//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Ingredients // Story: Fourth Harmony: Induction // by CTVulpin //------------------------------// Breakfast was typically a casual affair in Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle. Despite her privileged upbringing and the multiple decades that she’d been officially counted among Equestria’s royalty, Twilight had never grown accustomed to having a large, full-time staff of servants. In fact, if it weren’t for Celestia pulling rank to reassign three shifts of Royal Guard and a weekly rotation of chefs from Canterlot Castle to Ponyville, the only creatures that did more than visit the castle proper would be Twilight, Bella, and Citrine. Asserting her own authority, Twilight had pushed back a little by insisting the chefs refrain from planning anything elaborate unless the Princess was hosting and to permit the Princess and her students to each take care of breakfast on their own. For the morning of the day after the big revelation in the Haven of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle decided things were not going to be typical. The evening before, while Bella and Citrine had been busy with their spell projects, Twilight had gone out to Sugar Cube Corner to arrange for a little breakfast catering with fresh-baked pastries, waffles made-to-order, and drinks. When the food arrived in the morning, Twilight had been surprised to see it was being delivered not by mere catering employees, but by Sugar Cube Corner’s own head baker, Pumpkin Cake, and her daughter, Strawberry Lemonade. There had been some friendly chit-chat and reminiscing as Twilight helped the two unicorns move the food into the dining room, and then the bakers politely shooed Twilight back as they got to work setting everything up. The sight of Pumpkin Cake puttering about with trays in her magic, her mane still held tight in a hair net, and a smile on her lips as she directed Strawberry brought a smile to Twilight’s face as well. Aside from the clearly different appearances of the actors, the scene was almost like watching old Mrs. Cake and Pinkie Pie working together to set up yet another party. Twilight’s thoughts shifted when Pinkie crossed her mind, going back to the previous morning when Twilight had felt so disconnected from everything. Twilight frowned briefly, but only for a second as she realized the melancholy from the previous morning wasn’t coming. Faced with a pleasant, positively domestic scene, Twilight found she could confront her darker thoughts more objectively. Yes, the Element Bearers were all dead, save for Twilight obviously, as were many other ponies and creatures Twilight had known. However, not every creature from the “good old days” was gone, and those who had passed on had left behind family and new friends. For goodness sake, Sparkle, Twilight thought, rolling her eyes wistfully, one of your personal students, who you live and work with every day, is Rarity’s daughter! It is hard to remember that when she takes so much more after Ash, but- “Princess Twilight!” a loud, tinny voice cried out, disturbing Twilight’s thoughts. With a slight groan, Twilight started to turn her head to the door Pesci was flying through, only to snap her gaze back to the table as Strawberry Lemonade dropped a pitcher of juice with a startled gasp, staring at the floating metal, pony-head-shaped computer. “Oh no,” Pesci said, coming to a sudden stop. “My apologies. I did not intend to startle anypony.” “It’s fine,” Twilight said, trying to reassure Pesci and the Cakes all at the same time. “Pesci, unless this an emergency, wait for me in the hall.” “As you will, Princess Twilight,” Pesci said, bobbing up and down slightly as it backed out of the room. “What… was that thing?” Strawberry said. “That was Pesci,” Twilight explained gently. “Just think of it as… something enchanted to be a personal assistant.” She looked at the spreading juice spill and asked, “Do you need any towels to clean that up, or…?” “Oh no, don’t trouble yourself, Princess” Pumpkin Cake said, waving a hoof as she levitated a large stack of paper napkins out of the catering cart. “We’ll make do.