//------------------------------//
// The History Lesson 
// Story: Nightmares Yet to Come 
// by Detectivefish 
//------------------------------//

Thesis found herself waking to a strange smell, evidently coming from downstairs. It took a moment before she remembered that it was a weekend. Her first weekend. Okay, yes, she’d been through several weekends before, but this was the first real weekend. She was no longer at school, which made it feel entirely different.

As she made her way across the landing to the bathroom, she could’ve sworn she heard noise from the kitchen, which she couldn’t make out, but which sounded like Midnight.

Carefully, she made her way slowly down the stairs, trying not to be heard. As she did, she made out what it was her sister was doing.
She was making breakfast, and as she was, she was humming something to herself. No, more than humming. She was singing. Quietly, and whatever it was she couldn’t make out, but she was definitely singing.
"Shake your tail,
Shake your tail..."

Then she turned around and noticed Thesis. In the several seconds that followed, her expression changed.

“Thesis.” She exclaimed, apparently caught off-guard, forgetting what she was meant to be doing. There was a clattering of dishes and cutlery.

“Er.” Midnight declared, “ah… damn.”

After a moment, she seemed to collect herself, the surprised expression disappearing beneath her more familiar lack of expression. “Good morning.” She said, as if nothing had just happened.

“Hi.” Thesis said, carefully.

“Would you care for some breakfast?” Midnight looked back to what was left of the sink.
Breakfast, as it turned out, was nothing more fancy than toast, but Thesis wasn’t about to complain. Though she was getting bothered by the cold coming in through the still broken main window. The curtain had been drawn to try and keep it out, but there was a breeze coming in.

As she was halfway through her third slice of toast, she saw Midnight’s ears twitching, and the mare began to frown. Before she could ask what was wrong, she heard the voice, coming through the front window (or what was left of it).

“You sure this is the house?” she heard somepony outside say.

“I think so.” That sounded like Snails.

“Maybe we could knock?” That was definitely Sweetie Belle. Nopony else’s voice was as squeaky as that.

“You knock!” And that was Rumble, if she had to guess.

As Thesis watched, Midnight got up and walked towards the door.





Somehow, and he wasn’t really sure how himself, Snails had been volunteered to knock on the door. But before he could, the door opened.
There was a terrified squeak from Sweetie Belle, and he felt himself take a step back at the sight of the mare looking at him. There was something about her which, though he couldn’t put a hoof on it, just felt wrong. Looking into her eyes, he had a strange feeling, like he knew exactly what it felt like for any insect that had ever been at the bottom of a bell jar as a scientist stared at them.

“Yes?” the mare intoned. “I take it you’re here to talk to Thesis.”

Snails tried to say something, but his throat suddenly felt incredibly dry. “Y’s.” he barely managed to get out.

The scary mare disappeared into the house, and soon enough Thesis appeared.

“Hey,” Snails said. He noticed his voice still sounded a little off, and so he coughed to try and it get back under control. “We were going to hang out today. Want to come with?”

Thesis frowned, and looked back toward her sister.

“Go on,” Snails heard her say, “go spend time with your friends.”

“What are you going to do?” Thesis asked.

“I have to wait for the window repair pony.” Midnight responded. “Nothing particularly exciting, little one. Now, go. Enjoy your weekend.”





In the Whitetail Woods, there stood a curious anomaly of geography. It was simultaneously an island in the southern oceans, a vast mountain fortress, a secret volcano lair, a seedy trading port where the worst rogues and ne’er-do-wells gathered, and Canterlot Castle itself.
Alternatively, it was just a very big tree favoured by the foals of Ponyville, which had grown in such a way as to make it easy to climb and turned it into a natural fort, which had earned it the name of the Castle Tree.

Presently, it was surrounded by a gathering of foals, almost all of whom were decked out in cloaks, hats or scarves to keep out the stronger-than-usual winter chill. The only concession Thesis had to the cold was a small scarf, one of the gifts she’d received for Hearth’s Warming, but she had to admit she hadn’t been feeling the cold that much to begin with.

She looked about at the gathering of ponies present, and frowned. Something seemed amiss. For one, there were a lot less ponies than usual.

“Where is everypony?” she asked.

“Tootsie’s parents wouldn’t let her come out for some reason.” Snails frowned.
“Maybe because of last night?” Scootaloo suggested. Snails’ frown deepened.

“Huh. Didn’t think of that.” He admitted. Thesis tried not to say anything, but she did feel a little relief. Tootsie could sometimes be a little too smart sometimes, and it was already getting annoying. Not that Dinky couldn’t be the same sometimes, but with Tootsie, there was just… something about the way she did it that annoyed her. With Dinky, when she helped you it felt like she was genuinely trying to help (even if maybe you hadn't actually asked for help), while Tootsie, friendly though she was, was surprised and irritated you didn’t get it to begin with.

“What happened?” a blue unicorn Thesis didn’t recognise, who’d been staying close to Snails the whole time, asked.

“Some ponies showed up and started smashing stuff.” Scootaloo said with a shrug.

“Trixie stopped them.” Snails added, in a way that suggested to his mind, there wasn’t much reason to doubt this.

“Is that why your window got smashed up?” Scootaloo asked Thesis. She nodded.

“Maybe Tootsie’s parents just wouldn’t let her out because it’s so cold?” Truffle Shuffle suggested, but he didn’t sound convinced about that for some reason.

“It’s not that cold.” Scootaloo scoffed.

“For you, maybe.” The bundle of wool that was, in fact, a cunningly disguised Sweetie Belle responded. “You’re a pegasus.”

“I have an idea.” Pipsqueak spoke up. “Why don’t we do something to warm ourselves up?”

Scootaloo stared dangerous at Pipsqueak. “You’re not going to suggest something with pirates, are ya?”
Pipsqueak suddenly made a face, and found it difficult to look at Scootaloo. “… no?” he eventually managed. Scootaloo scoffed.

“Yeah, you were!” She said, “you’re always wanting to play pirate.”

“I like pirates.” Pipsqueak muttered.
“And I like my scooter, doesn’t mean I take it everywhere.”

