Sugar Cube Corner – That same afternoon
Low murmurs greeted Applejack and Rainbow Dash when they entered the bakery, accompanied by stares directed at the new alicorn.
“Hello, you two!” Mr. Cake waved at them from behind the counter. “Congratulations on becoming an alicorn, Applejack.”
“Thank you kindly, Mr. Cake.” AJ tipped her hat.
“We were hoping to talk to Pinkie.” Rainbow flew over to the counter. “Is she around?”
“I think she's in her secret party planning cave that's not really a secret anymore,” said the baker. “I'll go check real quick.”
“It's alright, we can go check ourselves,” said Dash, “if that's okay with you.” Planting her hoof on her forehead, she added, “Pony, I think Fluttershy's rubbing off on me.”
Mr. Cake laughed. “It's considerate of you to ask, but you girls are more than welcome to go back and look for Pinkie. Just be quiet – the twins are taking a nap.”
Nodding in gratitude, the two mares walked past the counter and through the back door toward the living quarters. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon grew fainter, and notes of wood and latex became stronger as they climbed the staircase toward Pinkie's bedroom.
“There's gotta be more direct way to go from the ground floor to the basement,” commented Applejack as they reached the landing at the top of the staircase.
Rainbow shrugged, making a little humming sound. “It's Pinkie Pie,” she said simply.
Applejack knocked lightly on the door and listened for a reply. There was only silence.
“I'm sure she's in her party planning cave,” said Rainbow. “Let's go.”
She opened the door and trotted inside, Applejack following her and stopping in the center of the room. Dash continued on toward the large ice cream cone and pressed the top, causing it to collapse. AJ slid down into the trap door, and Rainbow darted over and slipped down after her, tucking all six of her limbs into her body to reduce drag and pick up speed.
Applejack landed on her feet, stumbling forward just a couple of steps, and Rainbow went down behind her, spreading her wings and lifting into the air to avoid hitting her friend.
The most fitting description of Pinkie's secret party planning cave was organized chaos. Shelves lined one wall, each section holding different party supplies. The 'chaos' part of the picture came into play with stalactites made out of cotton candy and chocolate cupcakes the size of easy chairs stacked between the shelves and the filing cabinets. Applejack started to wonder what Pinkie would even do with cupcakes that size, but that way lay madness.
Currently, Pinkie was sitting on the floor with an array of deflated balloons, rolls of streamers, bags of confetti, and other sundry party decorations spread around her. She looked up at her two friends with a dazzling grin.
“Hi Applejack! Hi Rainbow Dash! So, I'm thinking of using red, orange, yellow, and green for the the decorations. Do you think that would be too . . . What's the word? Autumnal for this time of year?” Her expression became serious as she rubbed her chin. “I could throw in some pink, or maybe a lighter shade of green.”
“I like green,” said AJ. “But we came to talk to you about somethin' else.”
“Yeah, Pinkie, what do you have against becoming an alicorn princess?” Rainbow stepped in front of Applejack. “What do I have to say to talk you into it like I did with AJ?”
“Whoa there, partner.” Applejack put her hoof on Dash's back. “I never said I was okay with becomin' a princess.”
“What?” Rainbow glanced over her shoulder at her. “You sure didn't say you weren't okay with it, the way you were hugging me. I kind of assumed you had embraced being a princess, too.”
“I was embracin' you bein' supportive, but you're gonna have to try a bit harder to convince me to become royalty.”
Dash dragged her hoof over her face.
“Aw, don't feel bad, Dashie!” Pinkie smiled. “It's like I told you the other day, I just don't want other ponies to feel like I'm too good for them, or that I think I'm too good for them.”
“Literally nopony will think that about you!” Rainbow thrust her foreleg at the party planner. “You're Pinkie Pie, friend to all ponies – no, to all speaking creatures! Everyone knew you when you were just an earth pony party planner, and they'll always remember that that's who you really are.” Her eyes lit up as her speech gained momentum. “Just like everyone remembers Applejack for being just an earth pony farmer, and they remember Twilight as just an egghead – I mean, a unicorn scholar!”
“That's a good point, but I want to wait until more of our friends ascend before I do. That way, becoming an alicorn will actually make me fit in! If I did it now, I'd still stand out!”
Rainbow raised her eyebrow – her eyebrow-raising skills had a long way to go before they reached Applejack's level. “When have you ever worried about standing out?”