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “I’ll get you some towels,” she declared, and stepped out into the hallway. Pesci was floating by the wall just outside the door, its LEDs imitating a set of downcast eyes. “Ok, Pesci,” Twilight said, “what’s up?” “Apologies, Princess Twilight,” the computer said. “You apparently just forgot to wake me up this morning, and I… I believe ‘panicked’ is the emotion, not knowing your status when my rest cycle ended on its own.” “Oh,” Twilight said, sheepish. “I should be the one apologizing then.” “No need,” Pesci said, its eyes returning to their neutral state. “You obviously did not need reminding of the special breakfast you planned.” “No,” Twilight admitted, “but I do need you to do two things. First, find someone to bring some towels to clean up the mess in there, and then go fetch the girls before they run off after their own breakfasts.” Pesci bobbed a nod. “As you will, Princess Twilight!” it said, and then shot off down the hall. “Two waffles,” Citrine said, “butter and maple syrup on both, please.” “Coming right up,” Pumpkin Cake said, already pouring batter on the waffle irons. “Thank you,” Citrine said before turning away and walking to the table, a plate of mixed fruit tarts floating in her magic. As Citrine sat down, she caught Bella’s eye, and the other unicorn quirked an eyebrow over her own fruit- and cream-laden waffles. “Just syrup?” Bella asked. “How boring.” “I like maple,” Citrine replied with faint disdain, “and I don’t like mixing it with fruity flavors.” “Girls,” Twilight said firmly, “please.” “Not fighting,” Citrine grumbled before stuffing a tart in her mouth. Twilight chose to take that as an apology and not a claim of innocence. “Ok,” she said, “I’ve arranged this breakfast because we need to talk about how we’re going forward from yesterday.” She paused as Pumpkin brought Citrine’s waffles over, then continued once the baker had gone back to her station. “First of all, I’m suspending our magic lessons for the next week.” Bella nearly choked on a bite of waffle, as Citrine exclaimed, “What? Why?!” “Two reasons,” Twilight said. “First, there’s that spell-crafting contest you two set up for yourselves. If you’d rather pursue your studies in magic independently, then I shouldn’t get in your way.” Bella and Citrine shared a look, unsure if this was a vote of confidence from the Princess or a veiled rebuke. “Second, and more importantly,” Twilight said, “I need time to reconsider how I’ve been teaching you. I took both of you on as personal students because you each possess a potential for magic ability that is well above the average and beyond what even Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns can properly cultivate. In helping you to hone your potentials as mages, however, it seems I may have neglected to give equal attention to your understanding of Friendship.” “That’s not true,” Bella protested. “I have plenty of friends. I can’t speak for Citrine, though.” Citrine stuck her tongue out at Bella. “That is exactly what I’m talking about,” Twilight said, pointing at Citrine and Bella in turn. “The relationship between you two in particular. I know that real friendships can grow between two ponies who like to compete with each other – Applejack and Rainbow Dash proved that all the time – but it’s a very precarious path. You can’t let beating the other pony be the only reason you spend time around them. Especially not if you’re going to be Element Bearers.” This time, it was Citrine who nearly choked on a mouthful of milk. By sheer force of will, she resisted the urge to spit it out and instead forcibly swallowed. “Y-you mean,” she gasped, “we are going to-” “Maybe,” Twilight said. “I think you both have a strong chance, but nothing is certain yet. After all, as I understand it, your contest arose out of a disagreement over which of you would make a better Bearer for Magic. Right?” Bella opened her mouth to point out that that had all been Citrine’s thinking, but caught herself before the words came out. She thought she could guess where Twilight was going, and trying to paint Citrine as a villain would not put Bella in a good light. “That was where the idea came from, yes,” she said instead. “All right,” Twilight said, propping her elbows on the table and putting her hooves together. “Honestly, I’ll gladly overlook that so long as you both keep this in mind: it’s not called the Element of Magic because the Bearer is exceptional at using unicorn magic; it’s called that because it represents the Magic of Friendship. The creature that carries that Element has to bring the other five together, to be the initial focal point from which a web of Friendship can grow between the individual Bearers and the group as a whole. So, I’ll say it again: go ahead and see who can create the more impressive spell, but don’t let it overshadow your potential to become better friends. Agreed?” “Yes, Princess Twilight,” Bella and Citrine said in unison. Twilight smiled and relaxed. “Good,” she said, cutting up her waffles. “Then there’s just one more thing I want to ask of you girls. As you go about your day, I’d like you to think of any creatures you know who might make good candidates for the Elements of Harmony.” Citrine sat back and thought, a hoof pressed against her chin. “Well,” she said, “there’s Foxglove, for