“Starlight, can we go today?” It was the same question the filly had been asking Starlight every day. It felt like months, though of course the child hadn’t been in Ponyville that long. And what does study under a princess get me? Foalsitting duty.
“No, Anon. We’re not going to the Everfree today. Or tomorrow, or the next day.”
The earth filly was adorable, in the same way as a pet with three legs. Anon wasn’t terribly large or very memorable, but she sure had ‘pathetic’ down to a science. She retreated a step, bumping her rear into the crystal wall of Twilight’s castle, before spinning to glare at it like she might attack. “But I need to go. You don’t understand, Starlight! None of you take me seriously!”
Of course we don’t. Look at the way you act. Starlight smiled parentally, lifting the filly gently off her hooves for a moment, straightening her, and settling her back down. “I notice you’re not wearing your schoolbags, Anon. Do you want to be late for class? You know the Cutie Talents Showcase is tonight, don’t you?”
The filly muttered something unintelligible. She looked like a pony sharing the worst profanity, but none of the words she used ever quite made sense. “Forget my class. I need to go to the Everfree!”
She’s never going to drop this if I don’t indulge her. Starlight nudged her with her snout, gesturing up the stairs. “You can’t miss class on the day of the Cutie Talents Showcase Anon. Why don’t we walk together? You can explain why it’s so important for a filly to go somewhere so dangerous, and I’ll listen very closely.”
“I only found out about it, uh…” the filly held up one hoof, squirmed as she stared at it, then tucked her tail and tripped.
Starlight caught her, a little pressure from her magic was more than enough to stop the filly from faceplanting. But how do you manage without a pony around to help you?
“Three days ago,” Anon went on, as though she hadn’t nearly fallen over while walking down a hall. “I heard from, uh… Apple Boose.”
“Apple Bloom,” Starlight corrected. They reached the filly’s room—a closet no smaller than the one they’d stuffed her in. She poked her head in, nose wrinkling at the smell.
Nothing was in place. Trash was scattered everywhere, including a small mountain of paper drink containers piled up by the desk. She’d never seen the filly wear anything, yet somehow she’d found plenty of dirty laundry to pile up high enough to make crossing the room difficult.
You make me wish I could still send ponies to a labor camp. “Let’s, just, uh…” Starlight scanned the room, spotting a set of saddlebags emerging from the mess. She lifted them up, securing them on the filly’s back. She’d never make it to class if she had to put it on herself. “There. You were saying?”
“Apple Juice said there was somewhere that wasn’t all… rainbow puke. Somewhere with monsters and demons and weather that doesn’t care what the horses tell it to do.”
Starlight Glimmer gave her a little push towards the stairs, following close behind. “Yes, that’s the Everfree. Though something tells me she didn’t say it like that.”
Anon ignored her, growing more excited with her explanation. “So that’s what I’ve been looking for since I got here! That’s where, uh… that’s where it is.”
Her eyes crossed for a moment, and she nearly fell over. Apparently the effort of thinking of one subject for more than a few minutes was too intense for her. “Where what is, Anon?”
“The Well,” Anon declared, her voice going momentarily flat. It might’ve been the first sincere thing she’d ever said. “I need to get there.”
Starlight had to keep urging her on, pulling her away from the kitchens and a dozen other little ways for her to sneak off before class. Some days, she even succeeded.
“I thought you didn’t remember anything specific,” she said. Not confrontationally—the filly never cooperated if it turned into an argument. “Is that changing?”
“What? I remember tons of stuff, Starbright. Like how I’m too old to get dragged off to a grade school. I already had to sit through schoolhouse rock once, just put a bullet in me instead.”
Starlight Glimmer had already scanned the filly’s mind for confounding spells, or else she probably would’ve done it again. She made those sounds like they were words, but they clearly didn’t hold any meaning.
“Starlight,” she prompted, patting her gently on the head with one hoof. “Though good effort. You’re getting better with names every day. Maybe one day you’ll tell us yours, huh?”
