The Once and Future Queen

by SaddlesoapOpera

Refrain

Dinky Hooves sat on the thatched roof a vacant home and watched stones and planks fly past like migrating birds.

The faintly lilac-glowing building supplies were floating in from several directions, all converging on the carved-out mountain where Queen Majesty was assembling her new prison. Well, estate, as she called it. Occasional stray notes from her ongoing melody carried over on the breeze.

“She still going, Dink?” Ruby Pinch popped up in the attic window nearby. “It’s been hours!”

The Dink nodded. 

“Even Princess Twilight would’ve gotten tired by now,” Pinch said as her narrowed eyes followed a soaring slab of masonry bigger than her bed back at home. She frowned. “We’re in deep trouble.”

“Deep trouble, and deep magic,” The Dink said with another nod. “The deepest. I can’t hold something heavy up for more than, like, a minute before my horn starts getting hot. And I can lift … maybe five things at once, if they’re small? How many planks you see right now?” She sighed. “As long as she’s the only one tapping into song-magic, we can’t hope to stand up to her. Sweetie Belle’s our only chance. We’ve gotta figure it out.” She craned her neck to peer toward ground-level. “Any luck yet?”

Pinch sagged. “Nothing. Whatever she did by accident before, she can’t make it happen again on purpose, now.”

The Dink frowned. “Shoot.”

“Uh-huh.” Pinch drew back and nodded for The Dink to follow, and the two of them headed down through the spacious place until they came to an opulent living room with all its expensive furniture and knick knacks shoved to the perimeter to clear up floor space.

Pipsqueak and Spike sat on a bench facing a grand piano pushed into one corner. The Cutie Mark Crusaders sat on a circular rug in the middle of the room, with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom flanking Sweetie while she grimaced in concentration.

“You almost had it, that time, totally!” Scootaloo pressed.

Bloom raised a hoof. “C’mon, one more try!” 

Sweetie heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah … okay. From the top, guys!”

“Righto!” Pip rolled his shoulders and then put the edges of his hooves to the broad keys. 

Spike flexed his claws and did likewise. “A one, and a two …” They both started playing a simple intro.

The backup music jumbled to a halt as Sweetie’s frustrated shout tripped Pip and Spike up.

“I can’t do it!” Sweetie stomped all four hooves in place. “It’s like trying to make yourself sneeze, or something!”

“Maybe you just need some pepper, then?” The Dink commented as she and Pinch approached the trio. 

Sweetie sighed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, we don’t just sing for no reason, usually, right?” The Dink said with a shrug. “Now that I think about it, it’s not really fair to just expect you to turn it on like lighting a match. We don’t decide when it happens. Even Majesty’s got something goin’ on when she sets off her songs. We need, like, a REASON.”

“O’course!” Bloom said as she stood up. “Nothin’s goin’ on! Ya got no topic. No wonder it ain’t workin’!”

Scootaloo shrugged. “I thought the song about the floorboards was pretty okay?”

“No, she’s right, girls,” Sweetie said. “Even if I do figure out how to do what I did again, it’s not happening for no reason.”

The Dink gave a stern nod. “Cool. That settles it.”

“Wait, what?” Bloom cut in. “What settles what, exactly?”

Pinch met The Dink’s sidelong glance, and returned her nod. “This is like Daring Do and the Sunstone Shard. We aren’t getting a dry run — we’re gonna have to do this for real, first time. And soon.”

“You mean we, ah, confront her?” Pip asked cautiously. 

Spike wrung his tail. “Already?”

The Dink shrugged. “It's not great, but it's not like things are getting any easier if we wait. Practicing didn’t work, and that foal prison’s gonna be built by tomorrow, at this rate.” She sniffed and then wiped her nose with a foreleg. “If we’re gonna use song-magic against Majesty, we might as well do it when she’s been working hard all day.”

“We can’t, though!” Bloom shook her head. “No way. Not yet. She’s too good at it!” 

Scootaloo nodded. “Even if we can get Sweetie to do the thing, Majesty’ll just do like she did before, take over the lyrics. Make everypony dance to HER tune.”

The group was silent for a long moment, and then Pip cautiously piped up:

“Ah, well, I suppose we could always take inspiration from when Shadow Chaser fought the Cult of Fiery Doom…”

Everypony else stared in mingled surprise and fascination.

Pip frowned, and waved a hoof toward Pinch and The Dink. “Hmph! It’s not like THOSE two are the only ones who read books, you know!”

“Uh, right, sorry,” Pinch said with a subtle blush. “Anyway though, it we wanna try THAT plan, we’re gonna need a super, SUPER big diversion to even the odds. And since we don’t have any fire monsters around …”

“Yeah,” The Dink said. “We gotta bust out the secret weapon.”