“Lots of times!” Pinkie held up her hoof. “Our Town, all the times we went to the Crystal Empire, and . . .” She shook her head. “There are plenty of times where it's better to blend in, all right?”
“So wear a hood to cover your horn if you wanna blend in.”
Pinkie shook her head. “I guess . . . It's hard to explain, but in order to ascend, I'm pretty sure I'd have to teleport back to the Thaumic Plane, and that place is scary! And not in a fun way.” She turned to face the new alicorn. “You know what it's like, Applejack. You can't feel the earth or the air, but somehow you can still stand and breath, and there's nothing but pure magic pressing in on you!”
AJ nodded, looking from Pinkie to Rainbow. “Everythin' you said is true, but it's not as scary if you have a friend there with you.” Placing her hoof on Pinkie's shoulder, she added, “Dash is right – you shouldn't let fear hold you back, if that's the only thing.”
Pinkie drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, you two are right. Maybe I'll become an alicorn sooner than I thought. But I'm still not ready to be a princess. Let's face it, my leadership skills are the worst out of our group of friends, and that includes Spike.”
Dash pursed her lips. “Maybe in some ways, but don't sell yourself short too much. You're still the best party planner in Equestria, and that takes some organizational skills. I know you've hired freelance workers and given them instructions. Heck, you got Princess Celestia's attention when she had the Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville!”
Applejack shook her head at her. “Uh-uh,” she murmured.
“No?” Dash scratched her head. “But I talked with Celestia when she came early to make preparations. She told me she had a special job for Pinkie, but she wouldn't tell me what it was.”
“She did?” Applejack's eyes widened.
“Yeah she did!” Pinkie beamed. “She told me to plan a 'welcome to Ponyville' party for Twilight!”
“Ohhh. Princess Celestia told you to do that?”
“Yepperooni!” Pinkie nodded, her forelock bobbing.
AJ lifted her foreleg. “Don't you already do that for everypony?”
“Well, yeah, but usually not the day they arrive! And I don't have time to throw 'welcome to Ponyville' parties individually anymore – now it's a weekly group party.”
Smiling, Applejack said, “I guess Princess Celestia has a mischievous streak.”
“The point is,” Dash said firmly, “that Princess Celestia trusted you to plan the perfect surprise party for Twilight. And you can be trusted with more responsibility as you gain more experience.” She put her hoof on Pinkie's shoulder. “You can do this, Pinkie.”
Pinkie's blue eyes shone, this time with a layer of unshed tears. “Thank you, Dashie. If you believe in me, how can I not believe in myself?” She pulled her friend into a hug, which Rainbow returned.
“Yep, I still got it,” muttered Dash.
“I'm still going to wait until after AJ's not-a-coronation party to ascend.” Pinkie withdrew and turned toward her other friend. “I wouldn't want to steal the spotlight on your special day.”
“Oh, uh, about that. Have you seen the invitations?” asked Applejack.
“Of course, silly!” replied Pinkie, bobbing her head. “I wrote them!”
“I mean, after the copies were printed and, uh, glittered?”
“Yeah, I had to see them to put them in the envelopes.” Pinkie shrugged.
Applejack leaned toward her. “Did you get a good look at 'em?”
“I guess not. What was I supposed to look for?” Pinkie tilted her head.
“The 'not' in 'not-a-coronation' got covered in glitter, and so did the 'non' in 'non-princesses,'” explained Rainbow.
“We don't know if all of 'em are like that, but the two that we saw were,” added Applejack.
“So everypony might think it is a coronation party. Oh, that is a pickle.” Pinkie tapped her chin. “But I'm an expert party planner – I can make this work without you having to get coronated before you're ready!”
“I don't think that's a word,” muttered Dash.
Pinkie ignored her. “What if I hang up a huge banner in front of the castle that says 'Not-a-coronation Party'? That way ponies will get at least a little bit of warning about what to expect from the party! I could make an announcement at the beginning, too, for those who can't read or who don't pay attention to signs.”
“I reckon that could work,” Applejack nodded. “Good idea, Pinkie.”
Rainbow beamed. “See, that's the kind of initiative I was talking about!”
Pinkie waved her foreleg. “Aw, shucks.” Then her eyes widened as she remembered something. “Oh! Did I tell you Maud is in town? She stopped by here about an hour ago.”
“Yeah, Twilight told us she's coming to help with the life infusion project,” said Rainbow. “She's bringing some meters from her school. I should go back there and help research more. Are you two coming with?”