“Not bloody likely.” She twisted to the side, wiggling her flank and its strange mark. “Someone might find out I’m this stupid girl horse. Then they’ll ship me out to a petting zoo, or maybe I’ll do visits at little girl’s birthday parties.”
Even knowing what it was, Starlight was taken aback every time she saw it. Anon was the first and only pony she’d ever met with a simple punctuation symbol as her cutie mark. Not even Twilight could guess what talent it represented.
But for a second there, you were almost being honest with me. How do I get that pony back? The sooner she could get Anon to stop acting so… strange, the sooner she could find her a proper foster home.
And the sooner I’ll be free to focus on more important things. “Alright, Anon. I’ll make a deal. Your presentation tonight, for the Cutie Talents Showcase. If you get at least a Luna on your scorecard, I’ll… take you through the Everfree. On the safe paths, during the day.”
But Anon had stopped listening several syllables back. She squealed with delight, jumping into the air before wrapping one green foreleg around Starlight. “Thanks, Starbright! I’ll… I can do it.”
She retreated a few steps, puffing out her chest and composing herself. “I, uh… I can get a B. No problem. Passing and I’m through. Got it.”
She spun as they exited the castle, nearly tripping herself again on the dirt road just outside. “I’m gonna… you don’t have to walk me today, Pinko. I’ll see you after class!” she turned and galloped, determination on her face.
If a hike through the Everfree is what it takes to get her to be normal, then I don’t mind a hike.
Starlight knew how important the Cutie Talents Showcase was to the young fillies and colts of Ponyville. She’d forced herself to go each time, largely as a reminder for what she’d once stolen. She couldn’t forget her mistakes, lest she repeat them.
Still, there was something awkward to finding her place in the audience of the makeshift stage—in Ponyville’s city hall this year. Anon isn’t mine. I don’t think she even has a special talent.
Starlight squinted up at the stage, searching for any hint of the foals’ preparation. Maybe having something she wanted would give Anon a reason to try.
She’s always claiming to be older. What could happen to a filly to make her so bitter all the time?
The curtains opened, and Cheerilee appeared with her usual introductions. Starlight did her best to listen, though there was nothing new for her here. This was a chance for her students to express their special talent and prepare for whatever career waited for them in Equestria.
Then the first pair of students walked onto the stage. They had some expensive-looking instruments, and were apparently going to play something classical.
“Excuse me. Yes yes, Trixie isn’t here to perform. Just let me… past.”
Starlight spun, eyes narrowing at the source of the noise behind her. Of course there was no mystery about the sort of pony who’d make so much noise in the middle of somepony else’s performance.
Trixie squeezed past another row, then sat down beside Starlight.
“Trixie?” Starlight whispered. Despite the dignity this first pair of students were going for, the environment was relaxed. They wouldn’t be the only ones whispering back and forth. “I didn’t think you watched other ponies perform.”
The showpony had come in costume, for reasons that only The Great and Powerful Trixie would ever truly know. Starlight watched the pony behind her stretch and strain to both sides, trying to see around the hat. Starlight levitated it down onto the ground in front of them, and Trixie didn’t even seem to notice.
“Trixie is always looking for new talent,” she said. “Entertainment is a fiercely competitive arena, so she needs to be informed of potential rivals before they appear.”
Even she fell silent as the first round of applause echoed through the room. Nothing too excited—classical music wasn’t exactly interesting to most of Ponyville’s rural inhabitants.
“But this time I’m here to evaluate an addition to the act. A pair of long-time fans are performing an original illusion. I’m excited to see what they came up with.”
“That’s… surprisingly sweet of you,” Starlight admitted. “I didn’t think you could…” Think about anypony but yourself.
But Trixie was improving. She shouldn’t be surprised that she’d made progress.
“Oh, that’s them now!” She sat up straighter, watching intently as a pair of young colts walked onto the stage.