“Only because your dad doesn’t let you.” Sweetie Belle helpfully supplied.

“Don’t see what’s wrong with pirates.” Pipsqueak continued, mostly to himself.

“Hey, how long’s it been since I crashed it?” Scootaloo’s wings flared defensively.

“We could have a snowball fight?” Snips suggested.
Everypony looked around. Despite the amount of snow that had been around during the week, there was almost none around now, save a few slops dropping off the branches of the trees around them, as if the very act of being looked at by a foal had been the last straw for them.

“Yeah…” Snails rubbed a hoof against the back of his head. “I think my sis said they were gonna resurface the snow at some point…” he looked up at the sky, which was presently almost entirely cloudless.

“-Didn’t hear anypony complaining about the treasure hunt.”

Scootaloo snorted. “This’d be easier if Dinky were here. She’s usually got an idea.”

Snails looked at Snips. Snips looked at Scootaloo, who looked at Rumble, who looked at Thesis, who had no idea why Rumble was looking at her, what Pipsqueak was going on about, or why nopony else seemed to be able to say anything.

Finally, Rumble spoke up. “Maybe…” he began, with the tone of a pony who knew what was coming, but there was no other option available, “we could play pirates.”
Suddenly, Pipsqueak’s muttering stopped, and he looked up, smiling.

“Really?” he asked.

There was a moment of silence, before Sweetie Belle nudged Scootaloo with a hoof.

“It’s been a while.” The orange pegasus declared, her voice almost completely flat.

“Alright.” Pipsqueak said, “if you really want to.”

Thesis was impressed, and more than a little confused, by Pipsqueak’s sudden recovery, but it all seemed to be good, as the tiny colt grinned. She began to wonder if he really had been as upset as he’d looked after all.

“So who’s doing what?” Rumble asked.

“I’ve got an idea.” Pipsqueak said, “there was this time I read about involving Princess Cadenza and these pirates…”

“Princess Cadenza?” Scootaloo repeated. “Really?”

“It’s better than it sounds…” Pipsqueak said. “And there might be sword fights.”

“I’m in.” Scootaloo said instantly.

“So, who’s going to play Cadenza?” Sweetie Belle asked. Suddenly everypony (well, almost everypony. Mystery Blue took a moment to catch on) was staring at Thesis.

“Me?” she asked.

“You, uh,” Snips began, his cheeks turning red as he rubbed his hoof against the back of his head. “You are an alicorn.”

This was something Thesis couldn’t exactly deny. “But I don’t know what Cadenza is like. I’ve only met Princess Luna.”

“You don’t have to be like Princess Luna.” Sweetie Belle said. “Just act… y’know…”

“Like a Princess?” Rumble volunteered.

“Yeah. Like a Princess.”

Thesis frowned. Like a princess, she thought to herself. Act scary, she thought.

“I can do that.” She tried. “I think. But what does a Princess do?”

“Princess stuff.” Scootaloo supplied, “duh.”

“Don’t worry,” Sweetie Belle said, smiling gently. “Pipsqueak will tell you when you’re doing something wrong.”
“Hey!”

“So,” Rumble coughed, “who’s playing who now?”
Pipsqueak turned toward the Pegasus colt, and puffed up his chest. “It’s the Cavallian navy versus Black Flag, one of the most successful pirates that ever was.”

He continued on, but Thesis wasn’t entirely listening, still trying to think how she was supposed to be like a Princess. Trixie probably knew, she told herself.





“Where is everypony?” Carrot Top asked.
Trixie shook her head. The two were sitting at a table in one of Ponyville’s few restaurants, indoors due to the weather, which was a shame since the cold aside it actually looked like a nice day. There wasn’t even a crazy pony in sight.

“Well, Raindrops was supposed to be here, but she’s sleeping in, and I don’t want to bother her.” Also, she was slightly concerned that if she stopped by to visit, Raindrops’ parents, or more specifically her mother, wouldn’t let her leave without a fight. “Ditzy is having a day off with Dinky, Lyra’s probably still asleep, and Cheerilee… I think she’s helping fix up the Punch Bowl after last night.”

“Sorry about that.” Carrot Top murmured sheepishly, for the dozenth time. “If I had known… I should’ve been there to help. I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”

“It’s not a problem.” Trixie said quickly. “We took those crazies down before anything got too badly damaged.”

She’d already tried pointing out she wasn’t holding any grievance against Carrot for not knowing. After all, Ditzy had abstained as well, and she wasn’t hounding her for it. But that wasn’t stopping Carrot.

“Except your head.” Carrot Top smiled. Trixie rubbed a hoof against the side of her head, even though it’d been hours since she’d actually felt any headaches (though she wasn’t going to deny her dreams during the night had been plain weird, even for her).

“Except my head.” She groaned. “And the Punch Bowl. And a couple of walls and windows and a fence. But we got them.”

Carrot Top looked surprised. “You mean they didn’t get away?”

Trixie grinned triumphantly. “Nope. Got ‘em all, locked them up, and they got taken away on a train. They’re Luna’s problem now.”

Carrot Top began to smile a nervous smile. “That feels weird, bad guys actually getting caught for once.”

Trixie’s grin faltered just a little. “Maybe we’re just getting better at this hero stuff.”

“If you say so.”

The yellow carrot farmer drummed a hoof against the table. “Wait, are you only having lunch with me because none of the others were available?”

“What?” Trixie gasped, “come on, Carrot, you know that’s not true.”

After a moment, Carrot Top began to grin back at her. “Gotcha.”

Trixie tried frowning at Carrot Top, but she wasn’t able to maintain it for very long, though this might have had something to do with their starters arriving.

“By the way,” Carrot said, before she began eating, “was that a Shadowbolt I saw going toward the library?”

“Huh?”





The Shadowbolts had a reputation as shadowy enforcers of Princess Luna’s will, committing all manner of unspeakable things in her name. This was in many ways a disservice to ponies who were, by and large, just ordinary government workers, though admittedly the form-fitting purple uniforms and golden goggles their field agents all wore did tend to make them look more sinister than was possibly necessary.