Peachy Pie and Sunny Daze hummed tunelessly and frowned in tongue-out concentration as they rummaged through heaps of puzzle pieces to find ones that matched.

The CMC clubhouse’s floor was littered with the slate-grey pieces, all retrieved by diligent scavenger hunters hoping to win the grand prize: The Dink’s precious comic book collection.

Piece by piece, part by part, they put the coiled, snaking statue together. Piles shrank and vanished, and single pieces were scooped up for use. 

There was a knock at the door; Peachy spoke up. “C’mon in! Leave your pieces in a pile, and tell me your name, please!”

Bloom, The Dink, Pinch, Pip, Scootaloo, Sweetie and Spike all filed in. “No need,” The Dink said. “How’s it going?”

All at once, the whole mass of pieces gave a slight wriggle between the fillies’ hooves. It twisted and rolled, turning over, and then one baleful yellow eye with a blood-red iris opened on its seamed surface. Stony pieces parted like a mouth, revealing mismatched snaggle teeth.

“Shoot,” Scootaloo said under her breath. “Thought we’d get a chance to warn those two …”

“Well, well, well …!” the stone face rasped. “What have we here?” The thing cracked the left two-thirds of a wicked grin. “Boo!”

The new arrivals all braced for another trademark panic fit from Peachy and Sunny.

Right on cue, the two timid fillies froze, wide-eyed, as they stared at the impossible life in the lifeless stone puzzle.

And then they both cheered.

The stone thing frowned as best it could. The other foals gasped. All of them, in unison, said: “Wait, what?”

“You did it again!” Sunny cried with glee. “Just like the drawing!”

“You helped this time,” Peachy said with a bashful wave of a forehoof. “We BOTH did it!”

“I know I’ve been improving my reputation in town lately, but this is hardly the reception I was expecting,” the puzzle said. “Do you two even know who I AM?”

“Nope!” Sunny said brightly. 

“We won’t know until you’re all back together, silly!” added Peachy. She leaned forward. “It’s a surprise.”

“They don’t, but WE do,” Sweetie said as she stepped forward. “And we need your help with Majesty.”

The seams between the pieces squirmed. The whole heap rattled like spilling gravel. “I’d love to get back at that vicious jar of poisoned candies, but I’m simply not at my best at the moment.” The thing waved at the patchy mess that served as a body. “Orderly, methodical things really don’t agree with me. I can’t solve this puzzle. I’m more of a knocking-puzzles-apart type.” A nail-buffing gesture to the chest knocked a key piece loose. The buffing arm fell off. “...See?”

“Fine,” Bloom replied. “Then we’ll all chip in and get this done!” She started prodding at the heaped pieces.

“Look out!” Sunny chided. “Those are wigglies! Don’t get ‘em in the hoopers heap!”

Spike blinked. “Wat.”

Peachy pointed at the various types of pieces they’d piled for imminent assemblage. “See? Wigglies, hoopers, blobs, and klacks!”

“Be that as it may,” Pip noted, “we’re awfully pressed for time. Could you direct us?”

With Sunny and Peachy’s eager yet baffling advice, the group rapidly reassembled the serpentine statue. As more and more pieces fell into place, more and more life flowed into the puzzle. It moved more smoothly, its seams grew thinner, and subtle traces of warmer colour dusted the sterile grey.

Things proceeded well for twenty minutes or so, but then Peachy frowned. “Uh-oh.”

The near-finished puzzle raised an eyebrow. “What? What is it? Did you put something in crooked? I’ll just DIE of embarrassment if you make me look STRANGE!” He raised a mostly complete paw to his brow, just below his one spiraled horn and one jutting antler.

“Looks like we’re still missing a piece,” Peachy continued. “Right there.” She pointed to the puzzle’s chest, where an irregular hole still lingered. “We don’t have any klacks left to fit.”

“What?” Scootaloo said. “It’s gotta be here! There’s nopony lined up anymore, and we didn’t pass anypony still looking. Town’s been searched top to bottom. They’ve GOTTA have ‘em all!” She raced around the clubhouse and shuffled through papers, all marked with names and number of pieces found. The other joined in, hoping to find a piece hidden under the dozens of notes.

“Aww, crud,” Pinch chimed. “We’ve got a situation.” She slid a paper forward. The large, friendly lettering read:

SILVER SPOON: one zero!

“Sunny!” The Dink barked. “What’s with this paper?”

“Oooooh, right!” Sunny replied. “Silver Spoon was here before, ‘cause she was curious about all the, the um …”

“Civil unrest!” Peachy said brightly. “She said the lineup and everypony running around was dis… ah…”

Sunny stepped in, again. “Disrupting the educational process!”