The inspiration for their costumes was obvious, given the starry pattern they’d copied. Trixie didn’t seem bothered by it, in any case.
Starlight would never understand the appeal of illusions, given they were surrounded by creatures capable of literal magic. But her friend seemed to enjoy it, and maybe that was enough.
The other students took their turns one after another, and with each one Starlight grew more nervous. Why did you wait for the end of the show, Anon? It’s not going to get easier by putting it off until the end.
Starlight wasn’t sure if she’d be disappointed or just relieved if the filly never performed. Half of Ponyville thought she was Starlight’s own child, despite lacking a single physical resemblance.
It’s okay, Starlight. She wants to go on that trip. She probably put a lot of effort in.
Finally the curtains opened, and there she was on the stage. Anon sat awkwardly on a stool, without any props or costume. She stared out at the crowd, ears flattening and tail tucking as unmistakable weight of stage-fright hit her.
Buck.
Anon rose from her seat, clearing her throat. “I, uh… I decided I was gonna do standup. Because you’ve got… so many extra legs, see? You don’t need…”
No one laughed. Starlight couldn’t be sure, but she doubted anypony even smiled.
“I was, uh… talking to Twilight the other day…” More winces and groans. Plenty of the town’s ponies knew the princess closely, but even so—the ones who weren’t her friends certainly didn’t just call her that.
“You know, Twilight? The princess of the anal-retentives? Where I come from they just give you a prescription for that, maybe a counselor, but…”
No laughter. Starlight seemed to be one of the few ponies in the room who understood what Anon was trying to say. The others only seemed baffled.
Cheerilee rose from her seat, expression hardening. Apparently she knew, too.
“Hehe, tough, uh… tough crowd.” The filly winced. “Guess this isn’t an… how about those doorknobs? Did you ever think about why—”
As Cheerilee walked, she dragged the curtains along in her mouth. Anon didn’t notice until she’d just about blocked her. “That’s all the time we have! We’re serving snacks in the banquet hall upstairs. Make sure to congratulate this year’s colts and fillies for their fantastic performances!”
“But I’m not—”
She wasn’t even listening. The curtains closed, and ponies began to rise. Conversation rose from between them, moving towards the stairs and their waiting children.
“I’ve seen better responses at funerals,” Trixie muttered. “That green one you adopted, tell her to keep her day job. Though Trixie would like to see Twilight’s face when she hears about this.”
Starlight gritted her teeth. “I didn’t adopt her. I was assigned after she was too much for Twilight to handle.”
“Right, right.” Trixie patted her on the shoulder. “I thought I had trouble getting along with others, but that filly is in a league all her own. Trixie wishes you luck with her—she’s got some advice to give to a pair of aspiring magicians.” She rose, slipping away with the rest of the crowd.
Starlight remained in her seat, letting the other ponies pass her by. Most of the other little colts and fillies had already reached their parents, lured by the promise of sweets. She didn’t see any green and black in that crowd, though.
The sound of conversation faded into a dull, distant murmur. Ann all-too familiar sound of other ponies enjoying their friendship while Starlight was alone.
She hesitated as she reached the curtains, one ear perking up. There was a sound coming through from the other side, one she’d never heard from Anon before.
She was crying. Starlight lifted the edge of the curtain with her magic, peeking inside just enough to confirm without making her presence there too obvious.
The filly hadn’t moved from her position at the end of the performance, sitting in place with her eyes down and her ears flat. She was actively fighting her tears, wiping them away every few seconds and trying to straighten—but without success.
Can’t fight feelings like that forever, kid. Sooner or later you have to realize the one commonality between all your failures is you.
“Hey,” Starlight poked her head in. “Guess that didn’t go quite the way you expected, did it?”
Anon snapped alert, rising to her hooves and glaring daggers at Starlight. “Fek off wanker, nobody asked you!”