The pony who had arrived at the library, who had informed Twilight her name was Indigo Zap, didn’t quite match what Twilight had heretofore presumed the typical image of a Shadowbolt agent, between the large pompadour of hair, and the surprisingly casual attitude (which was reminding her of somepony, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall who), though most of the Shadowbolt agents she’d met had been trying to arrest her at the time, and the only one she’d been in regular contact with at any point was Agent Haymaker (and she had a suspicion he was a serious pony anyway. Or he just really hadn’t liked Trixie’s attempts to break the ice between them.)

She might also have been slightly more focused on what Agent Zap had brought to her, which was a thinking problem.

“Speaking modestly,” she began, “I’m one of the foremost experts on teleportation magic in Equestria. But this...”
She frowned. “A whole train carriage. The energy requirements for that would be phenomenal. Even I couldn’t teleport something that size very far. About the only ponies who could do something like that would be the Princesses.”

There was a careful pause, as Twilight could’ve sworn Agent Zap was giving her a look. (Well, she was looking at her, but the mare’s expression was pretty neutral at the moment.) Inwardly, she was both alarmed and more than a little intrigued by the problem. “Though I don’t know if that applies to Princess Cadenza.”

After another pause, she felt the need to add “and I was here in the library all last night.”

“Well, Miss Sparkle-” Agent Zap began.

“Oh, please, call me Twilight.” Twilight smiled. Just because things with Agent Haymaker hadn’t gone very well was no excuse not to at least try to be friendly with Agent Zap. It seemed to be a success, given the pegasus mare didn’t frown. Twilight decided to give that a tentative check in her mind’s checklist.

“Twilight,” the mare said carefully, “my boss isn’t worried so much about who right now. But she was wondering if you could work out how far they could’ve taken it. And you’re apparently the expert on teleportation magic. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
Twilight stared for a moment, and looked about the main room of the library. Already gears were beginning to tick away inside her brain.

“Just give me a moment.” She said. Her horn flared up, and she teleported down into the library’s basement, recovered the chalkboard she had stored down there, and returned with it to the main room.

“Okay,” she murmured to herself, Agent Zap largely forgotten, the chalk beginning to fly across the board as she began calculating.

“Well, assuming a pony with the same level of magic power as me, hypothetically speaking of course,” she quickly interjected, “combined with the size of the train carriage mixed with…” she hummed. “I think I have a reasonable outline for your search parameters.”

She took a look at Agent Zap, who was staring at the board, and a thought occurred to her. “Er,” she said, “if you like, I could try and simplify my works a little, if your superior needs it.”

“Nah,” Zap said, “I get it. Well, most of it. I’m not an expert on teleportation magic. But I got the gist.”

“Really?” Twilight asked, before catching herself. “Sorry, I suppose I’ve just gotten used to ponies not knowing what I’m talking about.”
Mercifully, the Shadowbolt didn’t seem offended by that.

“I know some fast speakers.” She grinned. “And the Shadowbolts don’t usually hire idiots. And it’s not the first time I’ve heard somepony explain teleportation magic. That helps.”

“Oh.” Twilight said. That made sense to her, at least. After a moment looking for some parchment and a quill, she began taking down her notes, trying to make them as legible and coherent to the laypony as she could manage. After a moment’s thought, she decided to simplify a little further, just in case.

“By the way,” she said, as she wrote, “how is Agent Haymaker? I haven’t seen him in some time.”

“No idea.” Zap said, from where she was idly investigating the shelves. “Sorry. I don’t know the guy.”

Twilight hummed, as she rolled up the prepared parchments. “Well,” she said cheerfully, “I hope this helps, at any rate.”

“That’s the idea.” Agent Zap said, as she took them from Twilight. “Thanks for the assistance, Miss Twilight.”

“If there’s anything else I can do,” Twilight began, “I’m always willing to help. I mean, I’m not exactly going anywhere because I’m under house arrest, but-” she stopped herself there, but Agent Zap seemed more bemused than anything.
“Guessing you didn’t get out much even before then, huh?”

Twilight grinned sheepishly. Technically, in her travels across Equestria, she had spent a lot of time outside, either just because she was travelling or when she was practicing her spells, but none of that had involved much interaction with other ponies, which she guessed was what the agent meant. And true, there had been several ponies already who’d come to visit her, but it was clearly obvious she still had much to learn. And practice made perfect.

“Not as such, no…”





Thesis trotted along the streets of Ponyville, taking a glimpse up at the sky, where the town’s weather patrol were moving dark looking clouds across the sky, visible thanks to the bright orange jackets they were wearing as they worked.

She was surprised at how late it was, but despite everypony’s misgivings, playing pirate versus princess had been a lot of fun. So much fun that they hadn’t noticed the time, until somepony had pointed out it was starting to get dark. Then it had taken some time to argue with Pipsqueak about wrapping everything up (and some time more to convince him this did not, in fact, count as mutiny. Thesis wasn’t entirely sure what being “keel hauled” meant, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out).

She was pretty sure she’d had fun, despite as it turned out Princess Cadenza didn’t have much to do. Every time she tried to do something, Black Flag had thought of some countermeasure, despite being an earth pony pirate, or there was some reason she couldn’t do anything, like just zap Pipsqueak with alicorn magic then and there (though she did have to admit just ending it instantly wouldn’t have been much fun. That she didn’t know any alicorn magic was just a minor problem).

She soon got close to the house, and noticed the front window had been replaced. When she got to the door, Midnight opened it before she had a chance to knock.

“And how was today?” her sister asked, as Thesis sat near the fire. She wasn’t cold as such, but it was a nice warm fire.

“Good.” Thesis said, and began telling her about the epic battle between Black Flag’s fleet and Princess Cadenza’s, once she’d realized the pirate pony would never change his ways (or more accurately, once Pipsqueak had told her she was supposed to try and get him to surrender first, rather than just sink his ships then and there).

“Black Flag?” Midnight asked, on hearing the name.

“You’ve heard of him?”

“I’ve heard of her, yes.” Her sister said, and she stared off into the distance. “‘For I hav’ dipped these hooves in muddied waters, and withdrawing them find ‘tis better to be a criminal than a common pony.’”
“Yeah.” Thesis nodded, “Pipsqueak gave a speech like that.”

