That’s not all. I have a few more outings planned for you. But first, I should probably mention that you’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow. I made sure the other exchange students would be going on Trusty’s trip to the zoo.” I tried to hide my ever so slight disappointment. I had wanted to tour the zoo, but I wanted a breather even more. Considering this, I nodded to Celestia. “I also have a surprise for you tomorrow evening.” Celestia paused and put a hoof to her chin. “Though upon voicing it, I’m realizing that since all of these are supposed to be surprises, wouldn’t this one be a double surprise? In any event, my lips are sealed. As for Sunday, I contacted some specialists to help you explore your interests and natural affinities.”   “So you’re sending me to some office!?” I whined indignantly, to my own annoyance. “I thought I told you before: no therapists.” I watched her glittering mane sweep side to side as Celestia shook her head knowingly. “Oh, they’re certainly not some stodgy professionals. Give them a chance; the experience will probably exceed your expectations.” I yawned. “I’d debate this, but I’m still worn down after all that happened. I suppose one benefit of these wings is that I can kick you out without overstepping.” The colossal mare giggled. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s exactly those wings that are the reason we’re not done here.” “Oh?” She took a deliberate breath. “You won’t like this part, but now that you have wings, you have some basic hygiene and maintenance responsibilities.” I pounded a back hoof on the floor. “I can’t even move the blasted things yet! Why should I have to maintain them if they do nothing for me?” “It will take time,” Celestia voiced, repeating the old line. “Your brain is currently being rewired to account for new appendages. The neural pathways will take time to develop. Regardless, besides social niceties, failing to remove damaged, or shifted feathers will interfere with new feathers as they grow in. It will hurt at first, but that fades fairly quickly.” I sighed. “You speak from experience?” “I have only a vague recollection of learning myself, but I had to teach Cadance and Twilight rather recently, though.” I was briefly overcome with shame. How did I not consider something so obvious? Is my intellect slipping now? I hopped up on the bed. “Fine let’s get this out of the way.” The princess took a running start and gently jumped on my mattress, deforming it and sending me bouncing into her barrel. To my relief, she had splayed her legs to avoid stomping me. For a moment I writhed like a turtle would with my back to the mattress. “Please don’t do that again,” I urged, annoyed. “Sorry...” she offered, before jumping headlong into her work. I braced for impact as she yanked the first feather hard. I flinched, but at least it informed me regarding what to expect. The monarch had curled her body around mine, just out of contact. This added to what was already an intimate experience. I didn’t have the best view, but to me it seemed like she was pulling feathers at random. What occupied me the most though was the strange sensation of my wings being handled. Muscles I had never felt before stretched out as if receiving long-awaited actuation. Surprisingly quickly, and with no particular warning, Celestia declared herself done and motioned to make a quick exit so as to not overstay her welcome. Consequently, it felt unusual that I was the one to gesture her back in. “Hmm… what is it, Alice? Don’t worry: you’ll get used to it in time.”    “Oh, uh… why was that so brief?” “While large by some standards, you have the wings of an infant alicorn. There’s simply not that much territory to cover. I take it that’s not what you wanted to ask though?” I looked away in subtle shame before forcing my eyes back in line with hers. I started silently feeling out for the appropriate words. “If your specialists don’t work, or the ponies at school keep pestering me, how can I avoid fainting again? After all, my impression is that being the center of attention is my new reality.” “It’s a good point…” Celestia offered, clearly stalling for thought. “There’s not a lot you can do. After all, it’s not like there’s a tonic you can take for stress. I could suggest developing some coping strategies, but that might very well require a therapist.” “No.” “All right. Well, I suppose there is a remedy you can apply as needed...” Celestia propositioned ominously. “Oh?” I responded with naive interest. Then it hit me. With a bittersweet smile, Celestia encircled me, magicked off the lights and lay down with her horn faintly glowing. No… I felt her fur barely contact my own as warmth flowed into me. I sighed and nodded my head. Just... this… once. I thought firmly. Soccer was wonderful for the anticipation. The ponies on my team were genuinely happy to see me. For some reason, this mattered to me a bit more than it might have with another group. One interpretation was that it was genuine camaraderie, but it was premature to expect that of our team of neophytes. I was feeling great, and