Starlight ignored the instruction, slipping the rest of the way in and settling down on her haunches within reach of the filly. Not actually touching her, since that would probably prompt her to run. “That’s a different accent than I usually hear from you.”
Anon glowered for a few more seconds, before her strength crumpled like a can. “You’re here to…” she sniffed. “Gloat, right?”
I would’ve before. But humility is much more important than your grade. “We’ll see,” she said, noncommittally. “I might.”
“Don’t have to wait and see for that,” Anon whispered. “I could see it on Cheerilee’s face. She’s going to enjoy failing me. Feckin’ talent show and she’s failing me. I don’t know what I’m here for, but it ain’t being a horse.”
“So you do know her name.” Starlight reached gently towards her with a hoof, wrapping it around her shoulder. “Well I’ll tell you one thing, Anon. You special talent isn’t comedy.”
She waited for a reaction, but not even a smile. Still, the filly hadn’t pulled away from her. If anything she was clinging to Starlight’s leg, as desperate as any child.
“Sorry, that was probably too soon. But bad grades happen. Not everypony can be Twilight.”
There was a long silence. Anon didn’t look up when she spoke. “I will, sure. How do you all say it—I don’t bucking care about my grades?”
“Language,” Starlight chided.
“I’ll get over it,” Anon repeated. “But no one else will. I don’t get to go to the Everfree now. I won’t be going to the Well. Nothing changes.”
Starlight rose suddenly to her hooves, pulling away from the filly. I’m probably going to regret this. “It’s really that important to you?”
The filly stood behind her, swaying on her hooves. Then she nodded. “Y-yeah.”
“Then I’ll take you. Wait, before you get too excited. We’re going to stay on the path, and we won’t be going anywhere too dangerous. You’re still a filly, and Twilight—” Probably wouldn’t ask twice if you stopped showing up around the castle, after what you did. “Would be very upset with me if something went wrong.”
“Sure she would.” Anon stuck her tongue out, grinning. Then she leaned forward, wrapping her forelegs around Starlight. “Thanks, m—horse. Thanks horse.”
“But you have to stop calling everypony that,” Starlight continued, pushing the pony gently away. Considering the state of her room, Starlight would probably get some kind of infection if she touched her for too long. “Pony, not horse. That word is only polite for Saddle Arabians.”
Whatever little touch of sincerity Starlight had seen in the filly was long gone now. She coughed and spluttered, nearly falling over. “You’re kidding me. There’s no way that’s a thing.”
A trip into the Everfree wasn’t as big of a deal as Starlight had made it out to be. Of course it was useful for Anon to think this was an incredibly big deal, so when this inevitably went nowhere the filly wouldn’t ask for seconds.
Her moment of sincerity had earned her one trip into the forest. Besides, it’s probably some uncharacteristically cruel joke. It’s like what happened with Twilight all over again. Starlight didn’t have the princess’s hang-ups, but even she had a few nightmares about so many quesadillas in one place.
She made a big deal out of packing the filly’s bags, loading her up with everything a child might need it they got lost. “Whistle, first aid kit, compass, map, knife, snacks—”
“You mean farm animal food in a stick.” Anon watched her load up the bag, glaring more intently the more got loaded inside. “We’re not camping. Can’t we just go?”
“What do you do if you’re lost?” she asked, ignoring her complaints.
“Stay in place,” she answered, voice going flat and exasperated. “Blow my whistle until night. If it gets dark, climb up high and hide until morning. But I’m not gonna get lost. I know who you are, Starlight. You beat up a princess. Anything that gets in your way is gonna get…” she held up one hoof, then tried to do the same with the other and nearly fell over.
She lowered her voice for more profanity. “Dead. It’s gonna die. Cuz you’ll kill it.”
Starlight sighed, closing the strap and pushing the saddlebags back to her. In a way, the filly’s confidence was a compliment she didn’t get from the ponies that surrounded her daily. To them, learning her past terrified them.