one...” “There’s no rush, Citrine,” Twilight assured. “And I’m not expecting you to put together a full set of six with reasons why you picked each one. I just want some help figuring out who to take a closer look at. Oh,” she added after a second, casting a glance over at Pumpkin and Strawberry, who were trying to look like they hadn’t been listening in the whole time, “and please try not to tell everyone about the Elements yet.” “Why not?” Strawberry asked without thinking, earning a sharp look from her mother. Twilight gave the young baker a smile with little mirth behind it. “If every pony, griffon, and yak in the city knows I’m looking for new Element Bearers,” she said, “I will never see the end of ‘volunteers’ with far more pride than self-awareness during Court. And if it gets out of Ponyville...” Her eyes grew a little crazed-looking. “It might actually make Princess Celestia upset for the first time in years.” “Ah,” Strawberry said, ducking her head and looking away. “Right then!” Twilight said, suddenly in perfect cheer again, “That’s everything. Enjoy your breakfast, and I’ll see you… at some point.” “Well, that was bit intense,” Citrine muttered as she left the dining room. “We probably deserved all of it,” Bella replied, following. “I mean, she’s the Princess of Friendship, and we have not exactly been sterling examples of that principle lately.” “Fair point,” Citrine said. “Still feeling up to doing the competition, then?” Bella snorted and gave Citrine a sideways look. “If I say no, are you going to stop doing... your thing?” “No,” Citrine said, “there’s more at stake there than my ego, so-” “Then I am not going to stop, either,” Bella cut in. “I’ve hit on an idea, and I’m going to see it through. And on that note,” she set off down the hall, “I need to raid the spell component supplies. Care to join me?” Citrine thought over her mental list of necessary items for the portal. She’d discovered the previous night that the remains of the old mirror were still in storage, and while some things could be salvaged and pieced back together, most of what she’d found was too shattered or burnt up and needed to be replaced. Citrine shook her head. “Thanks,” she said, “but I doubt Twilight just keeps everything I’m going to need. I’ll be heading out.” Bella shrugged. “Suit yourself.” If asked to describe the Diamond Quarter of Ponyville, those with only a passing familiarity with the small city would say the Diamond Quarter is where one goes to purchase the best locally supplied gems and jewelry, and some might even know that it is situated where the old gem fields and mines were before the urban sprawl began. A resident of Ponyville, however, would point out that the shops you can see from the street are only the tip of the Diamond Quarter, that it also includes an underground cavern network almost large enough to qualify as a separate village. The Diamond Quarter is where the Changelings live, and most – but not all – of them work there as well. Those who have jobs elsewhere are spread evenly enough across the city to moonlight as “couriers,” passing messages through the Hive Mind for a reasonable fee. The caverns are also home to a small miner pack of Diamond Dogs, although the average pony will likely never see one. The Diamond Dogs prefer to remain in the deepest parts of the caverns, where they can mine gems and expand the dwelling caves in peace and let the Changelings handle the unpleasant business of talking to and trading with ponies. Typically, the Dogs only show themselves a couple times a year to reassure the City Council that yes, they’re quite happy with their lot in life and no, they aren’t feeling subjugated or underprivileged, thank you very much for your concern but this mine cart isn’t going to push itself so either hitch up or get off the tracks. Beetroot let out an amused buzz at the mental image that had accompanied that fact when Chief Lorekeeper Tea Leaf rattled it off to her as they walked out of the mining area of the caverns. “You can’t fault the ponies for being worried, though,” Beetroot said. “It’s a better response to not understanding another culture than fear or trying to force their own ways onto the Dogs. Has any pony actually taken the ‘hitch up’ option?” “Once, just last year,” Tea Leaf answered. “A larger earth pony, a stone-cutter by trade if not by name. He slipped into the traces and hauled the cart all the way to the sorting station. Got a few Dogs to reconsider avoiding ponies, but nothing’s come of that yet.” Beetroot considered that for a few minutes as she and Tea Leaf continued walking. “I don’t see a reason to try and push them,” she decided. “They seem to have happiness to spare for our needs and there are still plenty of gems for them to