Applejack nodded. “I was fixin' to head over there soon anyway.”
“I got a lot of party planning and baking done this morning, so I can take a little time to go with you.” Pinkie pronged over to the slide and sprang onto it. “Come on!” And she slid up the slide.
Rainbow smirked at Applejack. “Yeah, come on, AJ! You're an alicorn – you can do anything Pinkie can do!” She pointed at the slide.
“Discord's the only other creature who can do that!” Applejack said with conviction.
Dash sighed. “I hate to admit it, but even I would have trouble flying up that shaft – it's too dark and narrow. We'll just have to walk up. Help me find something sticky.”
“That shouldn't be too hard in this house.”
Castle of Friendship
I was quiet as I walked down the hallway toward the room that had been designated for sorting paperwork. The only sounds that accompanied my thoughts were hooves and claws clacking against the hard floor. It angered me that tribalism still persisted to this day. The tribes might not resent each other the way they used to, but there were still ponies who self-segregated and seemed to believe themselves superior to the other tribes.
Before the royal sisters took over the the cycle of the sun and moon, unicorns took great pride in this task. Unicorn mages were viewed as noble martyrs for sacrificing their magic to bring day and night to all the other creatures. Currently, it seemed like the earth pony scholars – or more accurately, earth pony mages – were making the same mistake. The difference was that unicorns lorded their martyrdom over the other tribes, and even the lower class unicorns were looked down on for 'wasting' their magic on nonessential things such as alchemy and illusory spells. But the earth pony mages were hiding their knowledge – why? Were they afraid of what other ponies would do with this information? Were they, like Maud, concerned about the far-reaching consequences of allowing every earth pony to achieve immortality?
“Twilight?” Spike spoke up. “You sure you're okay?”
“There's Fluttershy,” I said. It wasn't an answer to his question, but it was true. Our pegasus friend stepped out of the room that had been designated for paperwork, squirrels scampering before and after her. Fluttershy's eyes focused on the longevity gauge floating in front of me.
“Did Maud show you how to use the readers?” she asked.
“No, I just gave it to her to hold without telling her what to do,” deadpanned Maud.
Fluttershy's face visibly closed off, her mouth forming a tight, straight line.
“That was sarcasm, by the way,” added Maud.
“Um, I was just making conversation.”
One of the squirrels ran up to Maud with his paws spread wide and scolded her with a loud, “Quah-quah, quaaah!”
Maud stared at him. “I've always been better with minerals than tree rats. What's he saying?”
“First of all,” said Fluttershy in an uncharacteristically curt tone, “tree rats are a different species of rodent native to Hosstrailia. But I assume you're using the unflattering slang for squirrels, and I'll thank you not to say that in front of Arven.” Fluttershy pointed to Arven, whose scolding grew more insistent. “And second of all, I can't repeat what Arven is saying in front of Spike.”
“How old do you think I am?” asked Spike.
I loudly cleared my throat. “I'm sorry, but we're getting way off topic. Maud's sorry for offending Arven. Right, Maud?”
“Sure,” said Maud. She didn't exactly sound sincere, but it was always hard to tell with her.
“Anyway, Fluttershy, I'd like to measure your potential lifespan.” I held the instrument closer to her.
Fluttershy's expression relaxed, her wings settling against her flanks. “Of course. Anything for your studies.”
I touched the dial to my friend's foreleg, and the reading showed 227.
“I wish we knew what your lifespan was before the infusion,” commented Rarity.
“Yes, that would be helpful,” agreed Fluttershy. “But I'm sure it couldn't have been much more than a hundred.” She shook her head, letting her forelock fall in front of her face.
“I didn't know earth ponies could add that many years at once,” said Spike.
My quill wiggled as I jotted down each pony's reading. “Well, neither of us even knew earth ponies could magically add years to another pony's life until a few days ago,” I pointed out. “Still, that does seem high.”
“Applejack gave all of her life force to Fluttershy. I wouldn't be surprised if she more than doubled it,” said Rarity.
“That's true. She could have ended up like Granny Smith, or worse!” added Fluttershy with a wince.
“But now we have these meters,” I said, holding aloft the longevity gauge and the vitameter, “to prevent something like that from happening again!”
“I understand you and Applejack were able to infuse your life force into other ponies by using some sort of containment field, is this correct?” asked Maud, blinking at me.
