Twilight Sparkle settled uneasily into her throne, tail whipping about behind her in agitation. It wasn’t anything specific that was going wrong—but her new tail made it difficult to find a comfortable position. She rose, shuffled a bit, nudged the cushion on her throne, then gradually settled back down. Was that better? Not really, whatever.
Her friends hadn’t gotten off easier. The effects of what Equestria now called the “Great Fox” had remained on them as poignantly as on Twilight herself, making subtle adjustments to appearance and behavior that many creatures didn’t even notice. Applejack’s mane was still fluffy and hot, Rainbow’s tail was big enough to have a private seat of its own, and Pinkie had kept one of her bows. She used the ribbons even now to sip delicately at fruit punch in a tiny little teacup.
Of course, the worst thing by far was the map. The Cutie Map looked to be having a kind of nervous breakdown, with their marks appearing almost everywhere at once, shifting from one section to another and growing larger and smaller as different problems arose, then were supplanted by others.
Starlight Glimmer nudged the table with a paw, which she’d kept. “Looks like Equestria is recovering about as well as we could expect. So where do we start, Princess? Nowhere’s jumping out at me.”
Don’t you even start with me.
“Cloudsdale,” Rainbow said, surprising even Twilight with her sudden confidence. “Everywhere else has a mix of different powers, kinda like Equestria was before. But my hometown is all the same. The weather factory probably needs to be overhauled before it’s running again. If we don’t fix it now, all Equestria will hurt once their rain doesn’t get delivered on time.”
Rarity cleared her throat, pushing aside a bright blue strand from her face. “I don’t mean to be confrontational, but I think you’re describing an advantage, dear. Those winged-creatures they ended up… that kept a sense of camaraderie. The city isn’t aching like Canterlot. Just look at all those flashes.”
She lowered her voice, leaning in for them all to hear. “I’ve heard rumors—and they’re only rumors—that some ponies were eaten during the Fox. I know, it sounds dreadful. But the evidence is there.”
“That’s horseradish is what that is,” Applejack countered. “Ain’t nopony got eaten like it was the olden days. We’ve come further than that.”
Rarity raised a defensive hoof. “I’m just repeating what I heard. The rumors were about Canterlot, which is why I mention them. So many creatures, who have always depended on the princess for order in their lives. Then they’re gone, and… the results are rather predictable.”
Twilight winced as she heard it. She knew those rumors—and worse, she knew they were true. Correlating the dead and injured during the Great Fox was difficult, given how many were still missing, and how remote some villages could be. But the numbers were depressingly high.
“It’s not your fault, Twilight,” Princess Celestia had reassured, the very next morning. “You were as safe as you knew how. No creature could’ve anticipated anything as virulent as Eevee crossing over to our world. Don’t blame yourself.” She also hadn’t done anything to blame Starlight, even though her work on Twilight’s portal had caused the effect to spread.
But if Starlight ached about it, Twilight could no longer make out her grief through those solid blue eyes.
She rose from her chair, straight down to the table. “It’s no one place that needs our help,” she said. “I wish the map was being… clearer about its intentions. But what I’m seeing from all this is that we need to split up. I think Rainbow and Fluttershy should go to Cloudsdale, uh… Rarity and Applejack can go to Canterlot, and Pinkie and I will visit Manehattan. That means you’ll be holding down the fort on the school like before, Starlight. And Spike, you’ll be making sure Ponyville doesn’t burn down. Any… worse than it has.”
Spike looked up from his little chair, long tail twitching. But other than the strange blue spheres, he’d mostly escaped the Great Fox’s worst side effects. Not all of the Dragonlands had done so well. Celestia help us if they realize we were the ones who caused it, instead of just the ones who saved the world.
For that reason alone, no creature could ever learn the true cause of the Great Fox. Its secrets would have to go with her friends to their graves.
“Can’t we go and check on a little village like Appleloosa or Dodge Junction?” Applejack asked. “Canterlot’s got lots ‘a help, I’m sure. But nopony cares about the little guy.”
Good thing you didn’t ask about Pinkie. It didn’t seem to matter that their sisters would’ve been changed anyway once Starlight’s attempt to cure them failed, there was still a sore spot between them about Pinkie. There was probably plenty of healing left to do there.
“They didn’t have it as bad,” Rainbow said. “I went through Appleloosa a week into the Great Fox. It was doing pretty good. Ponies were scared, and hiding a lot… but with all that space, there was plenty of room to roam around and hunt. The only time we had trouble is when foxes were stuck too close together and couldn’t get away.”
Applejack groaned noncommittally, then shrugged one shoulder. “You think the same way, Twi?”
She nodded. “We’ll visit all of Equestria eventually. But wouldn’t you say the Appleloosa ponies are tougher than city folk? Think of it like that—they don’t need as much from us.”
“I guess so.” She sat back, obviously still unhappy. But she didn’t argue anymore, so that was something.
“What about fixing us?” Rarity asked. “I’m not ungrateful, of course, but… I think I’ve had my fill of the cold for a good long while. My poor sister has to keep the fire burning in her room all the time.”