dig up, so why rush to change things?” “And with that,” Tea Leaf said, deadpan, “you have succeeded in making no changes whatsoever to any aspect of the Ponyville Hive, Princess.” “Give me a break,” Beetroot said, rolling her eyes. “The arrival of a Royal Changeling is supposed to herald-” I’ve been here for less than a full day, Beetroot snapped over the Hive Mind, where her Royal authority had more force, and I haven’t seen anything that feels wrong. Rest assured, if I do find something, you will all… Her thoughts became muddled as a pony walked out of a side passage ahead of Beetroot and Tea Leaf. It was an orange unicorn mare with a short purple mane styled in randomly sized curly spikes, vivid green eyes, and a cutie mark of a dark purple nine-point starburst underneath a strange burnt-yellow glyph. As she spotted the two Changelings, she gave off a mixture of emotions that Beetroot found strange: relief mixed with discomfort or trepidation. I recognize her, Beetroot thought. She was at Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle yesterday. Her name is Citrine, the Hive Mind supplied, one of Princess Twilight’s personal students. “Uh, pardon me...” Citrine paused awkwardly, as if unsure of her own words. “I thought I remembered how to get around down here, but I… think I took a wrong turn? I’m looking for spell-quality gems.” She finished with a hopeful smile that was just a bit bigger than necessary for the emotion. Beetroot’s eyes widened. “You are lost then, Citrine,” she said. “All the shops are near the main access caves. Come on,” she approached the unicorn and pointed back down the passage, “I’ll show you the way.” “Thank you, uh,” Citrine paused again, and then did a double-take, staring at Beetroot’s eyes. “Wait… you’re Princess Beetroot, right?” Her anxiety faded to barely perceptible levels when Beetroot nodded. “I thought I recognized your eyes,” Citrine said. “All right then, I’ll accept your help, so long as you’re willing to answer a few questions.” Beetroot was about to answer when a wave of suspicion came rolling off of Citrine. Beetroot exchanged a quick glance with Tea Leaf. Is she… a problem? Beetroot asked over the Hive Mind. She seemed a bit guarded yesterday, when we first met. The Hive Mind buzzed for a bit as ‘lings exchanged memories and opinions at lightning speed. Citrine is usually uncomfortable around Changelings, came the consensus, but she does not hate us for what we are. “Ask away,” Beetroot told Citrine, and started walking down the passageway the unicorn had emerged from. Citrine walked beside the Royal Changeling, while Tea Leaf followed a few steps behind. They reached a junction before Citrine asked her first question. “Where did you come from, Beetroot?” “S-sor… what?” Beetroot stammered. “You called yourself the fifth Princess of the Crystal Hive,” Citrine said, “and while the identification token you supplied backed up that claim, I find it a little odd that up until you arrived, I would have sworn there were only four Changeling Princesses – one each for the Hives in Canterlot, Manehatten, and Las Pegasus and the last acting as an ‘ambassador’ in the Courts of the Two Sisters. Where did you come from all of a sudden?” “That’z an impertinent queztion!” Tea Leaf said, his irritated voice thick with buzzing undertones. “What buiznezz iz it of yourz-” “Calm yourself, Lorekeeper,” Beetroot said. She was grateful for his outburst, as it had given her time to process the shock from Citrine’s question, but as Princess she couldn’t let him control the conversation. “I’m sure Citrine is only curious.” Citrine gave Beetroot a measuring look. She knew just how well a Changeling could read the emotions of other creatures. Oftentimes, they’d know a creature’s emotional state better than the one actually experiencing them, and many were just tactless enough to blurt it all out. Beetroot, though, was downplaying what she had to be reading from Citrine right now. “Sure,” Citrine said, “just curious. Are you going to answer, or what?” “Of course,” Beetroot said. “We do have an agreement. Aside from the fact that Ponyville is so far from the Crystal Hive that you’d probably never hear about everything that’s happening there, there’s also the fact that we Changelings don’t make a big deal out of our Royals until they’ve done something noteworthy. Back before the rise of Queen Cabbage Patch and the Schism, a new Royal would only be born when the Hive determined that the current Queen was no longer capable of ensuring our survival. The young Royal would be expected to invent a new strategy for collecting love, or create a new social structure.” “There are five of you Princesses now, though,” Citrine cut in, “and yet, so far as I know, the Changelings are