“If by containment field you mean glass tank, then yes,” Spike said in a dry tone.
“Okay,” she said simply. “May I see it?”
“Of course. It's in the throne room. Follow me!” I said, trotting down the hallway.
Just outside Sugar Cube Corner
Rainbow pressed her front hooves together and pulled them apart, feeling the tacky residue left from the double-sided tape she'd used to climb up the slide. “You don't have any hoof sanitizer on you, do you?” It was a faint hope, but she had to ask just to be certain.
Applejack dug her hooves into the dirt road. “Nope. Rub some dirt on it, that's what my pa used to say when we went campin'.”
Dash smirked. “I am so telling Rarity you said that.”
“I don't care – I'll say it to her face.”
Still smirking, Rainbow felt the air currents whisper to her, gently guiding her toward the castle. She sucked in a deep breath.
“AJ,” she announced. “I think now is the perfect time for another flying lesson.”
“Oh, well now, I don't think it would be fair to Pinkie to . . .” Applejack trailed off as Pinkie slowly propelled herself past them, her hooves detached from the ground and her mane spinning like a rotor.
Dash's smirk grew even more pronounced. “You were saying?”
“This works only when it's funny,” said Pinkie with a face-splitting grin. “Lucky for me, it's hilarious right now!”
Castle of Friendship
“Excuse the clutter,” I said to Maud. “We're preparing Thauma Houses to give to the earth pony guests at the party.” Most of them were Apple family members, from what I'd gathered from Applejack.
“Some assembly required,” added Spike, waving his claws at the glass panels leaning against the walls – enough for two dozen rectangular prisms.
“Everypony else will get the treatment,” I said. “Pinkie and Applejack are calling it the best party favor ever!” I finished, not without pride.
Maud's face was as impassive as ever as she walked up to the original glass tank, but it was easy to guess that she was truly unimpressed.
“This is the structure that was used to infuse life force into another pony?” she asked, running her hoof down the smooth surface.
“It does need some etching, or perhaps some stained glass on some of the sides,” commented Rarity.
“We added a safety release on the inside,” Fluttershy spoke up, pointing her foreleg at the metal lever. “That's the important thing.”
“It's airtight,” said Maud. “Completely sterile and inorganic.”
“So when an earth pony pushes out her life force, it has nowhere to go but into the other pony in the enclosure,” I explained.
Maud gave a little nod of understanding. “Of course, both ponies would have to be clean and free of organic debris as well.”
“Exactly.” I placed my hoof on the glass. “With the Thauma House, the vitameter, and the longevity gauge, ponies will finally have total control over the flow of life force.”
“And then it's just one small step toward immortality!” Spike pumped his fist.
Since even the legendary Chancellor Puddinghead hadn't made it to her two thousandth birthday, immortality seemed like a stretch. Still, for all I knew, the gauges hadn't been invented in her time. Maybe if she had had them, she would still be with us.
“And you're planning on giving these Thauma Houses to earth ponies around the country?” asked Maud.
“That's right. At first I was just going to open up a treatment center here at the castle, but I quickly realized that it would be insufficient to meet the demand, as Fluttershy can attest.” I nodded toward my pegasus friend. “The Thauma House and the procedure are so simple that it makes more sense to distribute the tools to earth ponies across Equestria.”
“You said it's dangerous,” noted Maud.
“That's why we're testing it,” I said.
Then our ears swiveled as we heard the flapping of multiple pairs of wings.
Rarity pursed her lips and looked up. “That had better be Rainbow Dash.”
“What's up, everypony?” asked Rainbow as she soared into the throne room. “I brought the rest of the gang!”
Spike tilted his head. “Where are they?”
Dash glanced back over her shoulder and yelled, “Yo, Pinks! AJ! Hurry up!”
Pinkie buzzed into the room via her mane and landed on the floor. “Ta-da! No wings required!” She massaged her scalp. “But now I have a headache.”
“I'm almost afraid to ask, but . . . why do you have a headache?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“You know how when you wear a ponytail too tight, it hurts your scalp? Well it kind of feels like that if you use capillurgy too long. Or at least when I do.”
I added that bit of information to my mental list of limitations to Pinkie Pie's powers.
Maud actually smiled at the sight of her sister, who returned the smile tenfold.
“Applejack,” yelled Rainbow, still staring at the hallway, “I told you to let go of that rope!”