It had been an impressive speech, despite Pipsqueak’s voice slightly ruining the effect (especially when his voice actually had squeaked). He’d gotten very into it, though, which nopony else had seemed at all surprised by.

“There’s a book, 'The Most Notorious History of Pirates'. It covers her extensively.” Midnight stated. “And her unusual relationship with Princess Cadenza.”

“I had to play Cadenza.” Thesis informed her. Midnight looked at her for a moment.

“Did you now?” she remarked, and Thesis could’ve sworn there was some strange edge to her voice.

“Yeah. It was interesting. Especially when I had to fight the kraken.” Midnight turned to look at her, and arched an eyebrow.

“The kraken?” she asked. “I don’t recall any kraken.”

“Apparently Black Flag had one.” Thesis explained, “specially trained for fighting Princesses.”

“I see.” Midnight said. Thesis wasn’t really sure how, since she didn’t know how that made sense, and she’d been there when Pipsqueak had explained it to her. It had been a very good explanation at the time, she knew that much, but now she couldn’t even remember what it was.

Of course, there hadn’t been a real kraken, or even an illusion of a kraken, especially since Ponyville was very far in-land, just some ropes that Pipsqueak had insisted (several times) were actually the great and terrible tentacles of the sea-beast. She decided not to mention the fact Pipsqueak had paused for a very long time when describing how things went down between Black Flag and the Princess, and the odd way some of the others had chuckled, like there was some joke she hadn’t been in on. Even weirder was the fact Pipsqueak had started blushing and looking about nervously at one point, as if expecting something to jump out of the trees and eat him. She wondered whether it was worth asking Midnight about that.

“Do you know what happened to Black Flag, in the end?” she asked. The game had wrapped up with Cadenza about to fight the pirate lord (or queen, she guessed), vowing to take him (or her, or whatever) to stand trial, as opposed to Thesis’s idea of just getting rid of him then and there.

“As I recall, she and what little was left of her crew were arrested by Cadenza, and she spent the remainder of her life in a Cavallian prison.” Midnight said, in-between sips of her drink.

“Oh.” Thesis murmured. That didn’t sound tremendously fun to her.

“‘A merry life and a short one be my motto’.” Midnight said, her voice momentarily taking on a strange lilt. “Well, she succeeded in the later part, certainly. Curiously, Princess Cadenza has never spoken publicly on the matter of Black Flag, even though it’s on record that she frequently visited the mare in prison.”
“Why?”

“No-one knows, save Cadenza herself.” Midnight said, “though there have been those who have speculated, and in some cases profited greatly from that speculation. Especially novelists.”

Thesis thought about that for a moment. Maybe that explained the funny way the others, and Pipsqueak in particular, had been acting.
Then her stomach rumbled.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked, all thoughts of pirates and princesses forgotten.

Dinner, as it turned out, involved something odd and green looking. Thesis sniffed at it apprehensively, and found it didn’t smell bad. After several seconds, she took an equally apprehensive bite of it.

“Well?” Midnight asked.

“It’s…” Thesis chewed carefully on the strange, leafy matter. “It’s… it’s slimy.”

“And what is our opinion of slime?”

Thesis took several more chews. “Can I have some more?”
“Very well. More spinach it is.”

As her sister fetched more of the strange, slimy vegetables, Thesis wondered whether to ask her about a question that had been bothering her.

She decided she’d wait a while.





The sun almost entirely down, and the blue and red foal known to the foals of Ponyville as Sprite was making her way home. For Sprite, or as she was actually known, Ocellus, home was a small cave she’d made for herself on the edge of the Everfree.

It had been an odd day, meeting that alicorn foal. She’d been able to scrounge a few good scraps of love when nopony had been looking, mostly from Pipsqueak. The only thing that was bothering her was that Thesis, and the way Snails had been about her.
She knew, thanks to her changeling senses, that there was nothing to be afraid of. Snails didn’t care about her in any way beyond friendship, and the same applied in reverse with Thesis. But there was still something about the way he looked at her that made Ocellus angry anyway, much like when that other foal, Alula was around.

So busy was Ocellus with thinking about this it took her a moment to realize she suddenly couldn’t move. It felt like her hooves were stuck to something. She looked down to see something glowing softly orange in the dark. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel like mud, or any sort of secretion she could think of. It didn’t feel sticky, or slimy or warm or cold. It didn’t feel of anything at all.

Ocellus was no stranger to the Everfree Forest, and was very much aware of the creatures that dwelled in it. Technically, she was one of them. This meant she very much didn’t want to be standing in what had all the earmarks of a trap. A well-made, magical trap, which no creature could’ve made, and certainly none she’d so far encountered. She was also becoming aware of just how quiet it was, which in the Everfree was never a good sign.

Eventually, she heard a sound behind her, and a humming noise. Someone was behind her. After a few minutes more there was a strange popping sound.

“Well.” She heard someone else say, “I see what you mean.”

“Um,” Ocellus called out, “can you help me? I’m stuck in s-”

“Stuck in a trap.” The second voice said. It didn’t sound friendly.

“Please, I’m just a foal.”

“If you were just a foal, this spell wouldn’t have activated. If you were just a pony, it wouldn’t have activated. I know what you are. You’re a changeling.”

Ocellus could’ve sworn she felt the temperature shift. “You… know what changelings are?”

“Oh, yes.” The voice said. There was a definite undercurrent of anger to it there. She recalled her experience meeting the foals of Ponyville, when she’d tried to feed on them, and how they’d reacted. They’d been angry, and they’d very nearly killed her. This voice sounded like it belonged to an adult. Had somepony in Ponyville worked out what she was? What she had been doing? Was this their revenge? No, that couldn’t be.

“What are we gonna do to her, boss?” the first voice asked. That was definitely a mare’s voice, but not one she recognised, so there was no chance of playing to their belief she was just an innocent foal who’d gone astray.

“We’re not going to kill her.” The second voice said. Ocellus tried not to sigh.