thriving.” She waved a hoof from side to side to emphasize the seeming contradiction. “We are,” Tea Leaf said, “so much so that if we remained grouped together as a single Hive in one place, discounting Chrysalis’ renegades of course, we’d eventually outgrow the Crystal Empire’s ability to sustain our need for emotional sustenance without harming its citizens. We needed to spread out, establish other Hives subordinate to the Queen’s. That is what the twin Princesses Chard and Kale determined would be their profound Change. They left the Crystal Hive and established the Canterhorn Hive, to great success.” Citrine’s eyes widened, and then screwed shut as she shook her head. “I am an idiot,” she hissed. Looking back at Beetroot with contrition in her eyes, she asked, “So then, the rest of you Princesses are just continuing that policy?” “Mostly, yes,” Beetroot said, “but we’re still Royals, so we’re encouraged to… experiment a little in how we run our Hives. And I just arrived, so...” “Haven’t earned your spot in the histories yet,” Citrine said. “Got it.” She glanced ahead and saw the familiar sight of the underground jeweler and gem shops. “Mind if I ask one more thing?” she asked. “Shoot,” Beetroot said with a nod. “Mind telling me why you were a day late in getting here?” Beetroot chuckled. “Oh,” she said, rolling her eyes, “just train problems. The delays added up so much that I decided to stop in Canterlot and visit with Chard and Kale rather than arrive in Ponyville in the dead of the night.” “Sensible,” Citrine said, nodding. She looked around at the various small kiosks that had been carved into the cavern walls, and trotted up to one that had leg bands and horn rings on display. Beetroot watched her go with curiosity, since the unicorn had said she was looking for spell gems, and was surprised when Citrine came trotting back carrying a silver leg band set with a large, pale-green stone in her magic. “Here,” Citrine said, floating the band toward Beetroot, “I’m sorry for being such a suspicious idiot.” “Oh,” Beetroot said, “no, that’s fine. You don’t have to...” Princess, Tea Leaf cut in over the Hive Mind, I strongly suggest you just accept that. If you don’t, Citrine will just grow more insistent and offer more elaborate gifts. No one has yet discovered her upper limit. Beetroot gave both the Lorekeeper and the proffered band dubious looks, but plucked the band out of Citrine’s magic with her mouth and twisted to set it on her back. “Your apology is accepted,” she said magnanimously, “unnecessary though it is.” “Thank you,” Citrine said, relief as clear on her face as in the emotions she exuded. Without another word, she sketched a quick head-bow to Beetroot and turned to trot off toward a gem vendor. Beetroot cocked her head as she watched the unicorn leave. She is a bit strange, isn’t she? she thought. They say that Ponyville attracts the crazy ponies, Tea Leaf noted. Just about every pony in the world is crazy, though, and not all in the same way. It probably comes from always being alone in their own heads. He walked up to Beetroot and nodded at the hoof band on her back. Citrine isn’t known for keeping track of the gifts she gives out as apologies, so if you don’t want to keep that… Beetroot grabbed the band and looked at it closer. While she wasn’t personally knowledgeable about such things, she did pick up from the ‘ling that had sold it to Citrine that it was a high quality piece, and the stone was almost a perfect match for the color of Beetroot’s eyes. “No,” she said, “I think I’ll keep it.” There is some truth to the adage that the more things change, the more they stay the same. While Ponyville was ever growing in size and population, the border it shared with the Everfree Forest remained where it had always been, and few creatures were willing to risk living so close to those eldritch woods. As a result, there still existed a cozy cottage built to resemble a natural hillock at that edge of Ponyville, enjoying a happy medium between pastoral privacy and proximity to public services. This cottage was the home of a kindly, butter-yellow pony who took it upon herself to care for any wild animals that needed healing and shelter from the dangerous Everfree. On this particular day, the cottage also contained a cyan pegasus with a rainbow-striped mane, as well as the one and only Spirit of Chaos. Of course, things do change with time. The animal caretaker who owned the cottage was the granddaughter of the original owner, and an earth pony to boot. Posey wore her pink mane and tail long like Fluttershy had, but the presence of a single strawberry-red stripe in both, the trio of pink blossoms that was her cutie mark, and her lack of wings made cases of mistaken identity rare. In the