//------------------------------//
// Twilightning 
// Story: House of the Rising Sunflower 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

Sundance discovered—much to his own dismay—that he did not like being squeezed and squirted out of a tube. Reality had a magenta tint that went beyond mere colour and was more of a sensation. Yes, the sensation of magenta, which rather felt like having a backed up sneeze while also being squishy-squirted out of a tube. Only instead of a tube of toothpaste, this was a tube of lightning—magenta lightning—and Sundance rode the arc as he was extruded from wherever it was that he was. He had no idea where he was, or if he was even alive. 

The purply-pink lightning bolt speared the ground and released a thunderous explosion that threatened to tear the very fabric of reality. Sundance—who had leg bones and organs again—found himself on the grass, wobbling about like a newborn foal. Sparrowhawk was just a few yards away, and seemed every bit as disoriented as he was. At least she wasn't screaming; she was probably too stunned to do so. Sensing that lightning would strike again, Sundance tried to will his legs into action, but he wasn't sure which direction to go. 

The air above him exploded and reality once more tore itself asunder. A ribbon of magenta lightning crackled into existence, and a sky truck glowing with dancing orbs of electrical energy appeared several yards over Sundance's head. Solid magenta light struck him, slapped him, a strong physical force that was far too rigid to be mere illumination, and he was shoved away from where he stood to a spot of safety just as the sky truck crashed down upon the spot of ground where he'd been standing just seconds before. 

Before he could recover, Sundance's pegasus-senses warned him that more lightning was coming. On rubbery legs he wobbled over to where Sparrowhawk was, and using his own body, he tried to shield her from whatever was about to happen next. Vivid purple-pink squiggles danced on the surface of his retinas and everything around him blazed with aetherfire. The spot where he'd appeared was scorched and blackened, fried to a crisp. 

Just as another pony popped into existence, Sundance vomited up what remained of his lunch of beans. As he retched into the grass, Sparrowhawk began screaming once more, there was another concussive blast of lightning, and a second pony appeared several yards away. Still puking, Sundance raised his wing to shield his eyes from the blinding brilliance, and as his stomach turned itself inside out, his senses told him that even more lightning was on its way. 

Blinded, unable to see, and his body convulsing as he emptied his guts, Sundance could not make out the pony that approached. Somehow, over the deafening ring in his ears he heard a somewhat familiar voice say, "Sleep now." Mere seconds later, Sparrowhawk's screeching came to an abrupt end. Another bolt of lightning arced down and the following thundercrack almost dunked Sundance into his own puke puddle. 

But something saved him and kept him upright. 

"My daughter has lousy aim," the familiar voice said. "Where are we, anyhow? This isn't where we need to be."

Then, Sundance heard the sound of another pony retching. 

"Boss, I can't feel my toes." 

"Wormwood, you don't have toes—" 

"Oh no, Boss! Where'd my toes go? What did Twilight do?" 

"Wormwood, get that sky truck on its wheels. We're going to need it." 

"Sure thing, Boss." 

"Night Light, get Buttermilk up on her hoofsies. Copper, quit lazing about in the grass, this is no time for sunbathing. Somepony please try to figure out where we are. I hope we're not lost in the boonies. We need a teapot and civilisation right away." 

Now stricken with dry heaves, there was nothing left for Sundance to spew, but his body insisted on trying anyway. Multi-coloured blobs of light danced in his vision and his sides cramped horrendously. When he almost pitched over into his own puddle of sick a second time, he was once more held up by a warm, tingly force. 

"Lord Sundance, the cavalry has arrived. Just as soon as we've sorted out where we are, we'll do our best to get you home." 



 

Makeshift curtains hung over the windows of the infirmary, a quick and hasty fix by Night Light. A temporary bandage was wrapped around Sundance's leg, and the flap of skin beneath would be sewn up later. Sparrowhawk—still damp from a much needed bath—lay in a blissful sleep, untroubled, and free of terror. Sitting on a wooden chair, Corduroy absentmindedly scratched at her own stomach while she sat in quiet contemplation. In the bed beside Sundance, little Tarantula sat with wide eyes, and watched all the goings on in silence. He had himself a tummy ache and was quite alarmed by the sudden arrival of so many. 

Doubled over, Copperquick clutched at his stomach and groaned with every breath taken. He hadn't quite recovered from the teleportation incident, and if truth be told, Sundance hadn't either. The others were fine though, and he rather resented them for their quick recovery. It was quiet, perhaps too quiet, but Sundance was thankful for the time to recover. He had questions, a great many questions, and all things considered, he was rather peeved with Twilight Velvet right now. He hoped that answers would be forthcoming. 