Both fillies smiled proudly over their teamwork.

The Dink frowned. “No, girls. I mean, why’s it crossed out?”

“Oooooh,” Peachy said, this time. “Well, I thought she had a piece with her when she came in, so I wrote it down, but after she took a look around the clubhouse and we showed her our super-fun puzzle …”

“ … We couldn’t find her piece!” Sunny finished. “She must have took it with her, until she could find more pieces. Just one piece would be all alone. That would be sad!”

“So sad,” Peachy agreed. “I don’t know what I’d do if it was just me, and not me and you, Sunny …” She sniffled, her eyes already getting huge and glassy.

“Awww, nooo,” Sunny pleaded. “Don’t even …! I can’t imagine!” She started choking up, too.

“Are they ALWAYS like this?” the puzzle asked with a swinging roll of its eyes.

“Pretty much,” Sweetie said. “Spike, can you keep an eye on those three while the rest of us head out?” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re late for school.”

Pip sighed. “Now you’ve got HER doing it!”

Diamond Tiara lounged on the forecastle of her wheeled pirate ship, idly nibbling on a bunch of grapes freshly liberated from the vineyard of Miss Cheerilee’s cousin.

“Captain Diamond, Ma’am!” A pale yellow colt in a striped shirt and spotted bandana trotted up and gave a salute.

“Hmm?” She swallowed a mouthful of grapes. “What is it?”

The colt pointed over his shoulder. “Cutie Mark Crusaders off the cardboard bow!”

“Starboard!” piped up a voice from down on the deck.

“Right, starboard!” the colt corrected himself.

The Captain got to her hooves and peered off the right side of her ship. There, cantering along at a fair clip out of the mouth of an alley, were the town’s top problem-solvers slash troublemakers. She frowned.

“I’ve come to a truce with those three,” she said with a slow nod. “As long as they don’t get in our way, just let them-” She froze. The same alley disgorged class weirdo Dinky, Dinky’s right-hoof filly Pinch, and their little exchange student friend. Her casual glance crumbled into a stormy scowl as she reached up to gingerly touch the tiny dent in the tiara perched on top of her deluxe captain’s hat. “Mister Creampuff!”

The colt snapped back to attention. “Yes, Captain!”

Diamond’s eyes shone with vengeance. “Load the cannons.”

“Silver Spoon’s not thinking super clearly right now,” Sweetie said as the group galloped for the school. “We gotta handle her right if we want to get that piece!”

“That’s an understatement!” said Pip. “She’s gone positively barmy! We-”

A low thrum cut the air, and then an impact smashed Pip off his hooves in a burst of chunky crimson.

“PIP!” The Dink cried. She ducked as another thrum sent a projectile whooshing over her head. “Everypony, take cover!” She ducked low and dragged her fallen comrade behind a pile of heavy crates outside of a furniture shop. The others soon joined them.

“Omigosh! Is it bad?” Scootaloo asked, wide-eyed. “It looks bad!”

Pinch touched a hoof to the red mess on Pip’s side, and then cautiously tasted it. “Ugh. It IS bad. I HATE raspberry.”

“Uhhnn …” Pip’s eyelids fluttered. He raised his head. “What happened?” He rolled to one side and then shakily stood. Clods of jam plopped off his side.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” The Dink said with a scowl. “We’re in a jam.”

More of the bulging balloons rained down around them, bursting in splashes of sticky fruit preserves. In the distance, calls of yo-ho-ho and yah-hah-harr carried on the breeze. A few blocks away, the rolling silhouette of a wheeled galleon loomed.

Pinch sighed. “Shoot. It’s the pirates. Diamond must still be mad.”

“She ain’t the type to drop a grudge nice and easy,” Bloom said ruefully. “Believe me.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” The Dink rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. “They’re faster than us in that ship, and they could have DOZENS of jam-bombs if they raided somewhere like Clover Café or Sugarcube Corner. We’re gonna hafta split up. I’ll take one group. Pinch, you take the other. They can’t chase us both. The lucky ones go to the school to get the last piece. The others keep Diamond busy and try not to get Majesty involved before we’re ready.”

The group shared a resolute nod, and then split into two teams. The Dink, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom took off eastwards, while Pinch, Scootaloo and Pip went west. 

After a short pause, the cannon-fire tracked The Dink’s group. The ship shifted its sails to pursue them.

“Don’t stop!” Pinch shouted. “Looks like we’re up!”

The three of them took a wide, arcing route back toward the schoolyard, and they found the place bustling with well-managed activity. Recess was in full swing, with foals playing hopscotch, rolling balls to and fro in methodical, multi-player games of catch, and performing timed mock sprints in preparation for track and field trials that for now would never come.