Probably never going to happen, Twilight thought. Unless you want to risk this starting again. But before she could find a more diplomatic way to answer, Starlight did the job for her.
“The Eevee doesn’t respond to magic very well. Our few tests resulted in…” She rested one paw up on the table for her to see, stretching it to extend the claws within. “Well, I tried it on myself first. Are you volunteering?”
Rarity shook her head, eyes going wide. “That’s where those came from? Celestia above I’m so sorry I mentioned it.”
Twilight glanced pointedly around the table. “This is important to talk about, actually. You need to know, and everypony you visit needs to know, that we can’t reverse this. Maybe one day some new transformation spell will be able to treat individuals one at a time, but there won’t be another wave to change them back like a week ago.
“As of now, inter-universal travel is permanently banned. Aside from the mirror portal, we’re sealing off every artifact and reference on the subject. Without access to the home of Eevee, we won’t be able to draw the power in. But the risk of losing what little we have gained is simply too great. We barely got our bodies back even this much. I don’t think anypony wants to tempt fate with another try.”
She didn’t even have to look at her friends to know they all felt the same way. Most of them weren’t even that resentful of what few fox traits remained. Some, like Pinkie, even seemed to enjoy the change. Because she’s half insane.
They rose, preparing to go their separate ways. Twilight remained by the table to answer questions and make suggestions for each group. With Equestria’s infrastructure damaged or completely out of commission, getting anywhere would be a challenge. But the worst for her group, which was why she’d chosen the furthest place to go.
“Guess we’re going together, huh?” Pinkie asked, her ribbons settling on the table between them. “I’m excited to see Manehattan again. Do you think the foxes will be happy to see us?”
So long as they don’t find out it’s our fault they’re still a little like foxes. She touched one wing lightly on Pinkie’s shoulder, smiling exasperatedly. “We’re, uh… not foxes anymore. You can go back to saying anypony if you want.”
Pinkie shrugged. “We might look more like ponies, but the feel didn’t change much.” She plounced past Twilight with a few bounding steps, leading her out. “I know you’re feeling it right now. You can still do things that ponies shouldn’t do. You know how people feel before they feel it. You can tell when somepony is about to open your door, or if they’re going to be upset. Does that seem like the way a pony would be?”
Twilight tensed reflexively, her tail lifting high behind her. But just knowing she was responding emotionally wasn’t enough to stop her from doing it. There was just too much instinct to ignore. “It’ll wear off. Residual magic never lasts on living things.”
She passed Pinkie, gesturing up the stairs. “We’ll be taking an airship instead of the train, by the way. I know there’s one leaving from the Canterlot dock first thing in the morning with relief supplies. We’ll just hitch a ride.”
And please don’t ask why we aren’t going with Applejack.
But Pinkie didn’t, and they worked their way down the castle’s spiral staircase in relative silence. “What are we going to do when we get there?” Pinkie finally asked. “Manehattan is just full of foxes, right? And we’re just two. Maybe Rarity should be going instead.”
Twilight shrugged. “I’m… reasonably sure the map wants us there. It’ll be just like old times—visit somewhere, search for the friendship problems, and do our best to help.” And hopefully nopony died there.
“Trusting to fate, I like it.” Pinkie wrapped a ribbon around one of Twilight’s legs, about halfway up. She wasn’t sure she liked the sensation very much—the ribbons were soft, but also always uncomfortably warm, like touching a pony’s bare skin. And if they were attached to her, did that mean…
Not going to think about that. She pried herself free with a little levitation, now mercifully returned. So far as she knew, only her senses were still twisted by her time as a cat. She was an ordinary Alicorn otherwise. “I guess you could call it that.”
They emerged from inside the castle into a Ponyville that was more or less the same as it had been before the disaster began. A total of three homes had been burned, and one pony was still missing: one of the flower sisters. If anything, the town was closer together than ever. Ponyville had always faced greater dangers than most parts of Equestria, this was just another one for the wall in Mayor Mare’s office.
Twilight didn’t say anything else until they were halfway to the train station, listening to the thoughts and feelings of a hundred ponies. After the dark visions of the map, seeing somewhere ponies were actually succeeding was a little healing she desperately needed.
“You’re different, Pinkie,” she said, as the old building was finally coming into view. Engine 38 was still shoved off to the side, resting silently on some empty track. It was already becoming a bit of a tourist destination in itself, the train that saved Equestria. It would probably end up in a museum before the year was out, along with the disassembled portal (with all the functional bits missing, so nopony could study what was left).
“I am?” She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t feel different. Other than the obvious.” She adjusted her bow, grinning wider.
Her hair was still curly, but that expression—it made Twilight shiver. Not as strange as Starlight’s solid-color eyes, but still hard to look at. “You’re calmer than usual. Are you feeling okay? If one of my friends needs help before we go and help somepony else, you know how important that would be.”
Pinkie patted her on the head with both ribbons at once. “That’s thoughtful, Twi. But… I’m fine, really. I think the fox thing just… helped me see the world a little differently, is all. I don’t have to rush out and take the fun. Fate’s funny like that—it’s always there to make sure the fun can find me.”