I didn’t just beat the princess. I almost ended civilization. I wonder what you’d think of that. It was endearing, almost.
“That’s right,” Starlight secured the saddlebags in place on her back, then turned. “Well, those first things. I think Fluttershy would be pretty upset if I killed anything. She knows many of the creatures personally, even the frightening ones.”
“Personally,” Anon repeated. “You can’t know an animal personally. It’s just an animal.”
“Don’t say that to Fluttershy,” Starlight turned to go. “She’s pretty harsh with ponies who threaten her animals.”
The Everfree wasn’t that far from Twilight’s castle, really. She could already see the treeline from its doors, and Fluttershy’s cabin sitting quietly in the distance. What Starlight hadn’t expected to see was the pony heading up the path toward them. “Trixie? I thought you were going to Manehattan today. Didn’t you… need supplies for your next show?”
Trixie might not be wearing her costume, but she had brought her own set of saddlebags—with stars sewn into the fabric, of course. “When you commission an apparatus this complex, the craftsponies know they may need to hold it in reserve for a few days. It will still be there for me tomorrow.”
She leaned in closer, grinning. “I heard you were going to the Everfree. I couldn’t possibly let my good friend travel to that awful place alone. But if we can cross the world together and fight a changeling queen, than we can certainly survive a trip to the Everfree.”
“You did what to what?” Anon asked, raising an eyebrow. “You two did Marco Polo together?”
Trixie’s eyes went wide. “Well you’re a little young to be asking questions like that, aren’t you?” She turned up her nose. “Trixie thinks the filly should show a little more respect. Is she always like that, Starlight?”
Yes. “No. She’s just… precocious. She’s been waiting to go out for long enough that she can’t contain her excitement. Isn’t that right, Anon?”
The filly nodded, though she was missing the usual expression she wore when she thought she’d won something over on them. This was her “what did I do wrong?” face.
“Yeah,” she said. “I, uh… yeah. I’m so excited to be going. Can’t wait to…” she trailed off, turning for the forest. Despite how little Anon usually seemed to care about Ponyville, she knew exactly where they were going.
Just like she knows more names than she lets on. “How far away is the Well?”
“What is she talking about?” Trixie asked. Without formal word between them, they were on their way. Starlight wouldn’t admit it, but she was grateful for the company.
Trixie might not be magically useful, but at least she wouldn’t be alone with Anon for an entire day. It would be nice to have a pony around to remind her that everyone wasn’t that way.
“I don’t know,” Starlight answered. “To both of you. Anon, you’ve only told me that name. Just because you know what it is doesn’t mean that we do. I don’t know that it exists. I don’t mean to disappoint you now, but…”
“It’s there.” Anon marched ahead of both of them, her tail held high and her eyes focused on the forest. She’d never seen the filly so intent on anything before. “It’s there, and we’re going to find it.”
Starlight wasn’t sure exactly where Anon actually wanted to go. After a very short time, it became clear to her that she didn’t know either.
But once the castle’s old rope bridge came into view, Anon ignored it for the smaller, fainter trail leading further away.
“Are we sure we should be going out so far?” Trixie asked, between sips from her Trixie-themed canteen. “It doesn’t look like most ponies come this way.”
Starlight shrugged, keeping her voice down. Anon was so focused on the trail that she probably wasn’t listening, but she didn’t want to risk being overheard just in case. “If I make her turn back before she’s satisfied, she’ll just obsess about coming back here. I’ve had to deal with her long enough to know that.”
Trixie nodded, grinning back at her. “That’s thinking ahead.”
“There’s no reason to expect we’ll find anything,” she continued. “Anon hasn’t ever been here. She only heard of the Everfree last week. I’m not sure what she even expects to find in here.”
“There!” The Filly called from up ahead, voice suddenly excited. She gestured and pointed with a hoof, into a crack in the rock that Starlight wouldn’t have even noticed. But as Anon got closer, a faint green glow emerged from inside. It brighter and fainter like something alive, answering her presence with magic of its own.