Scootaloo pointed at a spot near the main doors. “There.” 

Silver Spoon stood stiff-backed and firm, overseeing the orderly recreational period with a sash that read PLAYGROUND MONITOR draped across her chest.

“I didn’t know this school even had playground monitors,” Pip whispered as they approached.

“Before your time,” Pinch replied. “There was a cribbing problem a while back, and Miss Cheerilee had the schoolyard on lockdown for a couple months.”

The trio came up to Silver Spoon and sat facing her. Scootaloo took the lead.

“We’re here for the puzzle piece, Silver.”

Silver Spoon straightened her perfectly straight glasses with a touch of one hoof. “The lost-and-found box is accessible after school hours only.”

“But it isn’t lost,” Pip spoke up. “You have it — you had it when you visited the clubhouse!”

The playground monitor narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “And besides, it’s quite clear that those two truants are engaged in … unsavoury activities unbecoming of proper young fillies.” She sniffed primly.

Pinch frowned. “Hay, everypony’s different. Don’t hate on Sunny and Peachy just because they’re a little-”

Scootaloo leaned in toward her. “I think she means the you-know-who thing.”

“Oh.” Pinch sighed. “Look, we REALLY don’t have time for this, Sil. We NEED that piece. Do you really want to end up locked up in Majesty’s freaky estate? Think! If she was ever gonna let the grown-ups out, why would she do that?”

Hairline cracks spread across Silver’s decorum like seams in an antique teacup. She inhaled sharply. “Miss Majesty said — in SONG, I might add — that the adults are away to learn to behave better. We just have to maintain good order until they return.”

“Aren’t you listening?” Scootaloo shot back. “They aren’t GONNA come back! Majesty wants to keep up all locked up, and we’ll never see our families again!”

Silver huffed, and adjusted her glasses again. “I’d have thought SOME of you would consider that a GOOD thing.” She gave Pinch a knowing, haughty glance.

Pinch’s swing bashed Silver right off her hooves, and smacked her cheek against the schoolhouse door as she fell. “Don’t … you … EVER!” Pinch snarled. Her blazing eyes were tight with held-back tears.

“Y-You HIT me …!” Silver whimpered, looking up from her ungainly sprawl on the ground. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders never hit me!” She touched the hoof-mark on her cheek and winced. “This is assault! Battery! ROUGHHOUSING!”

Pinch stomped up and stared down at her. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it? TELL on me? To who?”

“To whom,” Silver corrected.

Pinch raised a hoof again. Silver cringed.

“Just give us the piece!” Pip pleaded. “Please! We can fix all of this! Everything can go back to normal!”

Silver’s eyes widened. She frowned as much as her darkening bruise would allow. “Normal? Ridiculous. Don’t you think I know what you’re planning? I was there, in the garden in Canterlot. I’d know that statue anywhere! You’re going to bring HIM back! After Majesty finally got rid of him!”

“He’s changed, Silver!” Scootaloo objected. “He’s …” She struggled to form the word better. “ … Not as bad!”

Finally, Silver’s glasses actually were in need of straightening. She set them right, and looked aside for a moment. “You … you really will get the town back to normal? Miss Cheerilee will come back?”

Pip nodded. “This can’t go on, Silver Spoon. You know it can’t. Majesty has done UNSPEAKABLE things.”

“All right. Fine,” Silver said with a sigh. “Wait here, please.” She got to her hooves, dusted off her sash, straightened her disheveled mane, and then called over another foal to take over monitoring duties while she went inside for a moment.

“I can’t believe you smacked her,” Scootaloo commented while they waited.

Pinch smirked. “I can’t believe none of you did.”

Silver soon emerged, silent and sullen, gripping the missing klack with her teeth as though it was a live insect. She let it drop and took a step back. “There. You’ve got what you wanted, you ruffians. Now get out of here.” She looked down and sniffled. “Recess is almost over.”

Pip offered a small smile of thanks and picked up the piece. He and the others turned and headed back toward the clubhouse.

Balloons rained down on all sides and burst in explosions of preserved fruit spread. The Dink, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle dodged strawberry shrapnel and gouts of marmalade as they galloped in serpentine sweeps across the wide, empty streets.

“C’mon!” Bloom urged. “They still ain’t outta bombs! RUN!”

The Dink panted raggedly. “I AM r-running!” Sweat shone on her purple-grey flanks. She saw a fresh salvo of balloons heading her way — round shadows grew from the size of coins to the size of saucers. She lit up her horn and focused on reaching up and back with nothing but those shadows to judge her aim, all while at full gallop.