“I didn’t say-”
“I know what you didn’t say.” The second snapped, and Ocellus could feel a burst of anger coming from behind her (and a curious vague smell of something burning). “You were very empathically not saying it.”

There was a horrible, all-consuming silence.

“This trap wasn’t meant for you.” The second voice said to Ocellus. It didn’t sound hostile, but it didn’t sound friendly either. She blinked in confusion. If it wasn’t meant for her, how had it known to trap Changelings? Was her mystery host out for other Changelings? Were there other Changelings in Ponyville she somehow hadn’t noticed?

“It’s just dumb luck you walked into it tonight.”

“Good thing she didn’t do it when there were other foals around.” The mare said.

“So…” Ocellus asked, “are you going to let me go?”

There was another silence. It wasn’t very encouraging.

“I’ve seen her hanging around with Rainy’s little brother.” The mare said.

“Snails would notice if his friend went missing, wouldn’t he?” The other one said. “And knowing the foals of Ponyville, he’d go looking for her.”

“Y-yeah.” Ocellus said. “Snails knows all about me.”

“Makes sense. Kid loves bugs.”

“I’m not a bug!” Ocellus yelled.

“He’d go looking. Probably get into trouble. And goodness knows how Rainy would take that, but…”
There was a murmur from the other voice.

“Well, fortunately I can reconfigure this trap so this embarrassing little detail won’t happen again, now that I have your thaumatological signature. However, that does leave one important little wrinkle… your silence.”

“I won’t tell anypony about this.” She said, looking around desperately, as much as was possible.

“Oh, undeniably, it would be difficult for you to tell anyone about this encounter without them asking a few questions. Like why this trap works on you, and not the other foals of Ponyville. But Snails knows of you, and all it would take is for you to mention it to him…” the voice was silent for a moment. There was the sound of hoofsteps, and Ocellus smelled anger in the air. Raw, vicious anger, and hatred. She couldn’t see the source, but they were right in front of her. But what was most curious is that the anger wasn’t directed at her. The scent was all wrong.

Then she saw the bright orange glow of a horn lighting up, so brightly it was impossible to s-





Ocellus stumbled. She looked around to see what it was that had caused that, but there was nothing, not a rock or protruding branch or even a stray hole in the ground.
She shook her head. She suddenly couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking about. Something to do with Snips, she thought.
Whatever it was, she decided, it couldn’t have been that important if she’d forgotten so quickly, so she resumed her pace back to her den.
She was probably just tired, she told herself. It would’ve explained why her head was suddenly hurting.





Dinner and then desert came and went, and Thesis hadn’t worked up the energy to ask Midnight the question she’d wanted to ask. Every time she thought she had worked up the courage, another nagging thought came to her and she suddenly didn’t want to. So, instead, she felt it safer to try a different, slightly less important question.

“What did those ponies from last night even want?”

Midnight set down the book she’d been reading and frowned. “I can only speculate,” she said, “but if I had to guess, they were trying to recreate Tirek.”

“And that’s bad, right?” Thesis asked. She’d read through the book on Equestrian legends a few times. None of the things about Tirek had sounded nice. Midnight gave her an odd look.

“You recall those stories you read about golems, little one?” Thesis nodded, uncertainly.

“What is a common thread of those stories?”

“Golems smash things a lot?”

Midnight paused before she responded. “Yes,” she said carefully, “but more than that. Why do the golems do that?”

Thesis thought about the question. Evidently, she took too long, as Midnight felt the need to explain.

“You have heard the expression be careful what you wish for, yes?”

Thesis nodded.

“Those who made those golems never considered what they were creating. They get what they wish for, without thinking about the specifics, or what happens after. Suppose you were a pony looking to revive Tirek. Or summon him, recreate him, free him, what have you. And you succeed in calling upon the the Liar, the Thief, Tyrant in the Pit, the Shadow in the Soul and Lord of All Sorrows. What do you think is likely to happen? Do you think someone with those epithets is likely to be grateful?”

For some reason, she found herself thinking of what had happened a few days ago in school, when Silver Spoon had said something to Diamond Tiara during class, and in response the pink filly had snapped at her, which had struck Thesis as incredibly odd, given Diamond and Silver Spoon were supposed to be friends, even more so given Diamond had been generally nice to her when they talked. And then Miss Cheerilee had been upset with Diamond as well.

“No?” Thesis hazarded.

“Indeed.”

“So why would they do it?” she asked.

“Madness. Greed. Desperation.” Midnight paused. “Sheer stupidity, sometimes. And any combination thereof.”

She paused again. “As another example, you yourself.”

“Me?” Thesis blinked in confusion.

“The ponies who abducted Lulamoon and Sparkle that night were likely trying to create an alicorn, before their ritual was interrupted.”

Thesis was able to see where that led. “And they got me.”

Midnight gave her another odd look. “Yes.” She could’ve sworn she saw the mare start to smile, just the tiniest fraction. “Not exactly what they were hoping for, I would say.”

Now she actually did look amused, but for some reason it just didn’t look right to Thesis. And she didn’t see what exactly was so funny anyway. “But, that’s a constant.”

Thesis frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Unintended consequences. Misdeeds almost always seem to have some ultimately beneficial effect. Celestia’s freedom allowed Lulamoon and the Element Bearers to restore the Elements of Harmony. Duke Greengrass’s attempt to ruin Octavia Philharmonica resulted in the creation of one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever made. Even Celestia’s fall helped created Princess Cadenza, in its way.”

Thesis gave this some thought. “So… those crazy ponies running around town and smashing things was… good?”

Midnight’s smile faded. There was a long time before she said anything. “Maybe, though I highly doubt most of the ponies of Ponyville would agree at the moment. It’ll probably make sense in the end.”

Thesis didn’t feel entirely reassured by that. Certainly it didn’t seem good to her, much less a pony who’d taken a nasty spell to the face, and she remained uneasy for the remainder of the night, even when she went to bed.





The next day came and went with little to do. It seemed the weather was too cold for the other foals of Ponyville to want to go out and play, so that left sitting inside for most of the day (the suggestion of attending to some small homework left lying about did not go down well).