There was a faint pop that startled him, and Sundance watched as a scroll tube materialised in a wash of green fire over Night Light's head. Before it could fall down and strike him, the blue stallion caught it, opened it, unrolled it, and had himself a look at it. His eyes darted back and forth as he read, and his expression became one of absolute relief. 

"Yam and Azure have made it out of the city and are on a train to Canterlot. The whereabouts of Mister Teapot are unknown, but we must assume that he will follow the plan. The Wardens are already preparing for everything that comes next." 

"You used me," Sundance said to Twilight Velvet. 

"I did," she replied without hesitation. "And I owe you an explanation. Oh, and gratitude. And maybe even a medal." 

"I don't want a medal," he said to her in as sulky of a tone as he dared muster. "But an explanation would be nice." 

"You became a last-minute addition to a plan put into motion some time ago," Twilight Velvet said as she reached out and stroked little Tarantula. "It was Copperquick's idea. He deserves the credit for this." 

In response, Sundance asked, "Are you saying this is his fault? Are you throwing him under the wagon?" 

The twinkly-eyed mare chuckled; it was more of a relieved sound than amused. "Copper had a brilliant plan. I would never throw him under the wagon, I depend upon him far too much." 

"She does," Copperquick groaned. "Couldn't do her job without me." 

"That's true." Nodding her head in agreement, Twilight Velvet reiterated her statement. "That's absolutely true." 

Another scroll burst into existence over Night Light's head. This one too, was caught, opened, and read, only this time, nothing was said. But the blue stallion frowned and seemed just a bit distraught by whatever the message had to say. Sundance thought about asking, but didn't—he didn't know what to ask or how to ask it, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to know. 



 

"To understand what happened, you have to understand what brought this about." With little Tarantula held in her forelegs, Twilight Velvet seemed right at home in the simple wooden chair. She kissed the donkey foal on top of his head, gave him a gentle hug, and then adjusted his position so that he could recline comfortably. "Forget all the spy stuff, here's the part that you'll understand. It's all bureaucracy." 

"Of course it is," Sundance replied matter-of-factly. 

"I have no real power in Fillydelphia. No real authority. No jurisdiction." Her face became neutral, but her eyes blazed with repressed fury. "I can't actually do my job. But, with regards to the asylum, it becomes infinitely more complicated. The Crown pays for thirty-three percent of the cost to operate, and the city of Fillydelphia pays the other sixty-six percent. When the agreement was hammered out over a hundred years ago, the terms and conditions were absolute. To keep things simple there was a distinct lack of weasel-words and wiggle room. 

"The city, paying a majority of the cost, was responsible for all inspections, audits, and all of the management of the asylum. At the time, I am sure this was a reasonable agreement, because it saved the Crown a lot of bits. The city was responsible for all of the administrative costs. But this also meant that representatives of the Crown were not allowed to interfere with the asylum… not unless we wanted to pay the majority share, or were at least willing to split the costs fifty-fifty. So the city was allowed autonomous administration, free of interference from the Crown." 

Little Tarantula, limp as a noodle, now slept in Twilight Velvet's embrace. 

"So, powerlessness was a cost-saving measure," Sundance remarked as Corduroy began to unwrap the bloody bandage around his foreleg. 

"The Crown had to trust that the city would hold up their end of the deal," Buttermilk said to Sundance. "Which they didn't. Obviously. When we first started to try and expand our influence to Fillydelphia, we encountered stiff resistance. On the surface level, there was a sense of cooperation. A big deal was made about how we were working together and the public ate it right up. But we couldn't actually do much of anything. The more digging we did, the more trouble we found. And we hadn't even uncovered the dirty deeds of the asylum, just the foal services in general. We found a river of corruption." 

"Which you were powerless to do much about," Sundance said when Buttermilk seemed finished. 

"Right," the bespectacled pegasus said. "There were similar agreements. The Crown paid thirty-three percent and the city kept majority costs. The filings were all boilerplates of the asylum contract. Which meant that we were not allowed to interfere unless we found hard evidence of wrongdoing." 

"And to crack down on the asylum, we needed indisputable proof of wrongdoing," Twilight Velvet said. "So we began to build a case. We've been at this for almost a year now." 

Pointing at her husband, Buttermilk said, "Copper had himself an idea to see if we could use the old laws as leverage somehow. The absolute laws. From back in the day when we believed that flexibility was a societal detriment. Copper found out that Princess Celestia technically owns every single pony in Equestria. That law has never actually been changed. But it was amended almost three-hundred years ago. Princess Celestia has special ownership over any asset that the Crown pays for. About two-hundred years ago, this got amended too. But specifically, the part that helps us is the fact that Princess Celestia owns ponies that are cared for through the Crown. 

