//------------------------------//
// Chapter 9: Making Do 
// Story: Child of Mine 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

For a moment, Kyle was entirely paralyzed by her sister's presence, as though what had happened in the stables was her fault instead of the baby's. But it only took a few seconds for her to recover enough to respond. She stepped slightly to the side, separating Kara from Fay. Whether she was protecting her sister from the baby's incredible magic, or the alien from her sister's rage, that she couldn't have said. "You think she could just change people?" Kyle asked. "Well... okay, I thought that too. We were both wrong."

She gestured around the room with a wing. She was getting pretty good at controlling it now, or at least pointing it where she wanted it to go. Whether they could somehow fly... that didn't make sense. Eagles were pretty gigantic animals, and they could fly. But seeing a creature like her in the air would be taking that to another level. "I think it's... subconscious? Looks like she's trying to make her world in ours or something."

Kara made her way into the stable, shutting the door quickly behind her. She moved slowly, possibly feeling small compared to all this horse-sized furniture. She circled towards the baby, and without thinking Kyle backed away. "There are diapers here," Kara said. "Why the hell would there be diapers?"

"Because she was wearing one when I found her?" she suggested. "Oh hey, that's a really good idea. Fay, I need you to stay calm for a minute while Kara here puts one of these on for you. I'd do it, but—" I'm still not convinced I can do something that takes so much dexterity with a bone poking out of my head. "She's got hands, and I don't."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "You're making an awful lot of assumptions, Kyle. Like me wanting to be anywhere near her." She looked around the room—then pulled her phone out of her pocket and started snapping pictures. "This is the craziest thing I've seen since I found you. Fucking nuts."

"I know," she said, exasperated. "I'm with you all the way, Kara. But..." She turned towards the baby. Fay was hiding behind one of the little stuffed animals. Well not so little anymore. That's a strange selectivity from your magic, kid. Why did those get to stay when so many things didn’t? “Come on, Fay. Kara is going to get one of these on for you." She reached to the side, levitating over one of the diapers without thinking of it. "See? I bet you'd rather be wearing one, wouldn't you? You wouldn't want to make a mess in this... physics-defying abomination you've just created from whole cloth."

"You’re not even trying to say things she'll understand," Kara muttered, annoyed. At least she wasn't hiding in the corner of the room anymore—she stood beside Kyle, looking down at the diaper. Then her eyes widened. "Wait a minute. Did she do that? Your, uh..." She held a hand up over her head. "Your thing is lighting up."

"Horn," she muttered, glowering down at Kara. "Yeah, it's me. I've been practicing. I can't get it to do anything useful, like change me back, but... I figured I should start with something I could actually figure out."

Kyle watched nervously—for a minute it looked like Fay wouldn't actually put up with Kara's help. But then she started giggling, putting Kara at ease enough to actually try touching her.

When the diaper was finally on, and another disaster was averted before it even began, Kara backed away again, getting out of reach. "Kyle, do you realize what all of this means?" She gestured around the room. "Like... this creature. I guess you knew she wasn't natural, but... this is insane."

"Fay," Kyle corrected. "Her name is Fay. I don't think she likes it when you call her that."

Kara rolled her eyes, reaching out and mussing Kyle's mane. "Yeah yeah, right. Fay is some kind of reality-bending... time and space kinda deal."

"I think she might be like Q," Kyle said. "She didn't like how dark and awful it was in here, so she changed it. When she was hungry, she made me. Like a... baby goddess or something."

Kara did not seem reassured by that hypothesis. If anything, her expression only grew more terrified. "That could be, bro. But if it is... don't you think we should call... somebody? For like... the good of civilization or something?"

Without thinking, Kyle picked Fay up in her non-physical grip, holding her against her chest. "She's just a baby, Kara. I know she's scaring us... but she just wanted someone to help her. She's not causing any harm."

"Except by ruining your whole life, turning you into a freak of nature, and transforming our stable into a crazy..." She looked around. "Nursery. For giant horses."

"Exactly." Kyle crossed the room to the crib, depositing Fay inside before walking back over to Kara. He'd been a little taller for the last few years now, but she was still adjusting to just how small Kara looked. Small enough to ride on her back without much effort, probably. "She didn't make some evil invading army. She didn't hurt me. She made the stuff a baby needs, because that's all she is. And as soon as I figure this out, I'll fix it."

"You were moving things around," Kara muttered. "Maybe you can do something amazing and put everything right. But Mom and Dad aren't going to buy your disappearance forever. I can lie and say you went to school with me, but they'll get a call when you don't show. Sooner or later they'll have to find out about this."

"At least I'll have your help when that happens," Kyle squeaked nervously. "So they'll know who I am, and Dad won't bring out that rusty old shotgun again."

Kara met her eyes in silence. For a moment it seemed like she was going to say something else, but then she turned away. "Just... figure it out quickly, sis. At best, you've got until tomorrow after school. If I don’t tell them the truth then, they're probably going to call you in missing. Then the authorities get involved whether we want them to or not."

Kyle shuddered at the thought of a policeman knocking down the door to the stable. Maybe they'd get jumpy and just shoot. Or maybe Fay would be so afraid that she took matters into her own hooves.

I don't even really know that bullets would work on us. She should check in on her thread on the supernatural board, maybe someone had made a useful suggestion.

"I should probably get going," Kara said, backing up the way she'd come. "Anything else you need for the night, Kyle? I guess not, if you have all this..."

"More food," she exclaimed, before Kara could leave her.

Kara stopped, spinning around to raise her eyebrows in disbelief. "You already had half the crisper."

She winced. "Yeah, uh... I'm pretty sure it got lost when this room was made. I'm just grateful she didn't blast my laptop away while she was at it."