Thesis couldn’t help but feel some unfairness in her first weekend passing so quickly, but her sister was less than supportive on that score. The question she’d been thinking of asking remained in the back of her head that day, and as she got up on Monday morning, and all the way through school.

It was at dinner, as Midnight silently prepared something, and Thesis (with no small reluctance) worked on that night’s homework that finally the question boiled over.

“Hey,” she called out, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Midnight said, not looking up from the vegetables she was chopping. “What is it?”

“Well…” Thesis frowned. For some reason the idea of actually saying what she wanted to say seemed silly. “It’s just…”

She found herself biting her lip. Now Midnight seemed to notice, and turned around to look at her, but this just made the prospect seem scarier.

“What is it?”

“Is it okay if I…” she squirmed, and when she spoke again it was still a struggle just to get the words out at all. “If I could change my name?”

Her sister stared at her for a very long time, or at least what felt like a long time. She tried meeting it, but every time she did it felt impossible, even though she didn’t look particularly angry or offended, just… well, her usual calm.

“I see.” Midnight finally said.

“I just…” Thesis found her wings fluttering. “I don’t like my name.”

Midnight continued staring at her. After a few seconds, the silence got to be too much for her. “Are you okay?”

“Certainly.” Midnight said. “I’m simply the pony who named you. And only because I shot down every alternative everypony else in the room offered.”
“So… you’re not mad?”

“Not at all.” She said. “I can understand the reasoning. And it’s not uncommon for ponies to change their names.” She paused. “Though admittedly, the renaming usually comes with the acquisition of one’s Cutie Mark.”

Thesis grinned. She wasn’t mad. She’d been worried about nothing at all. She hurried over to the small set of saddlebags she’d left by the front door, and got out a small piece of parchment she’d left in there, bringing it back to the kitchen table.

“Would I be correct in assuming this is a list of potential names?”

“Maybe.” Thesis murmured. There was another odd look on her sister’s face.

“What?” she asked.

“Making a list, definitely Sparkle’s influence.”

“It’s only one or two names.” She managed to get out, nudging the rolled up paper across the table. She had been planning on going to the library to look for a book on names.

“I cannot help but notice most of these are the names put forward on that night.” Midnight noticed. Thesis shrugged at that.  It had seemed like a good place to start. Midnight’s eyes scrolled downward.

“‘Midnight?’” she gave Thesis an odd look.

“Well, you are my sister. Shouldn’t we share a name?”

“Apart from anything else, that would get tremendously confusing very quickly.” Her sister said. Her eyes went back to the paper again. Inwardly, Thesis felt a small stab of relief. Midnight Thesis just sounded stupid. But she didn't know if it was confusing. There were two ponies in town called Green Grape and Green Grapes, and nopony ever seemed to have trouble telling them apart.

“Starlight?” Midnight asked.

“Not good?”

“I…” Midnight frowned. “I know of a Starlight. And while confusing you and her would be quite the stretch, best not to risk it.”

“What about the others?” Thesis ventured.

“Stardust…” Midnight said, her frown increasing. “I knew a pony called Stardust once, a long time ago.”
She was staring, but not at Thesis. She looked like she was thinking about something.

“What happened?”
It took a moment before Midnight responded. “We… had a falling out.”

“Like what happened with Trixie?”
Midnight’s mouth twitched. “Worse. Far worse.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Thesis looked toward the list again. It was starting to feel like the visit to the library was going to be necessary.

Then she saw the look on Midnight’s face change. “Aurora?”

Thesis felt her wings flap apologetically. “I dunno. It just came to me. Liked the sound of it.”
“From the ancient pegasus word for dawn.” Midnight said, apparently more to herself than to Thesis. But Thesis noted she wasn’t rejecting it, which seemed like a good sign. “Twinkle?”

“Twilight thought it was a good name.” Thesis said, feeling at this point her list of names needed defending.

Midnight’s lips pursed at that. “Her grandmother’s name. And an unfortunate one.”

“Why?”

Midnight tapped a hoof against the table. “It might be better if you were to ask Twilight Sparkle that. She would likely explain it better.”

“Maybe I will.” Thesis said.

She could’ve sworn she saw Midnight smile for a moment. “Really, though, it shouldn’t matter what somepony else says. The choice, ultimately, lies with you, and what sounds best to you, what fits you best.”

“Oh.” Thesis murmured.

“Meanwhile, what is not a choice is that you have homework to finish.”

“Do I have to?” she asked plaintively.

“So long as Dame Punch is your teacher, yes. There are many things I will do for you, little one. Explaining to that mare why you haven’t done homework is not one of them. Now get to it.”





Twilight Sparkle frowned. She was thinking about multiple things, such as the problem that Shadowbolt agent had posed to her only a few days before, which was still bothering her, alongside slightly less pressing issues such as the layout of the library, and the fact Shining hadn’t been responding to her letters of late. But mainly at the moment, she was thinking about Thesis.

She’d been surprised to see the foal enter the library alongside Dinky. Not that this was a surprise, Dinky always showed up on Tuesday, sometimes accompanied by some of the other foals of Ponyville, though today there was only Dinky and Sweetie Belle (which was confusing to Twilight, since she had a sign up both inside the library and outside for all to see, and she knew they knew about the magic lessons, but none of the three seemed to have any explanation to offer as to why nopony else had showed up, all the more odd since Tootsie Flute usually appeared more often than not, but none of them had any explanation for her absence). It was more seeing the little alicorn at all that surprised her. But for whatever reason, the foal didn’t seem very interested in learning. That reminded her just a little of Trixie, and the mare’s stubborn dismissal of reading books. Though the difference here was that while Thesis didn’t seem interested in learning magic, her gaze was drawn to the library’s books.

Twilight wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, both from the foal and from herself. But whatever it was, whether she’d been expecting her to act like Twilight or Trixie or that odd mare who’d “adopted” her, Thesis wasn’t it.
Something about that upset her, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

Technically speaking, from a certain point of view, the foal could have counted as her daughter, and she wasn’t sure how to think about that, beyond not wanting to think about the circumstances that led to her “birth”. She never really thought much about the idea of having foals anyway, what with her perennial lack of skill with them to begin with. And she supposed if she ever had a foal she’d have presumed they’d have turned out like her.