Jackpot.

She staggered from the added exertion of safely catching three heavy jam-bombs with magic, but she more or less maintained her pace — with the addition of some bulging, rubbery cargo looming over her head.

“My legs are burning!” Sweetie said. “F-Feels like we’ve been running FOREVER!”

“Can’t be much longer!” Bloom said over her shoulder without slowing down. “Once they run out, we can-” A loose stone on the unswept street tripped Bloom up, and she tumbled to the ground. She barely gotten her bearings when the shadow of a bulging jam-bomb fell over her. 

The Dink cried out and tried to reach with magic, but the load of the other balloons was already all she could handle.

The balloon glowed with lilac light and halted a few inches away from Bloom’s red-delicious coloured mane.

“Oh, no …” The Dink skidded to a halt. Her eyes widened. 

From a nearby side-street, Majesty trotted over to the group with a worried cluck of her tongue. She magicked a half-dozen seized balloons into a neat pile, and approached the trio and their rolling pursuer.

“What’s all this?” she asked. Her eyes flicked to Bloom, and a wave of magic hoisted the dusty filly back up onto her hooves. “You’ve made quite a mess, here, my little Ponies. You haven’t been fighting, have you?” She eyed The Dink’s apparent arsenal of magicked balloons.

The casually concerned question made Sweetie Belle shiver. Her eyes narrowed. “What if we have? What’ll you do? KILL us?” She took a step toward the cheery, motherly, awful mare.

“Sweetie!” The Dink hissed. She tossed the floating balloons into a nearby water trough. “Not yet! What’re you doing?”

Majesty frowned. “What? Why, of course not!” she said. “What an ugly word! I would never hurt a Pony!”

“Uh-huh.” Sweetie grimaced to force herself not to cry again until the heat of her anger could cook off the tears. “Just everything else.” She took another step closer. “You won’t stop until we’re the only things left in the world.”

Two dozen feet up, the endless flow of building materials faltered slightly. “I don’t know where you learned such a troubling attitude, young filly,” Majesty replied, “but once Paradise Estate is finished I’m sure you’ll feel right as rain in no time. It’s not safe for a foal to be around monsters so often. I’m not surprised they’ve got you confused.”

“CONFUSED?” Sweetie let out a sharp, half-choked laugh. “When I’m confused, I go to my Mom and Dad for help. I go to my sister. I go to my teacher. I don’t go to some stranger. I go to them.” She trembled a little, and took a steadying breath. “So where are they, Majesty?” She moved closer again, now only a half-dozen steps away. “Where are they?”

Diamond Tiara and her pirates were up on the deck, staring down at the encounter. Other foals watched from windows and doorways all around.

Majesty’s eyes bounced from gaze to gaze. Her ears pinned back. “I … I already explained, all of the grown-ups are away, learning to treat you all better. It may take quite some time, that’s all.” Her back twitched. “You don’t want to be misbehaving when they come back ready to be nicer and happier Ponies, do you? They will be so disappointed …”

“Dang, this is bad,” Bloom whispered to The Dink. “We’re not ready for this. We gotta do somethin’ ...”

“I know, I’m thinking,” The Dink whispered back. 

The firm warning from Majesty seemed to cow the crowd’s worrying for a moment, but then Diamond Tiara stepped up to the tip of the prow, right above the figurehead carved in her own likeness. “They will not,” she said sternly. 

Majesty glanced up at the little pirate captain. “Excuse me?”

“When MY parents are actually happy, they let me do whatever I want!” Diamond stood stiffly, hooves planted on the deck. Set against all comers, with the legendary stubbornness of an only child. “If they saw me like this when they were in a good mood, they’d be bringing me fresh jam by the crate! So either you’re wrong … or you’re FIBBING.”

Scandalized murmurs swept through the onlooking foals.

“I’m not-” 

“You ARE!” Sweetie pressed forward, now maybe three paces from the mare. “You’ve been lying about EVERYTHING! Acting like everything’s happy and nice, when you’re doing AWFUL things!” Sweetie couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. “You’re not Miss Majesty. You’re Pale Death.”

“That is ENOUGH, little one!” Majesty stomped the dusty ground. The planks and stones above halted their flight and gently came to rest, but her horn glowed brighter. “I knew the Ancients ruled once more, but I never thought they’d stoop to corrupting foals to spread their poisonous notions.You all need to understand that even if it may seem scary sometimes, I only do what I must.” Her horn blazed. All around, colours brightened. Some foals started tapping out a tempo with their hooves. “I know what’s best for you, my little Ponies.” She hummed to set a key, and the note resonated through reality.