I was playing great, dashing around the field with boundless energy. My handle was still a little shaky, but I didn’t mind all that much. My feigned zeal was somehow infectious. There was a warning light going off in my head that I was enjoying this persona a little too much; however, I didn’t even care at that time if my zest for the game was real or not. Having as much fun as I was, I expected to crush Blue Horizon in whatever silly game she came up with. Well, she managed to beat me in the cone weaving drill. As forced as her whole ‘rival’ schtick was, she seemed to genuinely enjoying gloating. I let her have her moment—at least until I couldn’t stifle my amused laughter anymore. “Lua, come on! You’re not supposed to laugh! I beat you!” I bid her farewell with a wave and turned my back, still chuckling while trying to recover my composure. What a great day! I wonder what Celestia has planned? Well, whatever it is, I doubt it could ruin my mood at this point. Even if every pair of eyes in the suite weren’t on me, I'd still have felt awkward clapping my front hooves together. Of all the gestures I had to modify after becoming a quadruped, this was easily the least effective transition to make. Excepting finger gestures that is. “All right. Nauticals. Let’s go,” I parroted flatly as I watched the marginally comprehensible game unfolding beneath me. “Hmph. How does a total tomcolt not know anything about hoofball? You can’t even cheer right.” “Be quiet, Annuity,” I remarked with disinterest. “I mean, here I was hoping to be away from the filly princess circus, but no, you even follow me to my father-daughter time.” “Be quiet, Annuity.” The bronze filly shook her head in disgust. “You ascend your way into the best seats in the house, and you don’t even avail yourself of the connections—plus you don’t even have any friends you can invite.” I had to admit that one stung. “Be quiet, Annuity. You didn’t bring anypony either.” “Well I would have! But Zap had some stupid birthday party to go to!” Annuity asserted defensively. “As opposed to your stupid birthday party?” I casually snarked. Besides, if Zap were here, I’d have to endure her pretending the three of us were best friends. Or, worse: trying to make us all best friends. My adversary motioned towards me, readying an assertive rejoinder, but she drew back to think for a second longer. “Don’t pretend you didn’t have fun.” “You got me there…” I muttered, but admitting defeat was inimical to me. “But then again, that was because of Monocle and Zap. See: I do have friends.” “I’m so happy to hear that, River.” I felt a chill, being caught red-handed. I should have known... Ponyfeathers! “Oh, Princess Celestia. Welcome back! I was just telling River that the Brookers are so much better. We totally weren’t fighting, or anything.” “I’m happy to hear that!” Celestia repeated, with a warm, knowing smile. “So, you two know each other pretty well? “Of course,” Annuity insisted, completely forced and transparent. “We hang out all the time!” “Yeah, it wouldn’t be school without Annuity,” I said.  "Can’t live with her, can’t get away from her.” Annuity exerted herself to keep her facade of a smile steady. For the fun of it, I did my best to mimic her. Celestia herself struggled to keep a straight face. “Princess Celestia!” a mare wearing what looked like a black evening gown called out. “Hmm?” “I was going to write to you regarding zoning ordinances that impact my business. Would you care to discuss it and save both of us a boring read?” Celestia stifled a look of disappointment that I was just able to discern. “Very well,” she conceded before moving to the other side of the suite with her. Annuity observed and patiently waited for Celestia to be out of earshot. When she felt she was clear, the filly sat up in her seat and looked me over with disdain. “Are you so ill-mannered, or just etiquette-blind? Waltzing in here looking like that!" I inhaled, and readied the words to respond, but I quickly changed course. “I’m not even going to ask. And also, the second one.”     Annuity’s disappointment showed through her scowl. “Obviously I’m talking about clothes. Surely, you’re not telling me that you don’t own clothes? Even with the princess treatment and everything?” “No, I don’t. I’m trying to watch the game, so if you would leave me alone that’d be great.” “What a feeble excuse. The game went to halftime. There’s nothing going on!” “That cheer show is something; otherwise the alternative is continuing to talk to you.” Annuity pursed her lips in distaste. A cheap one-liner, but it worked. She took a moment to regroup. “Yeah, it makes sense you’d be all for the violent part of stallions headbutting each other.” Annuity smoothed over her mane with a hoof. “A mare’s eye for the game takes years to develop.” “You don’t seem to dislike the violence from what I can gauge.” I paused as a thought occurred to me. “Before, you made fun of me for being effeminate, and now I’m too much of a tomcolt? Make up your mind, would you?” “As if that’s on me. I’m not the one lying about my gender.” “So? There are different expectations for colts and fillies where I’m from,” I lazily provided. It was true, but it didn’t make much sense as a response in hindsight. Annuity seemed irritated by my nonchalance. “Neighbraska may be a hick place, but it can’t be that different. It’d be one thing if you were one way or the other, but you’re too much a filly for a colt and, too much a colt for a filly.  