Regardless, Thesis went along with the lessons. Twilight wasn’t surprised to see she had some potential, if she thought so herself, though she kept a wary eye on the foal anyway. Ponyville’s foals had a knack for hidden surprises, not counting the very worrying Firelock, or Dinky’s oft-mentioned tendency to break things she was holding (which Twilight was relieved to note hadn’t happened so far under her watch), and she was watching for anything. In as much as a pony could watch for anything, that was.
Before coming to Ponyville, Twilight had felt the phrase “expect the unexpected” was both glib and amazingly unhelpful, but it was pretty appropriate for Ponyville all the same.

While the foals were going through their spells, Twilight walked between them, trying to offer the occasional suggestion for their techniques (far better than telling them, if it helped them to their own realisation). Thesis was doing quite well, all the more so given her extreme youth, but she seemed distracted by the books, a predicament Twilight could understand.

“Is something the matter?” Twilight asked. The foal squirmed, her wings flapping several times.

“Sorry,” she said, “I was just… looking at the books. And thinking about stuff.”

Twilight grinned good-naturedly, and she hoped reassuringly. “Well, they’re technically not what you’re here for, but I can understand wanting to read them. You do know you can take books out from the library, if you want. Was there any book in particular you were looking for?”

Thesis’s face scrunched up as she thought. “A book of names. Or an encyclopaedia.”

Twilight found herself raising an eyebrow. That definitely counted as a hidden surprise in her book, as it were. Still, the foal was asking, and how could she as a librarian deny her a chance to study something?

“Alright,” she said, “is there anything else you might like? You can take two books out with a temporary library card.” She added, to be helpful.

“Nope.” Thesis said instantly. Twilight found herself thinking back to many years ago, when a certain filly had whiled away her hours in the libraries of Latigo, and how her mother, father and brother had all had to explain to the librarians there that no, she had wanted to take out non-fiction books, particularly the big, dense tomes on magic meant for slightly older unicorns. Now she had an inkling as to how they had probably felt back then.

“I’ll just get you a form.” She said cheerfully, “in the meantime, just keep practicing your spellwork.”

It didn’t take long for Twilight to fetch the form, and present both it, an inkwell and a quill to Thesis, who quietly took it and began working.

“Um,” Thesis began as she wrote. Twilight wondered if she was going to ask about the section for her Cutie Mark. More than once, Twilight had asked a Ponyville foal looking for a card whether they’d needed help drawing their own, when the foal in question didn’t have theirs yet.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Twilight smiled.

“What can you tell me about Twilight Twinkle?”

Twilight looked down at the young face staring at her. In the silence, she was aware that Dinky and Sweetie Belle had stopped what they were doing.
“She was my grandmother.” Twilight said, carefully. “Well, one of them.”

Thesis cocked her head to side. “How many grandmothers do you have?” she asked.

“Three. There was my father’s mother, and then my mother’s mothers, Twilight Twinkle and Sparkling Sky, the Vicereines of Latigo.”

“Oh.” Thesis said. Twilight really hoped she didn’t ask how that worked, but fortunately for Twilight she did not. “My sister said there was a story about the name, but she wouldn’t explain why.”

Twilight was now aware all the foals present had in fact stopped practicing their magic and were looking at her. She bit her lip, considering her options.

“There is a story, of sorts.” She finally said.

“Can we hear it?” Dinky asked, with the cheerful innocence of foalhood.

“It’s not a bad story, is it?” Sweetie Belle chimed in.

“No… I mean, not exactly, but…”

“Is it a Night Court story?” There was a suspicious edge to Dinky’s voice, one Twilight suspected wouldn’t have been there if she was asking about outright criminals.

“Yes, at points.” There was a definite look of disapproval on Dinky’s face. However, there was still a look of curiosity in there, and Twilight doubted they were going to be satisfied with any attempt at waving them off now.

“Now, some backstory might be in order. My family, House Starlight is one of the oldest noble houses in Equestria, dating back to shortly after the fall of Corona. The title of viceroyalty has passed down through my mother’s family, and traditionally the inheritor of the title works and lives in Latigo, which sits on the borders of the Griffon Kingdoms. The current owner of the title is my mother, Twilight Velvet.”

Twilight paused, pondering whether it was worth mentioning her mother did little actual activity in the Night Court, generally leaving most of the work to her father Night Light while she occupied her time with other business in Latigo itself. She decided it was not.

“Several decades ago, there was an uprising in one of the Griffon Kingdoms. The brother of King Garovich tried to overthrow him, and he fled. My grandmother, Sparkling Sky, offered him protection and aid, even letting him stay in the family house. Unfortunately, she hadn’t actually asked her wife, Twilight Twinkle, the actual head of the house, about this before doing so.”

There were several intakes of breath at that. She was mildly surprised none of them had gasped. “Apparently what followed was some of the most vicious arguing they ever had, but eventually they agreed to help the king get his throne back, even trying to speak in his favour in the Night Court.” She sighed. “And when members of my family do something, they…” she was aware her cheeks were beginning to turn red, as she thought of her own actions when she’d first visited Ponyville, “we don’t go in for half measures.”

“You mean like when you first met Trixie?” Dinky asked.

“No. Worse.” She paused to cough. “Grandma Twinkle and Grandma Spark argued in the Night Court to support the king, but Princess Luna wouldn’t intervene.”

Dinky was scowling now, and Sweetie Belle looked alarmed.

“Why?” Thesis asked.

“I… don’t know.” Twilight lied. The reason the Princess hadn’t acted was while she was not unsympathetic to the king’s plight, she felt the usurper’s rule better suited Equestria’s own interests. “Unfortunately, Grandma Twinkle had something of a temper, and she… ah…”

“What?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“She may have criticised the Princess for it. To her face.”

“Uh-oh.” Dinky commented.

“That sums it up.” Twilight shook her head. “A vicereine commands a lot of power in the Night Court, second only to the Princess herself, but even the Princess’s indulgence has limits. My grandparents’ actions cost them a lot of their political reputation. And may have made things pretty tense between Grandma Twinkle and Grandma Spark for a long time.”