“What is that?” Trixie stopped dead on the path, eyes widening. “Starlight, I thought you said we weren’t going to find anything!”
“She said that?” Anon whimpered, ears flattening again. “Starlbright, it’s here! Just like I said! I knew it had to be close…”
“Why?” Starlight wasn’t afraid—not of the entrance, anyway. She was barely listening to the filly anymore, though. Instead, she kept her eyes on the opening, feeling at it with her magic. There was power here, though it wasn’t one she’d ever felt before. “How did you know?”
“Because it’s how I got here.” Anon didn’t seem to care how afraid they were, slipping down into the opening.
Good thing I’m not claustrophobic.
“Trixie will wait up here,” she declared, settling onto her haunches. “Just… don’t take too long. If we have to spend night in a cave, Trixie is going to reconsider her priorities.”
Starlight Glimmer stepped into the gloom, bathed in faint green light. She expected it to fade—more like a beacon so passing ponies could find the entrance. But the further she went, the light only grew brighter.
There would be no danger of getting lost. Through the little crack in the rock, the cave expanded to a vast space, like a funnel stretching down. There wasn’t a staircase in the side so much as an awkward shelf of rock that almost felt stable enough to climb.
“Slow down!” she called, her voice echoing strangely in the vast space. It shifted and wavered in pitch, like a thousand other Starlights had joined in with her. But no matter how much she looked, she couldn’t see anypony else.
Wait, that wasn’t right. There was a shape approaching her from behind, a misshapen outline distorted and stretched by green glow.
“Trixie changed her mind. She’s coming with you after all. The wildlife is already closing in on her.”
Starlight nudged her gently, trying to shut her up without startling her over the edge. Not that she wouldn’t be able to catch her if she fell—but the look of this place made her think she’d need her magic for more important things before too long.
“I think you picked a much more dangerous place,” she whispered. She hurried to try and catch up with the filly, but she could only move so quickly over the uneven stone.
Starlight chanced a glance over the edge, down into the bottom of the cavern. There glow was the strongest, and a pool of liquid had collected. “Be careful, Anon. You shouldn’t be down here. This is princess level stuff. Let Twilight come here and investigate.”
The filly was just out of reach now—while Starlight didn’t feel she was moving that fast, the child could barely limp along without tripping. “Are you kidding? If Twilight finds out this has anything to do with me, she’ll claim the entrance caved in and never look back.”
You’re probably right.
Anon slowed as they neared the bottom, eyes never leaving the strange green liquid. This close the magical pressure against Starlight’s horn was almost overwhelming… but also strange, like a hoof running the wrong way down her fur.
This isn’t Equestrian magic. It’s coming from somewhere else. “This thing… made you?”
Where before her voice had echoed, now every word she spoke was badly muffled, barely audible in the darkness between them.
“No.” Anon sat on the edge of the pool, staring down with eyes so wide they were black. “I… came through from here. From the other side.”
“We should leave,” Trixie said, a little louder. “Trixie knows a tough room when she sees one. This is the kind of place that gets you chased out of town.”
“Are you…” how could she ask without sounding too eager. “Was this about going home? You found your way here by accident, so you’re going back down?”
Anon shook her head. “I don’t think there’s a home to go back to.”
She glanced back at Starlight, considering. “Guess I’m not really much of a horse, am I? Never… really wanted to be.”
Starlight rested a hoof on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be at your age, Anon. You can decide to change any time you want, trust me. Equestria has plenty of space for ponies who change.”
“And be stuck here?” The filly turned up her nose, probably about to say something cruel—but she hesitated. “I could have a worse retirement.”
Before Starlight could stop her, she bent down and took a drink.
The cave rumbled and shook, nearly taking her legs from under her. Was it… caving in? A huge chunk of rock landed with a crash nearby, spraying them with chunks of stone.