The thing is that you’re clearly too—oh, Princess Celestia! Hi!” Saved. I wasn’t even a little bit curious, about what Annuity was going to say next. “If I’m not mistaken, did I hear an argument?” Celestia innocently intoned. Annuity shook her head emphatically. “An argument? Of course not. No, no arguments here. It was just a minor clash of opinions. River told me he didn’t think the Brookers storied history was a good reason to be a fan.” Celestia petted me. “River, I thought I’d raised you better than that," she said joshingly. "Having witnessed the franchise establish itself from the ground up, I can tell you that it’s been a wonderful journey as a fan.” I quickly conjured a rejoinder, but paused when it occurred to me how strange it was to be invested in this exchange. “That’s all well and good,” I said, pensively, “but considering Annuity hasn’t been alive for nearly that long, isn’t she just joining the bandwagon?” Luna happily pranced towards me. “Huzaah! Well said, young River. Would you care to ‘bump hooves?’” It took me an awkward second before I lightly bumped my tiny hoof on hers. “Now Sister, as I always say, the real bandwagon is made up of those who became Nauticals fans after they drafted Short Stuff. Where were you through all the losing?” Luna posed dramatically, indignant. “I. Was on. THE MOON!” Celestia playfully tossed her mane. “My point still stands.”    The sisters very briefly embraced and walked across the room. Annuity looked both ways before continuing. “Ahem. As I was saying, the real reason I can’t stand you right now is that ever since you ascended in the most obnoxious fashion, I—” “Oh, River,” Celestia casually interjected. “I’m going on a snack run. Do you want anything?” Why would you do it yourself when you have so many guards? Whatever. “Yeah, get me one of those ‘pretzel’ things. I liked those.” Annuity tapped her front hoof on her chair as she waited, clearly annoyed. Meanwhile, the hoofballers began taking the field again to discuss the gameplan for the second half. It was remarkably easy to spot Squirt’s dad in the huddle. The other players were among the largest stallions I had ever seen, but Short Stuff, compared to the largest player I could spot on the Nauticals’ bench, was smaller by at least as much height as Bulwark had on me.   I frowned. I suppose it’s still possible we can make up, but she was pretty upset... “—the worst part is that you went after mine!” Annuity ranted. I blinked and looked her over, as if somehow expecting to infer what she had just finished saying. I then realized that I didn’t care. “I don’t want yours. Not everything you have is something to covet.” For a vague guess of a response, it sure unnerved her. Accompanied by a sour facial expression, her mane seemed to become somewhat more prickly. “So you do think you’re better than me!?” I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m satisfied with what I have. Or had, anyway.” A quick jolt traveled through me. Oh darn! Did I just imply I didn’t like being an alicorn. That won’t go over so well… Annuity looked genuinely offended. It was a nice optic. “You—you have the nerve to say that when—” “I’m back,” Celestia said serenely. Annuity flinched. “Oh you’re back already? Not that that’s a problem, or anything.” “Here’s your pretzel River.” I eagerly grabbed it and bit off a corner. It did not disappoint. As I savored the salty taste, it was as if I could transcend my currently dour social environment. Bringing me back to the moment, Celestia regarded me warmly, as if telegraphing an unspoken understanding. “It was three bits,” Celestia indicated casually, as if routine. For a moment I was puzzled. While I did have my bit purse, why would she… Oh... As complex as my feelings toward the alicorn mare were, I was blown away by the small opportunity she had presented me with. “Okay, three bits,” I announced as I hooved them over. I suppose arena food was overpriced in any world, but in this case I was glad to overpay my own way. Both of us studied Annuity’s complexion carefully as our charade ran its course. Over a few seconds it somehow devolved from confused curiosity to lingering guilt. “You—you buy your own concessions?” Annuity asked in disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, smug. “Nothing’s free—even for princesses.” Celestia provided. “Oh, excuse me. I seem to have left my program with Building Block. Be right back,” Celestia said to once again dismiss herself. Those programs are free. Why would she.... Oh, I get it... Glancing at Annuity again, I saw her scanning the room, anticipating Princess Celestia’s prompt return. When it didn’t happen immediately, I saw the emotion she was channeling before return, as if somepony had left her on pause. “You were saying…” I muttered, bored. “That pendant. That right there is everything you took from me!” It was a childish and outlandish thing to say, yet this felt different from any conversation I could ever recall having with Annuity. I could tell that she wasn’t just being the spoiled, melodramatic squeaky toy she usually was. “What do you mean?” I acquiesced by asking.   “Bubble Bauble! You stole Bubble Bauble from me!” She shrieked as a tear fell loose. “Huh? But she said it was a peace offering—that she didn’t want to be friends! So why would you—” “I know what she said! But I get to hear what she really thinks—that it’s her dream to make accessories for a princess. If—if that’s her dream, then I know she’ll choose you!” “I barely know her!” I barked back, beginning to react to her agitation. “Besides, you have plenty of follow—errr—friends.” “Followers?! You’re one to talk—” “I’m back!” Celestia announced, with a broad, knowing grin. “Oh yes, followers— River, be sure to treat the ponies that look up to you well. Don’t treat them as stand-ins for real friends, though; some just want to ride your fetlocks. Right, Princess?” “Hmm… that sounds right...” Celestia mused. Annuity self-consciously combed her reddish mane. “I’ve got plenty of friends. I’m not jealous, or anything, you know?” Annuity forced a laugh. I took advantage of the lull to take a big bite out of my pretzel. “If you say so,” Celestia provided unhelpfully. Awkward silence ensued. Given the ponies involved I took it on myself to end it quickly. “You said this was a home game for the Nauticals, so why is everypony cheering for the Brookers. I know they both have Canterlot in the name, but the cheer squad and PA announcer are for the Nauticals. What’s the deal? I thought that meant the Nauticals would have more fans.” “That’s just a Brookers-Nauticals matchup for you: the crowd will always be for this town’s more prestigious franchise,” Celestia explained. I suppose if most ponies are for the other team, I wouldn’t want to go against the majority… I felt the temptation to smack myself. What a pony thing to think! Following the herd mentality. “Oh, the game is starting again,” I said, pointing out the obvious with the hope of dispelling the unusual sensation of Annuity’s veiled hostility. “Oh, ponyfeathers,” Celestia said unconvincingly. "I forgot my tiara in the restroom. I must take my leave, however briefly. Be back so~on.” Celestia cantered off happily. Okay, now I know she’s doing it on purpose. Annuity watched Celestia exit the box seats area and for a minute afterwards checked her surroundings timidly, as if she expected Celestia to teleport back in at any moment. Then again, I suppose she actually could... Annuity sighed; then she took a deep breath. “You may think you can push me around now that you have the masses on your side, but I won’t have it! You think I don’t know about your Anti-Annuity Alliance?’ I fought back my initial impulse to better consider my response. There wouldn’t be any sense in antagonizing her further. If I were to rebuff her, I’d want to do it in a witty fashion. “If I’m to be honest, it could just as easily be called The Alliance That Doesn’t Do Anything. We met at a soda joint one time. That’s about it.” Annuity hesitated as if she disagreed. “Well keep it that way! I may not be able to do anything about your princess posse, but stay out of my way! It’s my school and a set of wings, and a horn won’t change that!” She commanded. “Oh, Princess Celestia! How long have you been there?” I remarked jovially. Annuity glared at me, as if branding me a liar. When the heavy hoofbeats came into earshot, however, her ears drooped. “P—princess Celestia… It’s not what it sounds like...” Annuity squeaked, as bashful as I had ever seen her. Celestia leaned close to us to whisper. “No need to pretend, Annuity. I know you’re Canterlot First’s little bully.” Annuity somehow looked pale, which was pretty impressive given the fur and everything. “How did you…” “Oh, you have quite a reputation, young lady. Or did you not consider that word would get back to me after trying to hurt my student, Pink Diamond?”     Annuity’s mane suddenly became frazzled, as if combed by a statically charged grooming tool. “I—eeeep!” The filly had tried to hop out of her seat a little too quickly, which sprung back into a retracted position and pinched her tail. I could see the tears in her eye, that she was trying to fight back. Celestia showered Annuity with stern disapproval without uttering a word. “What… what will you do…” Annuity stammered. Celestia hummed. “Beg your pardon?” Annuity froze. Being asked to verbalize her guilt and consequences was too much for her to bear, and a long minute passed. “If you’re asking if I’m going to punish you, the answer is no,” the alicorn finally said, mercifully. Annuity was momentarily happy before confusion set in. Celestia patted my foreleg with a wing. “After all, I already have River on site to do the princessing for me. It’s outside of my jurisdiction.” If I knew Celestia, there were probably unenumerated political