"Copper found that property laws are pretty darn absolute, and with Princess Twilight's approval, we had custodial ownership of Sparrowhawk transferred to you, Sundance. On the court docs, we had it listed as an inheritance from your grandmother, and we used all of your filings to prove indisputable ownership. Absolute ownership. Which, admittedly, is messed up, but it gave us the ways and means to crack this case open. You, as the property owner, have the absolute right to retrieve your property." 

"There's an insider in the asylum that gave us access to Sparrowhawk's name and patient file," Twilight Velvet said as she took over the explanation. "According to the city, those files don't exist. But our informant gave us evidence that Sparrowhawk existed. With a name and evidence of existence, we gave ownership to you. It was just the break we needed. Without that, I don't think any of this would be possible." 

"And now that we have her," Wormwood said from where he sat in the corner, "we can look inside her head, find out all that's been done, and use it as evidence of wrongdoing." 

"But we're not the only ones who can peek inside of somepony's head," Twilight Velvet said to Sundance. "We know for certain that they have the ways and means to do the same. Our informant told us that. So we couldn't tell you of the plan. But that's not the only reason… I had my own concerns about filling you in." 

"And those were?" he asked. 

"You're a yes-pony," she replied with blunt honesty. "My concern was that if I told you of the plan you'd do anything to follow through. I had valid concerns about your sense of duty and how it might affect your judgment." 

With a sigh, Sundance considered these words, and as much as it bothered him, he knew them to be true. His sense of duty might have overrode his common sense. When Corduroy's paw pressed against his neck, he turned to look at her, but said nothing. It bothered him that he understood Twilight Velvet's reason. He'd done all of this for his own reasons, because it needed to be done. But if he'd gone in as if he were on a mission—well, he couldn't even imagine how differently all of this might have turned out. 

"I have to stitch this," Corduroy said without a trace of apologetic concern. 

"You were never in any real danger." Extending her wing, Buttermilk pushed her spectacles up her nose and then leveled them out. "Yam's talent is strange. We don't understand it. But he knew of your exact location the whole time. The extraction team was at the ready. But that would have been a terrible outcome, and might have been the match that ignites the powder keg that is Fillydelphia. Mister Teapot is not subtle. But he has experience in getting in and out of impossible places." 

"This is going to hurt," Corduroy whispered. "A lot. The skin is very thin and this is a bony place. Plus, the nerve cluster is right there. Would you like for me to put you under?" 

Sundance was quick to reply, "Yes please." 

"I am sorry to interrupt," Corduroy said to the others. "But this really must be done now." 



 

Sundance awoke to the sounds of soft conversation and was too groggy to open his eyes. His foreleg ached, but he did his best to ignore it. Iodine tickled his nose and made him want to sneeze. With his senses dulled, it was difficult to make out what was being said, and who said it. The flavour of cotton was on his tongue, as well as some bitter, almost metallic taste. He was thirsty, but he didn't wish to reveal that he was awake just yet. 

"—while I understand why you did what you did, that doesn't change the fact that you sent him into danger." 

"I know. I know exactly what I did." 

"I'm willing to agree that it was necessary, but I don't have to like it. Sundance is many things, but he's not a warrior." 

Eyes closed, Sundance still somehow managed to wince. 

"Which is why he was perfect for the job." 

There was a soft half-growl, half-sigh. 

"No, hear me out. Sundance had the best chance of walking out of there without trouble. At least, that's my opinion. The odds were good. He's a pleasant, agreeable sort. I knew that he had it in him to talk his way out of this. This outcome was dependent upon his passive, agreeable nature." 

"And I suppose this was the best possible outcome." 

"Well, the alternatives are a bunch of ponies getting hurt. Or failing to extract Sparrowhawk. Corduroy, forgive me, but I don't think you fully appreciate what Sundance is capable of. For him to have completed his project… do you have any idea how many officious bureaucrats he had to deal with to do what he did? For all of his passiveness, he has remarkable tenacity. Perhaps too much." 

"Which is why you didn't fill him in on the mission." 

"Correct. Sundance, for all his desire to do good, is still entirely too green." 

"Yeah, he kinda is." 

Again, Sundance winced. 

"Like Twilight, Sundance lived a sheltered existence. He had his project, which no doubt consumed his life. Also like Twilight, he's since come out swinging, and is ready to take on the whole world, without quite realising that the world is ready to take on him. He's going to learn the hard way as he goes, just like Twilight did. He has no concept of his own limitations." 