“I'll crash!” Applejack's voice was muffled by something held in her mouth – a rope, based on the context of the conversation.
“No you won't! You'll use your wings to slow yourself like you did when you were cantering on the ground!”
“Sure, it's just like canterin' in three dimensions! No biggie.” Applejack came flapping ungainly into the chamber, pulling a rope that was lassoed around a pony-sized cloud. The rope was slanted downward at a shallow angle, and she looked like she should reach ground level any moment. However, Fluttershy took pity on her and flew up to meet her, taking hold of her front hooves.
“You sure you can hold me?” asked AJ.
“I'm sure the two of us together can hold you,” replied Fluttershy with a reassuring smile.
Applejack released the rope, and the two of them flapped down to the floor.
“You were only five feet above the ground,” Maud pointed out, lifting her foreleg.
“Maud's got a point.” Rainbow crossed her forelegs. “Besides, Applejack's never gonna learn unless she does it herself.”
“Yes, if there's one thing Applejack has a problem with, it's doing things herself,” Rarity said sarcastically.
“Speaking of doing things yourself, do you know how you lassoed the cloud, Applejack?” I spoke up, pointing to the rope that hung slack from the cloud.
AJ's eyes slid over to the lasso before meeting mine. “Uh, desperation?” she guessed, clearly uncertain herself.
“She was actually doing okay until we were about to land in front of the castle,” explained Rainbow. “Then she descended fast and at a steep angle and she seemed like she was losing control, and then she reaches under her hat and pulls the rope out and loops it around the cloud.” She switched tenses as she appeared to relive the moment. “The cloud slowed her descent, but it didn't stop her because her pegasus magic moved it. And here we are,” she finished, waving her forelegs.
“So, Applejack,” I said, slipping into teacher mode – lecture mode might have been a less charitable, but not inaccurate term. “You infused your lasso with your pegasus magic when you picked it up with your hooves. It took me five tries to infuse my pegasus magic into my saddlebags, but you did it intuitively.” I felt equally proud of her and disappointed in myself.
“I s'pose it's because my first instinct when I'm fallin' from someplace high is to catch myself with my lasso,” said Applejack, rubbing the back of her head. “It's different for you.”
“That's true,” I said. “Like you said, you were desperate. Desperation can make you perform magic you never knew you could.”
“I did feel somethin' go out of my hooves.” AJ raised her hoof as if she half expected to see the magic within. “But I was too terrified to pay much attention.”
“I thought pegasi used their wings for magic.” Spike scratched his head.
“Common misconception. We do use magic with our wings, but we use almost as much magic with our hooves,” said Dash, raising both forelegs. “It's how we move clouds and break them up.”
“Ohhh,” said Spike, nodding in understanding.
“So, Rares,” she said, turning to our unicorn friend, “did you find any spells we could use?”
Rarity straightened her posture. “Actually, I discovered something intriguing in the Foalish Manuscript.”
I dug my hoof in my ear in a vain attempt to clean it out. “I'm sorry, it sounded like you said the Foalish Manuscript, but that can't be right.”
“Oh, yes, you heard correctly. Of course I couldn't read the language, but the pictures gave me an idea.” She turned to stare at me. “I was hoping you could tell me what it says so I could have a better idea of what I'm working with.”
I shook my head. “I can't tell you what it says. Nopony can. It's written in a language nopony has seen anywhere else. Hundreds of scholars have tried to decode it, but nopony has ever cracked it. That's why it's called the Foalish Manuscript, because it looks like gibberish. Nopony even knows its real title!”
“Oh.” Rarity's ears drooped for a moment, but then she drew a deep breath. “Well, one of the illustrations inspired me. It showed a pony sleeping, and they had a silvery copy of themselves floating above them, connected by a thin line.”
“That sounds like astral projection,” Fluttershy spoke up. “Treehugger told me about it.”
Rarity's face fell once more. “You mean it's already been done?”
Fluttershy tapped her chin. “I'm not sure. Treehugger just said that she tried to do it, but she couldn't make her consciousness leave her body no matter how much she meditated and how many crystals she collected.”
“Crystals . . .” Rarity lowered her eyebrows in determination. “Perhaps Treehugger's crystals simply weren't powerful enough. Maud said that this castle is a giant crystal.”
“More or less,” said Maud.
“And the Cutie Map is part of the castle . . .”
“Rarity!” I snapped.