considerations preventing her from smothering the underwhelming threat of a schoolyard bully. “Hey! Annuity!” said an emerald pegasus with a bronze mane as she dive bombed into the seat next to Annuity. “Oh, Nest Egg. What took you so long?” Annuity asked, basking in the relief of the welcome distraction. “The team store is really neat! You should’ve come with me. You too, Princess River!” As much as I disliked being labeled as peppy myself, this word fit the bill for Annuity’s gift sister. “Our dad’s back too. Come on!” the pegasus urged. Annuity curtsied. “Nice catching up with you, River. See you Monday.” Celestia waved as Annuity slowly backed away, before finally turning around and galloping the short distance to the other side of the area. “Well, that was fun,” Celestia giggled, clearly pleased with herself. “Oh great master, teach me your ways,” I said facetiously. “Sure, but first there’s a game to watch, and unless you had a change of heart, we’re on different sides.” “Absolutely not, I’m not pulling for Annuity’s team! Let’s go Nauticals!” Witnessing my team’s first win as a newly minted fan almost made up for me having to put up with Annuity. Almost. I pranced out of the athletics facility with a feeling of bittersweet satisfaction. Although I beat out my competition, there was no denying that my athleticism continued to wane as my body’s age continued in reverse. “Wow, River that was mighty fun,” Applebloom said, breathing only slightly heavily. “That reminds me of the Sisterhooves Social with all the obstacles and everythin’.” “Ha… yeah, except Rainbow Dash isn’t here to see how awesome I am!” Scootaloo said after a long breath in. Sweetie Belle was dragging her hooves as we walked out of the reception area. We made it about ten feet before the unicorn filly collapsed onto the cobblestone. “I… I thought... my cutie mark... would make me more… have more energy” “Yeah, River you don’ even have yours!” Applebloom remarked. I spun about to face her. “My endurance is an earth pony’s. The skill is all my own!” Out of the corner of my eye, I was able to spot Star Chart in the clouds. This pegasus feat of telescopic vision served as a reminder of my enhanced alicorn senses. It also served as a reminder that I was under constant supervision for this outing with my “sort of friends.” Once Sweetie Belle had recovered, we continued trotting along with no particular destination in mind. “I don’ get it. You know you like running and the like, but you still don’ have your cutie mark. Why’s th—” “It must not be her special talent,” Scootaloo interjected. Sweetie Belle stopped to contemplate something. “What is it, Sweetie Belle?” Applebloom asked. “Is there a difference between what she likes and what makes her happy?” Sweetie mused. “Could be,” I provided, finally participating in the conversation about myself. “And I thought we agreed that this isn’t about getting my cutie mark. You’re helping me have fun and we’ve done that.” “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like a job well done yet. Normally our cutie marks can tell us when it’s mission accomplished,” Scootaloo insisted. Beginning to recognize my surroundings, I could tell we were nearing the park. Whether the fillies had planned it that way, or not was a mystery. In a way, mirroring me getting my bearings in terms of location, I spontaneously started to take stock of my life. I was hanging out with fillies and trying to make things work as a pony. In some ways I resisted, while others were welcome changes. But that fear of losing myself was constantly there. Will I just slowly be changed without realizing it? So slow that I don’t even have the cue to put up resistance… “What’s the matter, River?” Applebloom asked, curious. “Oh, just some complicated… homesickness, I guess you could call it…” Before she could inquire further I countered with my own question: “You know, when Celestia said she put together a team to help me de-stress, I never thought it’d be you three. Actually,   I was relieved that you would be the ones to help me, as opposed to some misguided social worker…” Or Pinkie Pie. “Why River, that makes it sound like you already knew us,” said Applebloom teasingly. “Oh, umm… that’s—I don’t know what you mean.” “You’re certainly a different type of filly,” said Sweetie. “Not that that’s a bad thing.” “I… I…” Scootaloo waved her hoof dismissively and then started fixing her somewhat unkempt mane as she interrupted me: “Well, being an alicorn is pretty unusual I guess.” “That must be it,” I said all too quickly, wanting to get off the subject as soon as possible. “We made it!” Sweetie cheered as we crossed over the grassy perimeter of the park. I took a moment to sniff the freshly cut grass and the chin-level flowers. I found their aroma more appealing than usual, but I took a pause when I realized I probably wanted to eat them. The park was much as I remembered it: foals running around, elderly ponies feeding an assortment of birds and even an aspiring artist painting the scene. “So did you plan coming here, or not?” I asked. “Planned!” Scootaloo shouted