Sweetie’s little horn glowed brightly. She dug in her hooves and clenched her teeth. “This is not .. what songs .. are for!” she snarled. “I won’t let you do this!” Magic shimmered across her musical-note Cutie Mark.

The crowd stumbled and cried out in alarm as the orderly rhythm soaking through the street and the surrounding houses rippled and flickered with dissonant sour-notes and off-tempo hitches. Flickers of Sweetie’s pale-green magic sparked through Majesty’s lilac glow like lightning in a storm cloud.

“Okay, this is REALLY bad!” The Dink said. She wobbled as the ground seemed to heave in two directions at once. “It’s goin’ off, and the plan's barely started! The big guy’s not even up yet!”

Majesty fixed Sweetie with the same cold, calculated confident gaze she’d focused on Gabby, Zecora and Twilight. “Song-magic is not a toy, little one,” she warned. “It is not invoked LIGHTLY.” She reared and came down in a double stomp, threw her head back, and then whipped it forward with a deafeningly loud hum. 

The note poured down the street like a tidal wave, and smoothed the dissonance like boiling water spilled over ice.

Sweetie skidded backward from the push of Majesty’s power. She tensed from head to tail, horn glowing hot enough to threaten to singe her mane. Her defiant flickers were barely embers now. “S-Stop …”

“Think!” The Dink said as she pounded her temples with her hooves. “C’mon, think! New plan … new plan …”

“She doesn’t need a plan,” Bloom cried over the rising base-note. “She needs HELP!” She stomped forward, against the flow, and started forcing her way toward her trembling friend.

The Dink followed in her wake. “Or that, sure.”

Sweetie’s front hooves lifted off the ground, but before she could tumble backward, Apple Bloom pressed against her side and pushed her back down again. The Dink soon appeared on her other side. Both fillies offered supportive nods, and then hummed a higher, lighter note to counterpoint Majesty’s crushing force.

With backup singers, Sweetie did more with less. Her horn’s glow calmed, yet the dissonance, the resistance rose up with renewed vigour. She joined her friends with notes of her own. Magic rippled across their hides and The Dink’s horn.

“I won’t let you ruin the others!” Majesty shouted over the din. “I stand against the darkness!” In the songless moments it took to speak, the three fillies pushed their side of the music to a midway point and more. Their clear, crisp harmony spread, and the watching foals changed their hoof-tapping to match. Majesty scowled. Her horn glowed blindingly bright. She hummed with redoubled force, setting down a baseline melody in a crescendo building to come forth with crushing, unstoppable might.

And then, a light rain of small, brightly coloured marbles fell from the clear sky.

Majesty grimaced in confusion. “Wh-What … ?”

With a white flash above, Discord appeared in all his mismatched, serpentine glory. With a few more, Ruby Pinch, Pipsqueak, Scootaloo, Peachy Pie, Sunny Daze and Spike appeared flanking the trio below on either side. 

“What’s happening?” Pinch asked.

“Song battle’s on!” The Dink shouted back. “Hop to!”

The group obliged, and the harmony grew denser.

Discord let out a playful chuckle as he donned a pair of shades against the glow of the musical clash below. “Sorry I’m late, I’m a sensitive soul, and it took me longer than expected to pull myself together.”

“DEMON! You return?” Majesty snarled up at him. “Your ilk never learn! I’ll scatter you so far you’ll-” The clash began to waver again, and the Unicorn staggered for a moment, nearly stumbling on the scattered marbles, before resuming her resonant humming.

Discord gave a playful chuckle, steepling his claws and talons. “When your song-magic is all tied up fighting these adorable little foals? I don’t think so. But me? Well, I’m not involved in the trouble at all, for once. I’m free to lend a hand.”

Majesty threw her will and her voice into her magic, and the row opposing her faltered back a pace. “Spare me your lies! I may not know you, but I know your kind! Chaos spirits NEVER serve order!”

A snaggle-toothed smile overflowing with mischief cracked Discord’s long, long face. “Of course. But what could be more CHAOTIC than toppling the only authority figure in an entire town?” He raised his eagle-talon hand, and gave an echoing finger-snap.

Blazing, seething magic struck Sweetie Belle’s horn like a lightning bolt, and the power coursed outward to join every foal in town in a crackling web of energy. Their eyes lit up like lanterns, and as dozens of voices joined the chorus, it was Majesty’s turn to falter.

“No!” she screamed over the echoing harmony. “You mustn’t! Don’t give in! Don’t-”

Swaths of deep blue and grey and purple cast the town in evening shades. The sky turned starry, and a phantom image of a towering alabaster palace covered the town hall.

The foals slowly gathered, forming concentric circles around the central group and their lone adult opponent. They all hummed, eyes glowing, sharing the power and burden of the song between them.