Starlight had been ready for something like this, so she didn’t hesitate. She focused, forming a protective shell around everypony at the bottom of the cave, and teleporting them back out onto the surface.
They appeared in a flash. Starlight wobbled on her hooves, dropping down to rest on one knee and catch her breath.
The world came slowly back into focus around her, voices fading back in after the impact of her spell. Starlight was quite good at teleportation, but with so much stray magic blasting all around her…
Why the buck did you do that, Anon? Were you trying to get us killed? Or maybe just poison yourself.
But as Starlight was finally able to get a good look, she realized with horror that something was wrong. She hadn’t brought three ponies out of that cave, but four.
Trixie was just beside her, exactly where she’d been standing relative to Starlight when she teleported. But in front there were two young ponies.
One young pegasus filly, with a splotch white and blue coat, looking slightly annoyed—and Anon, soaking wet and curled into a fetal position. She didn’t move, barely even seemed to be breathing.
Sweet Celestia I killed her.
Ignoring the strange new pony—that was a problem she could solve in a bit—she dropped down beside the filly, nudging at her with a hoof. “I’m sorry, Anon! I shouldn’t have let you come here! Please wake up…”
The child didn’t respond.
“I’m right here,” said the stranger, in a voice Starlight had never heard before. “Did you just have a stroke?”
Starlight prodded the filly again, growing more rational as she gave her brain a chance to catch up. She could feel a pulse, even if the pony wasn’t conscious. Starlight settled her back down, nice and gentle.
“Who the buck are you?” Trixie asked. “I didn’t see any other ponies lurking in that awful cave.”
“I’m A—” The filly tilted her had slightly to the side, suddenly contemplative. “Wait, no. I had a name. Why the hell couldn’t I remember that?”
She shoved past Trixie, embracing Starlight shamelessly. “Thanks for bringing me here, Starlight. I feel… god, like my brain just got some industrial defogger.”
Starlight stiffened reflexively at the stranger’s touch, at her totally unknown smell. But even if she didn’t sound the same, the way she spoke… that was familiar. “You’re Anon?”
“Not anymore, I think.” She let go, glancing back at the cave entrance. Or… where it had been. Where before the rock had yawned open, glowing green, now it was speckled black, without any sign something had been there. “I’m Sidney, or I was. Guess I might need something new if I stick around.”
Sidney had a cutie mark, a little paper plane with hearts on the wings. A real pony, with a real talent.
“Starlight, I think Anon is waking up,” Trixie called, nudging the pony with a hoof. “Unpleasant green child, are you alright?”
The pony opened her eyes, looking dazed. She reached out with both legs, wrapping them around Trixie’s. “Mom? Where am I?”
“I’m not your mother,” Trixie muttered. “Now, get up. You’re getting forest all over you.”
The filly tried to stand—with just her hindlegs, flopping forward uselessly. At least she didn’t have very far to fall.
“I guess there was only enough room for one at a time.” Sydney reached out, helping the filly to her hooves. “Buck, I remember that feeling. Half alive, half roasted almonds. You’re in for an awful ride, Anon.”
“It’s getting dark soon.” Starlight gestured back the way they’d come. “We need to be back in Ponyville before that. Can you help Anon, Trixie?”
The showpony didn’t look like she wanted anything to do with her—but she didn’t have a choice. Anon clung to her like a foal half her age. After a few minutes of struggle, she gave up and just let her do it.
Sydney wasn’t being quite so clingy, but she was clearly following Starlight. “That thing, it was the Well?” Starlight asked. “What’s it a well of, exactly?”
Sydney shrugged. “Thanks for taking me either way. I’ve made up my mind—I’d like to stay here. If you’ll keep me around.”
She considered a long time before answering. By the time she did, Ponyville was coming into view through the trees, Twilight’s castle rising imposing in the distance.
“I might. But you can’t call me ‘Starbright’ again.”