Everyone stared at me, and Rarity flinched as if I had physically struck her.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell,” I said, lowering my head. “But what has gotten into you lately, Rarity? First you want to use a time spell, and now you want to use the Map to boost your magic? Did you learn nothing from Starlight Glimmer's mistakes?”
“Who's Starlight Glimmer?” asked Maud.
“You remember the pony I wrote to you about who founded an anti-cutie mark cult and then traveled back in time and almost doomed us all several times over just so she could prevent us from becoming friends?” asked Pinkie before pausing for air.
“Oh. Yes, I remember. You didn't mention her using the Cutie Map.”
“To be fair,” said Spike, raising a claw, “she did realize how wrong she was when Twilight brought her to one of the nightmarish alternate timelines she created.”
I cleared my throat and glanced at him, as it occurred to me that it probably was not the best idea to tell Maud about doomsday scenarios when she was already envisioning one brought about by life infusion.
“What made it nightmarish?” Maud's question could have been taken two different ways.
“Everything was a barren wasteland as far as we could see,” Spike answered promptly. “We never found out what led up to it.”
Maud blinked down at him. “I have a guess.”
There was a pause. “What's your guess?” asked Pinkie.
“Oh, Maud thinks that using too much life infusion will eventually drain the planet's core and destroy life as we know it.” Rarity pawed the floor. “But even if that did happen, it wouldn't be for millions of years. Twilight and Spike went to an alternate version of the present, from what I understand.”
“Is that meant to be reassuring? Because, it isn't,” Maud said bluntly.
“We don't know what happened in that timeline. There was no sign of life, but that doesn't mean that all life on Equus was destroyed. I only saw one part of it.” I was trying to convince myself as much as Maud. “And even if all life was destroyed, we have know way of knowing if life infusion was the cause. It could have been some form of dark magic, for all we know.”
“But it could have been life infusion. Like I said, too much life infusion in a short time could disrupt the core beyond repair.”
“Maybe there's a way to read the longevity of the earth's core, just like that meter measures ponies and dragons.” Fluttershy pointed to the longevity gauge.
“That way you could stop using life infusion if you saw that you were draining too much energy from the core and making it unstable,” added Spike with a nod.
“It's not that simple. The core is so far beneath the surface that it is out of range of all instruments. Ponies and diamond dogs alike have tried to tunnel to the core, but so far no one has been able to reach it. Of course, it would kill anyone who did reach it, except for a dragon.” Maud glanced at Spike.
“What do you want us to do, Maud?” Applejack stepped toward her and removed her hat, holding it in her front hoof. “I want other creatures to have what we have – enough to risk my own life for it. But if we're really riskin' the life of the entire planet, that's not worth it.” She turned to gaze sadly at me.
I frowned. “I guess not, but there has to be a way to extend creatures' lifespans without making everypony an alicorn. I don't even know if that would work with donkeys or zebras.”
“Can't we get a second opinion?” Dash held up her foreleg. “You're smart, Maud, but you're just one pony.”
“There are plenty of smart ponies at the Manehattan College of Earth Studies,” said Maud.
I growled in frustration. “There are smart ponies at Celestia's School of Magic, too.”
“Yes, but the College of Earth Studies has seen to it that the unicorns are ignorant of how life infusion works,” replied Maud.
“They did?” Rainbow narrowed her eyes. “Why would they do that?”
“Because they're elitist jerks,” said Maud. “Don't get me started.”
“Really, don't.” Spike shook his head.
“What about Princess Celestia?” asked Applejack, pricking her ears forward. “She was okay with usin' life pulse on other creatures. Shouldn't she know if it could destroy all life?”
I sighed. “Yes, she was okay with it. But I think she knew there was at least a slim chance that Equus would be ruined. Although,” I added, tilting my head, “I think she was speaking specifically about overpopulation. But she said there are other worlds we could move to if Equus can't adapt.”
Maud was quiet for a beat, her expression as stoic as ever. “Let me see if I've got this straight. Princess Celestia wants to use up this world and move on to the next one?”
“Well, she didn't say that exactly.” Spike rubbed his crest.
Pinkie walked up to her sister, a serious expression on her face as she put her hoof on her shoulder. “It's okay, Maud. If we all put our heads together, I know we can find a way to live on this world, forever!” she finished with an encouraging smile.
“Always the optimist.” Maud put her hoof over her sister's and blinked. “Yes, magic can solve anything. I will try my best to find a way to do just what you said, Pinkie.”