Majesty shrank back, her bottom lip quivering, and turned away as Sweetie stepped forward to solemnly begin a hymn-like melody:

Majesty shot upright again when she realized where the song was headed. “No! I won’t allow this!” Her horn reignited, and she fixed her stance. But her eyes only lit up in fitful flickers before her efforts crumbled.

“Looks like you can’t steal THIS song, Majesty” Sweetie said before the next verse. Her glowing eyes narrowed to a bitter glare. “It’s already yours.”

Majesty pressed her back to a home’s front wall as the clawing, grasping shadows of the statues seemed to reach out to her. Her chest heaved with panicked breaths, and her pupils were pinpricks. “We were so few!” she pleaded. “Ponykind was on the brink of oblivion! I couldn’t risk more losses! Not a single one!”

“Enough!” Majesty scattered the phantom props with a sweep of her hoof and ignited her horn again, but to no avail. The chanting and the tempo remained untouched. She trembled, and met the lead foals’ gleaming gazes in turn. “Please! No more!” Her voice slipped into a choked, ragged whimper. “Blinnaþ! Áre! Ic bidde eow, āriaþāriġaþ …” She raised her head, scattering out sparkling tears, and spread out a massive wave of magic.

All around the chanting, stomping foals, taller shadows formed in the gloom of the songscape. One by one, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, siblings and strangers, the Ponies returned to Ponyville. 

Although they were still caught up in the melody, the foals smiled in relief. Some nuzzled against a parent’s side, or leaned back into an older sibling’s offered hug.

But the song pressed on. A warm, deep richness soaked into the music as adults joined the foal chorus.

“No!” Majesty sobbed. “I gave you what you wanted! Make it stop!”

Up above, silhouetted by the glow of a false moon shading the sun, Discord slowly shook his head. “Now, now, Your Highness. You know better than that. Ponies don’t leave songs half-sung …” His cruel grin split a crescent hole in his shadowy form. Down below, the song resumed.

As the mystical music faded and the spell of the moment broke, the town was once more bathed in blinding sunshine. The newly arrived adults burst into confused, urgent murmuring, talking amongst themselves and with the foals all around them.

Sweetie Belle’s knees wobbled as the electric rush of magic and adrenaline faded. She turned away from the cringing, whimpering Unicorn before her — and came face to face with Mom and Dad.

“Well hay there, punkin,” Dad said with a broad grin. “I don’t wanna getcha worried, ya know, but it seems like somethin’ a little weird has been-”

Sweetie leaped forward and buried her face against his tropical-pattern-shirt-covered chest. Confused or not, Mom and Dad were right on cue with an enveloping, soothing, all-healing hug.

All around, there were tearful reunions and excited explanations and silent, long-delayed embraces.

The Dink let out the breath she’d been holding since her last lyrics and sagged wearily. “Oof. This one’s goin’ in the Secret Files, for sure.” Just then, a high, wavering voice behind her made her stiffen:

“Gee, looks like I missed out on the fun this time, lil’ Muffin …”

For a moment The Dink stayed where she was, taking in every detail of the winged, mussy-maned shadow cast over her. She slowly turned, calm and cool and dignified, and finally met the skewed golden gaze she’d missed more than she’d ever be gooey enough to confess.

Well, maybe just this once.

“MOM!” She dangled from Derpy’s neck like a pendant, scrambling for purchase until the mare sat and held and snuggled and nuzzled her precious foal.

Meanwhile, Majesty huddled against the wall she’d backed into, softly sobbing. Moments later, though, her horn shimmered and her ears twitched as she heard and felt nearby bursts of potent magic. She sniffled back her tears and looked up in time to see the Ancient ruler approaching, flanked by the Griffon and Zebra she’d imprisoned earlier, now restored to life.

“Queen Majesty,” Twilight Sparkle said sternly. “We need to talk.”

The Queen took a slow, steadying breath and then dried her eyes with a foreleg. She stood, straight and proud, and faced judgment with grace. “Quite so. No more cause for secrecy. My shame is laid bare for all to see.” She looked aside. 

A few yards away, Scootaloo waved and hopped and gestured as she told her aunts about what they’d missed. Just past them, Ruby Pinch hugged her mother Berry Punch so tightly that the mare’s eyes bulged.

Majesty hung her head. “When the ultimate danger arose, I lost my nerve, and fled into a mystic void rather than see my people’s doom.” She sighed. “And now here I am, released by meddling relic thieves, and finding myself in a darkling future. It seems Ponykind survived only by submitting once more to the rule of tyrant horrors. My failure is absolute. I deserve whatever cruel torments you’ve devised for me.” A tear tracked down her pale cheek.