emphatically, as if gloating. “We had a back-up plan,” Sweetie explained. “We thought you might be like us. We spent so much time focusing on what we hadn't tried, or wanted to do, that we completely ignored our real talent—helping others.” “But how does that relate to me?” I asked, beginning to hope they’d fibbed and not thought this through. “Well I reckon it’s mighty hard to have fun by yourself,” Applebloom provided. “Other ponies can teach you things too!” said Sweetie. “Helps you figure out who you are.” “And alicorns have to help ponies anyway, right?” Scootaloo argued. “It just might work for you!” I already get enough of that at school… I thought, contemplating whether to voice my feelings. “—and we did what you wanted, so now you can try what we want to do. That only makes it fair.” I opened my mouth to speak, and only then did it occur to me I had no riposte ready. I sighed. “I guess…” “Great!” Sweetie cheered. “Everypony fan out! When you find a pony that needs advice about themself, bring them with you. We’ll meet up by that tree.” “Got it! I’ll look over there then!” Scootaloo announced. The three of them darted off in different directions before I could contemplate how little direction they had given me. I sighed. This won’t be fun… “You know, I like knitting and bowling and origami and swimming, you know. So many things, you know!” said my pale yellow mentee. “Well which do you like best?” I inquired, clearly having no idea what I was doing. "I mean, I guess you could do all those activities at camp, but which hobby does the best to define you?” “I don’t know,” she said. "Can you tell me?” “Why would I tell you what to think?” I asked, feeling gullible for even asking. “My mommy says alicorns know best!” I looked to the so-called crusaders for an assist, but they apparently didn’t discern the message. “Uh-huuuh,” I uttered, exasperated. “I’ve had my mark for quite some time now. I’m proud of it, like anypony would be, but I am a little let down.” “What do you mean?” I asked, relieved at apparent progress. “What don’t you like about your mark?" He massaged his unusual poofy, gray mane. “What do you mean? I love cooking; it is my passion.” He… he just said— “It’s just that I find it too limiting at times, if you get what I’m saying.” “Limiting how?” At this rate, I won’t need a therapist. I basically am one right now! “It’s just that as much as I love a gourmet meal, I want to do more than cook. I want to concoct new drinks that will dazzle the taste buds.” I let the obvious sink in for a moment before voicing it: “You know, there’s nothing stopping you from making drinks too.” “I—I… never thought of that.” I couldn’t refrain from facehooving. “I don’t know, girls. I think this is a dead end. I haven’t learned anything.” “You… might be right,” Sweetie confessed. Scootaloo stomped a hoof. “No, I’m sure this will work. Keep trying!” “HEY, River! I found somepony!” Applebloom shouted as she galloped towards the tree. “Here he is!” Looking down the little hill, a familiar green and gray colt came into view. “Thaumaturgical Spectacle!?” I shouted in surprise. When not shortened, his name never stopped being silly to say. “Woah, River? What a coincidence! I didn’t know you had so many filly friends. I suppose it makes sense that you would hang out with them instead now.”   “I didn’t think you would need cutie mark counselors,” I commented, hoping to break the ice. “Yeah, I joined the JRG hoping to figure out my cutie mark, remember?” “Oh, right...” That felt so long ago now. “Enough small talk. Let’s get to investigating!” Scootaloo declared. “So, Canterlot was actually chosen as the capital because it had history with all three races. The earth ponies originally discovered the area and its fertile soil. The pegasi built one of Equestria’s first weather factories in the clouds above, in the now abandoned Canterlot Heights. And the unicorns? We all know the story of the Order of the Master Librarians. They were unicorns that not only changed magic, but changed how we thought of magic. Whereas previously magic was limited by the number of discrete spells that could be formulated, the Order fostered the theory of interchangeable mana. Which although that theory is now defunct, from its ashes rose something greater—” Scootaloo yawned, while the other crusaders did their best to listen politely. It took me a second to realize Thaumaturgical was looking at me for input. “Well your mark is sparks, so maybe that’s to ‘spark’ a conversation with your interesting trivia.” I proposed. “It’s possible,” Spectacle admitted. “That’s not quite what I want to do, though. I’m not that much of a talker. It’s just fun to share with Beakington and whoever else will listen.” A half-formed thought rapidly coalesced in my head, but it immediately faded. “I guess we need to try something else,” I acknowledged weakly. “Here we have a Yakyakistani beetle. You can best identify it by its pair of hooked horns. They’re useless as weapons, but it’s how they evolved to deter birds from snatching it up. Here you go!” I tried to hold back my disgust as Spectacle