"Okay, I'll look into it for you, Kyle. No promises I'll be able to get anything—there's already too much missing from the fridge, so I'll have to raid the garage this time. I'll bring some stuff right before bed. I can't come sooner, or they might realize where I went."

Kyle nodded, then stuck out one of her wings, wrapping it around Kara in an awkward hug. "Thanks, Kara. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me neither," Kara muttered, patting her awkwardly on the back. "Just... hold in there, Kyle. We'll figure this out."







To say all was not well in the Crystal Empire was about as powerful an understatement as Twilight Sparkle could know to make.

She hadn't even wanted to stay behind to do her spellcasting there, but to return to Ponyville and her magical lab to get the best of it done. But Princess Cadance didn't look like she could endure the stress. She'd see Twilight leaving like an admission that she'd failed at her spell. Sunburst had passable magical resources as their court wizard, even though he did almost none of the actual magic himself. At least he didn't mind Twilight coming in and stealing his laboratory for herself.

Sympathetic magic was difficult stuff, requiring the utmost concentration and precision. When it came to large distances, even a small variation in the initial heading could send the tracker hundreds or even thousands of miles in the wrong direction. What happens if I can't find her? Will Cadance think of me as the pony who lost her daughter for the rest of forever? It wouldn't be like any other pony hating her. She was family, and she'd probably live an awful long time. Even Twilight was sketchy on the details.

After eighteen hours and almost as many cups of coffee, Twilight finally set down her engraving pencil, taking a step back to appreciate the finished tracking spell. She'd carved it into a single piece of aluminum, slicing away at the even sheet until an intricate pattern with a large opening in the center remained. The outsides were now covered in glowing symbols, as perfect and symmetric as anything Star Swirl himself had made during the First Age.

"You're done," Sunburst said.

She jumped, nearly dropping the spell from her magic in surprise. "Woah! You're, uh... you're still in here?"

"Yeah, I get that a lot." He circled around the laboratory table, levitating a little brush and dustbin along. He cleaned her metal scraps off the table, not skipping a beat. "I know it's not my place to tell a princess to get some sleep, but... believe me, you can't survive on a diet of caffeine alone. I tried that a few years ago. I didn't leave the library for four days. But they had to take me to the hospital when it was over."

Twilight nodded weakly. She probably wouldn't have said anything to him if she'd been more in control of her senses. But she was so overwhelmed from the crafting that she'd have talked to a stump. "We'll be flying in the Crystal Empire's flagship once we leave. I'll get some sleep on the way."

She turned, picking up Flurry's stuffed toy and dropping it into the hollow center of the tracking spell. It caught there, suspended in the perfect center of the metal. It spun a few times, as though its little eyes were searching for the princess directly. Then it extended a stuffed paw. South-east. Though from the hesitation... they'd have to follow it all the way to be sure. We could be wrong. I'm not in any state of mind to be making complex judgements about Worldgates right now.

She brought the spell all the way back down to the throne room, through a gaggle of the Crystal Empire's finest. Most of them didn't look like they had a clue what they were supposed to be doing. Cadance was pacing, and whenever she drew near they would snap to attention, looking as fierce and regal as they could. Twilight didn't envy them their job.

"Cadance," she said, waving a wing in her direction. It didn't seem like the other Alicorn had slept either. Shining Armor was nowhere to be found this time. Presumably her brother was out supervising the search. "Have you learned anything new since I went to work?"

Princess Cadance almost didn't seem to hear her at first. Her eyes looked right past Twilight, and out the entrance to her throne room. Then she jerked, horn glowing defensively for a second. Twilight stood calmly, waiting for the other Alicorn to realize who she was looking at. "Oh!" Cadance shook her head. "No news, Twilight. We're widening the search outside the Crystal Empire, but the weather out there is so cold that... the royal guard don't last too long." Her silence was a simple enough message then: And if the soldiers can't last long, what hope does Flurry have? "But look, you're back! And you've got, uh... what is that, exactly? Did you finish the tracking spell?"

Twilight nodded. "I finished, and it's still working. That means..." She stopped whispering, speaking loud enough for all the ponies nearby to hear. "That means that Flurry Heart is still alive. It would've given me nothing otherwise."


Cadance instantly started crying, pulling her close and squeezing her like she'd already handed her back the missing foal. "Twilight, you don't... you can't imagine what this means to me. Without one of your own... we've been so worried all this time..."


Twilight winced, but didn't pull away. It hardly felt like she was ready to deserve any of that praise yet. "The spell was the easy part," she said. "I've got reactions like this from magic before. She's far away, way too far to walk. We'll need the airship after all."

Cadance nodded, gesturing for the little door behind the throne. "Th-this way. My husband has been preparing the Radiant Hope this whole time. We wanted to be able to leave the second you were done."


That doesn't give me enough time to get any of my friends. Twilight felt a brief, involuntarily surge of fear at the thought. Facing this challenge without them to keep her sane wouldn't be easy. But if she asked Cadance to delay for even a few moments, she'd probably snap. If I'm right about the Worldgate, I'll call for backup. This might just be a simple flight.


"Just so long as..." She yawned, then shook her head once before she started dozing right there in the hall. "So long as there's an empty cabin somewhere. I haven't... slept yet. Since this started. And I think I'd like to."

Cadance went as far as the lonely stone hallway beside her throne, finally stopping to look at her. "If you can explain your spell to me first, I could do that. Does it need you to be nearby to keep it running?"

"No." Twilight levitated it towards her. "I enchanted this thing to last. The toy inside helps point the way, see?" And when we get there, if it points at the marks along the rim, we know we're in trouble. "Just follow the bear."

"Follow the bear." Cadance yanked the spell out of her grip, with enough force that Twilight nearly stumbled over. "Right. We can do that. Follow the bear, get my daughter back. We're coming for you, sweetheart."