Gabby the Griffon frowned. “Huh. In the legends, she’s not so … sad?”

Twilight took a step closer to Majesty. “Alicorns didn’t save Pony civilization, Majesty. Ponies did. The Windigos drove us out of Old Ponyland, but then a brave group of Ponies from every tribe came together and drove them off with the power of friendship. The Alicorns who rule in Canterlot came much later, and you don’t need to fear them. They’re kind and good. They raise and lower the sun and moon for us!”

“Ponies … saved themselves ...” Majesty glanced up into the golden sunlight. She blinked. “Wait. Canterlot? Is that what you call your crystal palace?”

Twilight shook her head. “Canterlot is the capital of Equestria, the new Pony homeland. It’s a few days’ trot from here, up on a mountaintop.”

“But …” Majesty looked left and right. Her brows furrowed. “I … is this not all? This city-state is so vast. How can there be more? I thought I’d surely sent away every Pony who might know of my shame …”

“Vast?” Gabby tilted her head. “Ponyville’s just a cozy little farm-town!”

Zecora chuckled under her breath. “While for ages you were gone, the Ponies grew to MILLIONS strong.”

Majesty sat down heavily. “M-Millions?”

With a flash of reddish-purple magic, Twilight called up a floating image of the map of Equestria. “Like I said, Your Highness — we need to talk. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes.” Majesty took in the sight of dozens of families, great multitudes, in cheery reunion. She looked at the map, dotted with Pony cities like stars in the night sky. “Yes … it seems that I do.”

THREE DAYS LATER

Ruby Pinch took a moment to lean out the schoolhouse window with her front hooves up on the sill. A white stick jutted from her lips, and a dry cloud puffed out when she gave a coughing exhale.

“Careful, that stuff’s bad for your lungs.”

Dinky “The Dink” Hooves popped up into view outside, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Heh. Tell me about it.” Pinch set down the chalk and sighed. “All I taste is dust! Wish she’d just let me magic the thing, sheesh.”

Behind her, the blackboard was covered in five dozen copies of the words I WILL NOT HIT OTHER PONIES in shaky, clumsy mouth-writing.

“Wouldn’t be fair to Pegasi and Earth Ponies in detention, I guess,” The Dink said with a shrug. “It’s total hooey you’re in there, by the way. I know I said it before, but still! I can’t believe that little jerk ratted you out after we saved the whole town!”

Pinch rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Rules are rules, though, I guess. No fighting on school grounds, no exceptions. Silver got me on a technicality. But hay, if they let up every time THIS town was in danger, might as well not have rules at all, amirite?” She gave a wry smile and held out a hoof.

“True that.” Pinch bumped the offered hoof with hers.

The imprisoned filly rolled her neck to let out a few cracks and pops, and then coughed out one more puff of chalk-dust. “Hay, that reminds me — I’ve been out of the loop with detention and bein’ grounded and all. Who ended up getting your comics?”

“Uh …” The Dink fidgeted a little. Her voice dropped in volume. “ … Rumble.”

“Oh-hoh!” Pinch replied with a sly grin. “Maybe if you play your cards right, he’ll invite you over to read them together? Eh? Eh?”

The Dink gave a mock scowl. “Shut up.”

“I’ll be your best mare, woooo ...” Pinch crooned, cradling her chin on her hooves and fluttering her eyelashes. She kissed the air with little smacking sounds.

“So help me, I will brick you up in that schoolhouse, Pinch.”

Pinch giggled, and feigned terror. “Noooo! For the love of Celestia, Monterufolino!” She laughed harder, and The Dink soon joined her in spite of herself.

“So, any other news?” Pinch asked once they’d both calmed down. “Miss Cheerilee’s gonna be back from getting her tea any second.”

The Dink shook her head. “Nothing much. Majesty’s still way off in Somnambula studying history — out of our jurisdiction. That fire toad turned out to be just a red frog, but it was still pretty big, so that was kinda cool. I hear Princess Twilight’s figuring out what to do with that nearly-finished building Majesty left in her backyard, guess we’ll see about that soon. Once you’re out next week, though, it’s only a couple more weeks until Nightmare Night. Prime spook season. We could totally do a seance.”

“Awesome.” Pinch smiled and gave a resolute nod. “Count me in.” The two shared one last hoof-bump, and then Pinch picked up her chalk and turned back as Miss Cheerilee’s approaching hoofsteps sounded outside. “Gotta go! See ya!”

Super-cool mystery hunter The Dink pressed against the schoolhouse wall to stay out of sight, and then crept away in search of her next adventure. 

Or, failing that, some new comic books.