case of the pegasus, the visual similarity to Rainbow Dash was entirely deliberate; Prism dyed his naturally forest-green mane and tail in imitation of the late Wonderbolt Captain, and he took pride in his cutie mark being a tri-colored lightning bolt. Discord, despite himself, was the same as ever. While Posey was busy assembling a tray for early afternoon tea in the kitchen, Discord and Prism sat on opposite sides of the coffee table in the front room, giving each other silent, icy looks. The stalemate did not break until Posey came in and set the tray on the table, saying, “I thought we’d start with a simple green tea, and maybe try the more adventurous blends once we’re more comfortable.” “Uh huh,” Prism said. “If by ‘adventurous,’ you mean something he’s thought up, I think I’ll stick with the ordinary tea.” “Your loss, Rain-faux,” Discord replied. He waited until Posey took her seat, and then set the teapot into motion with a wave of his lion paw. “I don’t mind starting with something plain,” he continued as the tea poured into three hovering cups at once. “Chaos always has a stronger kick when it comes after an appetizer of normalcy.” He grabbed one of the teacups, summoned a cube of sugar into it, and handed it to Posey. “Thank you,” Posey said. She set the cup down and waited as Discord prepared his own cup… and left the third floating where it was, out of Prism’s reach, while leaning back and preparing to drink. “Discord,” Posey said with sugar-coated firmness, “it’s not just the two of us today, remember?” “Oh, you’re right!” Discord exclaimed theatrically. “Silly me, always forgetting such minor details. You know, I nearly left home without my tail tuft this morning.” He plucked the tuft in question off and shook it like a pom-pom, and made no move toward the still-floating teacup. Prism hopped up and grabbed the teacup, giving Discord a glare as he settled back the ground. “It’s ok,” he said, “I’ll just serve myself.” Posey sighed. “And here I thought we were off to a good start,” she said. “Discord, Prism,” she gave each a chastising look, “you both agreed to come here today to work out your differences and put a stop to-” A knock at the door interrupted her, and she turned her head to look at it with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Now what?” she asked, starting to get up. “I’ll get it!” Prism said, launching out of his seat and flying to the door before Posey got all four hooves on the ground. Prism opened the door to reveal Citrine, and the two stared at each other in mild surprise for a second. “Hey Prism,” Citrine said at last, her eyes drifting up to the pegasus’s mane. “You’re overdue for a touch-up,” Citrine noted. Prism ran a self-conscious hoof through his mane, which was showing a lot of its natural color at the roots. “I’m aware,” he said. “What do you want?” “Sorry to interrupt whatever you’re doing,” Citrine said, trying to look past Prism and into the cottage, “but I need to ask your marefriend a real quick question. Won’t take more than a minute.” She finally got a good look over Prism’s shoulder and spotted Discord staring back at her with a measuring look from his seat. “Oh, he’s here,” Citrine said, shoving Prism aside and walking in. “Perfect. There’s something I need to ask of you, Discord, so if you’d-” She cut off with a surprised squeak as Discord suddenly appeared next to her and picked her up. “You’re always welcome to ask me things,” Discord said, tucking Citrine under one arm and snapping up a door next to the actual front door. “Whether my answers will match your questions though...” “Discord,” Posey said from her seat, “we’ve only just started, here.” “Don’t worry, Posey my dear,” Discord said, “I just happened to think of the perfect tea to ease Prism into the ‘adventurous blends,’ so I’m going to step out and get it while also answering Citrine’s question. Two birds in one bush, as they say.” He opened the new door and carried Citrine through it into his chaotic pocket dimension. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” Posey muttered. “Unbelievable,” Prism said, returning to his chair and sitting down while giving the conjured door a sideways glower. “Honestly Posey, I don’t get why you do it. Just because your grandma tamed Discord doesn’t mean you’re responsible for keeping him in check now.” Posey took a slow sip of her tea before responding. “I’m not Discord’s friend out of obligation,” she said. “All Grandma ‘Shy ever said on the matter was that if I moved in and took over the animal sanctuary, I’d probably have to keep reminding Discord that I’m not her. I’m friends with Discord because I like him. He’s hard to predict and more than a little dense about social graces, but he’s also very witty and