"That's true. But there is something about Sundance believing that anything is possible that makes me believe it too. He's my friend. If something would have happened to him…" 

"That's the hardest lesson of both friendship and motherhood, Corduroy. When I found out that Twilight had gone off to pick a fight with Nightmare Moon, I just about lost my mind. I was a worldly mare, ready for anything. Any crisis. But I wasn't ready for that. Twilight had a nose for trouble, and she was constantly in over her head in situations that she could barely comprehend. I lived a very tense existence for quite some time." 

"Sundance, would you like a glass of water?" asked Corduroy. 

A startled whimper escaped Sundance's lips. 

"I heard your heart rate change a few minutes ago and I've been waiting for you to say something." 

"Uh…" Sundance croaked. "I would very much like a glass of water… and maybe a cup of tea." 



 

Upright once more, Sundance sipped his cup of tea and thought about the events of the day. It was late afternoon now, though with the windows covered, it was difficult to tell. His head ached a bit; not so much a hooligan headache as it was the aftereffects of stress. But, all things considered, he felt good about himself, even if he was still unsettled by how it all happened. 

Night Light sat at the infirmary table with a pile of dispatches beside him. His face was tired, his eyes were sad, and his withers slumped as if there were some great weight upon his back. Beside him, Twilight Velvet was busy writing something, and her face was wizened from concentration. The scratching of a pen against paper made Sundance's ears twitch. 

Wormwood was a huge, imposing figure, a mountain of a pony. Like River Raider, he was a nocturnal pegasus. Unlike River Raider, he was in full control of his talents. His reptilian eyes were focused on Sundance, and he sat in the corner on the floor because no chair was big enough or strong enough to support his bulk. For all of his intimidating features, there was something friendly about the ginormous brute, and Sundance decided that he was likeable. 

"Are you ready?" asked Wormwood. 

"My head is still pretty foggy," Sundance replied. 

"I'll be able to see through all that without problem." 

"Before we do this, I have something I want to say." 

"Go ahead." 

"I don't want you poking around inside of Sparrowhawk's head without her consent. If she says no, that's it. That's final. I'll not go against her wishes. I don't care if that ruins your carefully laid plans." 

Twilight Velvet's head swiveled around and her pen clattered against the table. 

"It's fine if you look inside my head. But I should tell you up front, I've done some things that I'm ashamed of today. Maybe they were necessary. I don't know. Haven't sorted that out just yet." Then, noticing how Twilight Velvet stared at him, he asked, "Are you upset, Mrs. Velvet?" 

"On the contrary," she replied. "I'm very proud of you." 

"That's uh, uh, uh… well, that's a relief, actually." 

"Really, I am. What you did just now was admirable." 

"Why, thank you, I guess?" 

She picked up her pen and replied, "Things will work out one way or another." Then, she turned around and resumed her writing. 

At first, Sundance felt nothing, but then there was something. He thought about his psychic awakening, and then, for the very first time since his return home, he wondered if his crystal tree had changed. Like a foal at Hearth's Warming, he was eager to discover if anything had changed, but that would have to wait. Right now, things still had to be sorted out. There was a shadow in his mind, and he did nothing to hide from it. 

"Boss… there's something you should know…" 

"What's that, Wormwood?" 

"Sundance sees everything, and his eyes picked up a lot of details. But that's not what you should know, Boss." 

"Wormwood, would you please just get to it?" 

"He threatened to stuff a mare's head up another pony's"—there was a brief pause—"wazoo." 

"The wazoo you say." 

"Yeah, Boss. The wazoo. And worse, he meant it. Deep within his psyche, he meant it." 

"Duly noted, Wormwood." 

The draconic pegasus smirked. "You bluffed your way out. That's impressive for a pony that's never really done that before. I'd imagine that you looked pretty convincing. I mean, that filly just chomped down on your leg… and you didn't even drop to the floor. Most ponies would have been on the floor bawling from that. I'm impressed." 

"Um, thank you?" 

"Pegasus ponies are creatures of immense perception," Wormwood said as his eyes glazed over. "Most of the time, they're not even aware of all the details they take in. Boss, we have a lot to sort though. A lot to work with. The Night Lady will want to see this." 

"All in good time, Wormwood. All in good time." 

"They threatened to take him hostage, Boss." 

"Juicy," Twilight Velvet replied as her pen scratched away. 

"And they threatened to wipe his mind." 

"Juicier. Technically, we don't even need Sparrowhawk now, but she'll be the icing on the cake. If she consents." 

Breathing through his nose, Sundance sipped from the cup of tea held between his front hooves. 

"A lot of ponies are missing ears," Wormwood remarked. 

"Careful," Sundance said as tea dribbled down his lip, "she bites."