foisted the insect on me. My first thought was that it was harder than I expected it to be. I began to thank the heavens for the decreased sensitivity of hooves versus hands, but almost as soon as I had thought so, it started squirming around and I dropped it. I was a little bit surprised when Thaumaturgical let it run off. Instead, he lit up his horn and a fallen leaf resonated with his magic. In a slow and orderly fashion, a small unit of ants marched on top of it, loading up like passengers on a ferry. Except they’re already at their destination. And there’s no water. Okay, that one was a bad analogy. “How does that spell work, anyway?” I asked, somewhat bashful about my distracted train of thought. Thaumaturgical lit up. “You see, it draws organic components from the nearby flora and rearranges them into forms that emit a scent that imitates ant pheromones.” I nodded. I was at least somewhat interested in what he was saying. “You really do like insects. I know there’s not a straightforward connection to your mark, but that has to be your passion, right?” Thaumaturgical shook his head. I looked around to the three filly career counselors and they seemed just as confused as I was. Scootaloo was fidgeting, Applebloom had a look of concentration that nonetheless failed to hide her impatience, and Sweetie Belle struck me as worried. “Oh, look. This ant has a three-segment body. That means it’s a future queen!” “How do you even see that?” I asked. My vision had improved as far as distance went, but I was no better than before at perceiving tiny things up close. “Well, there’s a spell I use on my glasses when I’m out searching for bugs. It has a simple magnification effect, but it works by essentially creating multiple small sets of glasses within each lens. In other words, it uses compounded magnification!” I felt the obvious slap me in the face. Wait a minute…is it really that simple?   I shuffled my feet slightly. “Sorry if this is obvious, or if you’ve heard this before, but could your talent be explaining, or teaching, magic?” Spectacle looked down. “So you think so too, huh?” he asked. I looked to the crusaders for support, and on cue, Scootaloo jumped into the fray. “Wait a minute! You already had an idea about your cutie mark!?” “Yes… but I didn’t want—I… I don’t know what I want.” “Whatever your talent is it’s special because it’s yours, and nopony can take it away from you!” Applebloom provided tritely, albeit energetically. I studied Thaumaturgical carefully. While pony facial expressions and body language were still a challenge for me, even I could tell that there was something deeper at work. I inhaled. “I can understand why you don’t want that to be your talent. I certainly can’t see you in Ms. Fizzle’s job.” The unicorn colt nodded, bidding me to continue. “Oh, and I have a magic teacher now, and he must be getting impatient with me. He’s an academic and knows so much, but he’s stuck mentoring me, a lousy student.” Spectacle shook his head. “I don’t think you can call yourself a lousy student, at least not yet. Magic can be difficult for some ponies and natural as breathing to others. You’re just starting out.” My pleasant expression cracked as I started to wonder how many times I would carelessly undermine the false notion that I just got my horn. “You are right I think,” Spectacle added. “Teaching isn’t what I want to do. At least not to foals. Other than maybe Clever Theorem, the ponies in our class don’t want to be there. Most of the time, even I don’t want to be there.” Sweetie Belle faintly frowned, perplexed. “I suppose you could always teach older ponies at a university…” “Yeah, you can teach that fancy magic theory Twilight loves to talk about,” Applebloom said, hopeful, in an attempt to inject positivity into the discussion. “I don’t know,” Thaumaturgical said, for what felt like the fifth time. “I guess what I like is learning new spells and testing them.” “Why don’t you do that then?” Scootaloo asked, not even bothering to conceal her impatience. Thaumaturgical sighed. “I’ve asked myself that, but I’ve never come up with a career, or even an idea for contributing to society. Besides, I don’t want to lock myself in a room studying new spells; I’m not that type. I want to share magic with others, but…” I scanned the crusaders, vainly hoping they had an idea better than mine. “But you don’t want to be a teacher?” Scootaloo asked rhetorically. “Yeah, I know it’s confusing. Sorry,” Thaumaturgical apologized, resignedly. I guess it’s up to me. I thought. My idea is kind of lame and obvious. It then occurred to me that lame and obvious solutions had a tendency to be effective, at least when dealing with foals. I sighed. “I know you’ve thought about this a lot more than us, but could you maybe be a sort of magic consultant?” The unicorn colt looked like he was scrutinizing the ground while in thought. “Could something like that work?” He asked to nopony in particular. “Sure it can!” Sweetie Belle interjected.  "My sister knows lots of spells related to her talent. But she’s always talking with other seamstresses and designers. Sometimes they even exchange spells.” Thaumaturgical perked up slightly. “Really?” “Yeah!” “I think so.” “Definitely.” “Sure!” we all blurted out at once. The colt spent several moments pondering something. “I get to learn about new spells, and I get to explain, while helping ponies learn them. You know, I might be okay with that.” We all cheered—myself included. After the mutual congratulations were done, we walked to the outer perimeter of the park. I didn’t want a mark myself; I only knew what I saw. Squirt was somewhat happy to get his even. With that in mind, this was the second time I had encountered an ambiguous mark. I didn’t know how Spectacle must have been feeling. Unity of purpose perhaps? My stomach churned. Yeah, I used to have that… It had felt like a living necessity when I had had it, but despite some discomfort, I had survived the sundering. Still, it had left a profound existential vacuum within me. “...now I think I’d just like to share with my friends for now. I’m not at the point where I could peddle myself as an expert. Right, River?” “River?” “Oh, uh…. Sorry. Got lost in thought there. What were you saying?” I asked, somewhat embarrassed. “Oh, nothing big,” said Spectacle. “I know! Maybe I can help you. Since you’re secondary school age, they probably have you working on the resonance method!” “Yeah, that’s right!” I replied pleasantly surprised. It only occurred to me later to facehoof over the fact that despite having a non-trivial headstart with magic that he didn’t know about, I was still at stage one. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were observing us carefully, as if admiring their handiwork. “Hmm… have you tried the periphery method?” Thaumaturgical asked, rubbing his chin. “What now? For obvious reasons, I don’t know the terminology yet.” “Oh, basically it’s that you try to resonate with the surrounding air as a conduit to your target object. I don’t know, I don’t think I know better than your teacher. I just like helping my friends.” “No problem,” I replied. I almost touched him, as if instinctually. “I mean—” “Uhh… River!?” Shocked somewhat by the sudden seriousness of his tone, I stood at attention. To my surprise he was looking quite a bit nervous. “What is it Spectacle?” “We—we are still friends, right?” I froze. It would be very easy for me to say yes, but I didn’t want to speak a previously ethereal status quo into existence. At the same time, I had no desire to hurt him by denying it. “Why wouldn’t we be?” I asked, hoping to deflect the question. The young colt sighed. “I mean, you’re a filly now. Everypony knew it but me. I know you have a lot of different obligations now. I don’t know if you even have the time for me anymore. I just—” I lightly stomped a hoof. “Stop!” I urged, a fair bit more commandingly than I would have liked. “If we were friends before, we’re friends now. It’s like I told Squirt: I’m happy when ponies don’t change how they treat me. You were there, weren’t you?” Thaumaturgical looked down again. “But… were we friends before?” I scowled at my perfect evasion being foiled. “What do you mean?” I asked, already disliking where this was heading. “Were we really friends before? You seemed so distant...” I joined him in staring at the ground. I took a deep breath and let loose a deeper sigh. “Yes, we were friends. We are friends.”   For as hard as it was to say, I was rewarded with one of the most expressive and spontaneous smiles I had yet encountered. “Good work, girls!” Applebloom remarked. It took me a long second to appreciate that this included me now. I let them talk amongst themselves for a while as I thought back at what exactly had happened. I knew I didn’t want to make Thaumaturgical sad, but I still felt like I had committed to a vague but sizable slate of future obligations. “—your cutie mark too, right, River?” A full second later, I put on the brakes and stopped on a dime. “Oh, I am okay not having my mark for now. I have lots of time, you know. I honestly don’t know what the big deal is.” The three of them huddled together for a couple of seconds before facing me once more. “You know, River, you’re a bit of a strange pony—but not in a bad way,” Sweetie assured me. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?” Applebloom asked with heavy uncertainty. “I—well, didn’t Twilight—” A crystal clear memory of Bulwark’s disappointment passed through my mind’s eye. “I—I’m Aron.” I said suddenly. “We met a few months ago.” Scootaloo’s wings did the buzzing thing I saw Zephyr Zap’s do on occasion. “WOAH! Really!?” “How’d you become an alicorn, anyway?” Applebloom asked. “But weren’t you a human… stallion?” Sweetie Belle asked, bashful. Under pressure, I felt a single tear in my eye. “Yes… it—it’s a long story.” “We’ve got a long walk back to the castle, so let’s hear it!” I sighed This is going to be painful. “It’s nice to have friends, isn’t it?” came a faint, familiar female voice. “Uhh, girls? Which one of you said that?” The crusaders had blank looks on their faces. “Nevermind. Anyway, it all started when Celestia brought me To Equestria. I was…”