entertaining.” “Entertaining,” Prism scoffed. “Sure, maybe when he likes a pony his antics will be ‘all in good fun,’ but he doesn’t like me. First time I tried putting on a little air show in town, he sent a flock of geese after me! At least I think they were geese.” Posey thought back to the event. “As I recall,” she said, “you handled it quite well. You got past the shock quickly enough and completed a full routine without more than a couple bites. That speaks well to your ability to think under pressure, and I’m sure that’s something the Wonderbolts would appreciate.” Prism’s sour expression smoothed out into a smile. “Good point,” he said, but then frowned again. “Still, I doubt Discord had that in mind when he conjured them up.” Posey pursed her lips and set her teacup down. “Well, I’ll admit you might not get an admission one way or the other now,” she said, “but I’ve found the best way to deal with Discord misbehaving is to confront him about it directly and as quickly as possible. Let him know what your boundaries are, and be honest if he does do something that amuses you. He does get discouraged when his audience doesn’t appreciate his hi-jinks, even if he doesn’t show it right away.” She reached out to put her hoof on Prism’s. “Please give him a chance,” she said. “I don’t like to see the two most important fellows in my life not getting along with each other.” Prism grit his teeth, but upon catching the look in Posey’s soft, green eyes, he relented with a sigh. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll try.” Upon passing through the door, Discord carried Citrine into what looked to be a sitting room turned on its side, with a sofa, rug, and coffee table sitting on a wall and an eight-pointed chandelier sticking out the opposite wall at a perfect right angle to the prevailing gravity. Discord set Citrine on the end of the sofa and then flew through a sideways door into an upside-down kitchen. “Make yourself, comfortable,” the draconequus said, “this may take a minute. I never bother to remember where I put anything.” “Please,” Citrine said, rolling her eyes, “as if you can’t just have whatever you want at your claw tips in a snap.” Discord’s head reappeared in the doorway, disapproval clear on his face. “Well, if you want to be sensible about things, yes,” he said. “But,” he slid back out of sight, leaving behind a single eagle talon to waggle at Citrine, “you rather rudely interrupted the tea party Posey went to so much trouble to charm me and that colt with the Rainbow Dash fetish into attending at the same time, so-” “Ah,” Citrine said with a sly smirk, “I get it. You’re just using me to buy more time to figure out how to avoid making nice with Prism without ruining your friendship with Posey.” Discord blinked back into the sitting room, a box of tea bags held in the crook of one arm. “Look at you,” he deadpanned, “assuming the worst of me. If I wanted someone to criticize me in my own home, I’d make a facsimile of your dad, or just do it myself.” A second Discord wearing glasses and a necktie appeared in the kitchen doorway momentarily, giving a thumbs-up before disappearing. “Hey, I was willing to wait until you had a free moment,” Citrine pointed out. “You’re the one who decided we were doing this now. And since you seem to have found your tea, can I ask-” “No need,” Discord said, cutting Citrine off with an upraised paw. “I know exactly what you’re after.” “Wh… How?” Citrine exclaimed. “I have my ways,” Discord said, grimly. “And the answer is no, I am not going to help you.” “Why not?” Citrine asked. “Because,” Discord replied, “if you keep chasing after this obsession you’ll only bring chaos and suffering, and I don’t want to be part of it.” Citrine snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “And even if you did, I thought chaos was your thing.” Discord loomed high over the unicorn, staring down at her without so much as a hint of his usual smug playfulness in his face or posture. “I have put a lot of effort into marketing myself as the insane, powerful, yet harmless trickster,” he said, “but that image hangs by a thread. I am not going to risk it by enabling you to court disaster chasing a pipe dream. Goodbye, Citrine.” He picked her up in one hand and dropped her through a hole that suddenly appeared in the floor. Citrine landed softly by the road to Posey’s house, her head spinning slightly from the quick but disorienting tumble through chaos space. “Ugh,” she moaned, getting to her hooves, “Fine,” she sneered up at the sky, “be that way then. I’m the inheritor of Meis Thamule, master weaver of magic! I can just find a way around the extra-dimensional catalyst.” She turned about sharply in the direction of Ponyville proper and marched off with her head held high.