“Oh.” was all Thesis said.

“Guessing the Princess wasn’t happy, either.” Dinky added.

“No.” Twilight admitted. It had taken her grandparents and parents a long time and a great deal of work to recover a lot of the family’s political reputation, something she knew for a fact her parents had had very intense discussions about on more than one occasion, when they hadn’t realised she was listening.

Twilight tapped a hoof against her chin. “You know, a thought occurs, your… sister may have been talking about Clover the Clever’s daughter.”

She saw three fillies giving her a look of complete incomprehension. “Who?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Twilight sighed. “Never mind.”

“What did she do?” Thesis spoke up.

“Er.” Twilight began. “Not a lot, actually.”

Thesis pulled an irritated face at that.

“So what happened to the griffon king?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“He declared that even without Equestrian support he’d take his country back, but he never regained his throne. But his son did.”

“He’s not very fond of ponies, then.” Dinky observed.

“No. Not really.” Twilight admitted. She knew for a fact his kingdom was also where the famed Equestrian embassy had been placed, and that almost certainly didn’t help.

“And what about your grandmomma?” Dinky ventured.

“She continued to work in the Night Court, as did grandma, until she retired. She passed away when I was little.”

“Sorry.” Dinky said instantly.
Twilight smiled carefully. Knowing her grandmother, she’d have been more furious than either of her parents about the debacle with the Ursa Minor. And, knowing her, also probably would have complimented her at the same time, if only for not getting eaten. But at the same time, knowing her grandmother, she probably would’ve gotten on tremendously with Trixie regardless. The words “house on fire” came to mind. Particularly the parts involving fire, screaming and ponies running for safety.

“I see.” Thesis said, though she looked confused.

“Anyway,” Twilight declared, clapping her hooves together, “let’s get back to studying magic. Where were we?”





Trixie looked up from what she was doing, fixing Pokey with a hard stare.

“Pokey, you clearly want to ask me something. So just ask already.”

Pokey Pierce just stared back. “You’ve been smirking about something all day, and all of yesterday. I just figured you’d tell me sooner or later.”

Trixie decided not to notice the unspoken addition of “whether I ask or not” he was clearly fighting to say. But he was probably right.

“I just had this amusing idea.” She said.

Pokey sighed theatrically. “Uh-oh.”

“You know this pony I mentioned who’s been annoying me?”

Pokey made a show of looking forgetful. “You might’ve mentioned her.”

“Well, I had this idea of how to get back at her. Actually, I had two.”

Pokey pointedly did not make any sort of smart remark at that.

“The first was simply to tell Rarity there was a new pony in town from Canterlot.”

Pokey hissed. “That’s pretty fiendish, boss, setting Rarity on a pony.”

“Eh.” Trixie shrugged. Certainly, things had been more amicable between them of late, and especially since the Gala, thanks in no part to Rarity getting a chance to demonstrate her wares at the event (Trixie wasn’t sure she’d actually gotten more business, but then she’d also gotten good at tuning out most of what Rarity said). “I don’t think she’d ever actually succeed at doing anything. She’d just be persistently annoying.”

“And the second idea?” Pokey asked, with an undercurrent of dread. Trixie began grinning at the thought of what she’d done.

“I was thinking about the weather, and I remembered last year’s Winter Wrap Up.”

“The one you stormed out of?”

“Shut up. I was thinking about how Mayor Scrolls mentioned Ponyville’s never been on time with it-”

“I... don’t think that’s technically true.”

“Still shut up. So I thought what about suggesting to her that she get in contact with a pony who’s got experience organising vast amounts of ponies, see if she could help.”

Pokey paused. “So… you hope to get her forced into doing something that will end in failure and frustration, just to get back at her.”
“More or less, yeah.”

Pokey nodded at this. “That’s slightly petty. And a little evil.”

Trixie allowed her grin to grow. “I know, right?”

“Better than what I would’ve done, though.” Pokey said nonchalantly. Trixie nodded, and went back to what little work there was left to do (or more accurately, before it hit six o’clock and officially became tomorrow’s business).

Then there seemed to be a long moment where the only sounds Trixie could hear was the shuffle of paperwork, the tick of her clock, the occasional crackle from the fireplace, and Pokey very determinedly not saying anything at all.

“Pokey.” Trixie finally declared, “if I were to ask what you would have done, would it be with the understanding that you had not actually done this already?”

Pokey stared carefully at her, though Trixie saw his eyes dart toward the clock as well. “Maybe.”

Trixie sighed. “What did you do?”

Pokey mumbled something. Trixie smiled a thin smile.

“I didn’t quite catch that.” She said.

“I got one of our top ponies to look at her.”

Trixie felt something twitch. She wasn’t sure what entirely. She just hoped it wasn't a nerve frazzling. “We don’t have “top ponies”.” She said, before she shook her head. “Because we don’t have ponies of any kind. And there is no "we". What are you even talking about, Pokey?”
“I figured you might want somepony to keep an eye on her, so I… kind of, maybe, sort of asked Pinkie Pie to follow her.”

There was a very long time as Trixie absorbed this. “Okay…” she finally managed to say.

She had to at least admit it was a mildly cunning move. There was no way in Tartaros anypony would ever believe she’d hired Pinkie, much less to spy on anyone. Heck, even she wouldn’t believe it.





Twilight heard the chime of the library’s doorbell ringing, as a pony entered. Was it already finishing time? Things had flown past today. And she didn’t need to even look to see who it was, judging by the bright grin on Dinky’s face.

“Momma!” the filly exclaimed, her magical practice immediately forgotten in favour of rushing over to give her mother a hug. Twilight looked to Sweetie Belle and Thesis.

“Well, I suppose we can finish up slightly earlier than usual,” she quipped, looking to the nearby clock, which reliably informed her it was finishing time anyways.
“Hopefully, I’ll see you all here next week.” She said, trying not to sound too hopeful. Sweetie Belle flashed her an uncertain looking smile, and trotted over towards Ditzy. True, there hadn’t been as many foals showed up looking to learn as she would have liked, aside from Dinky, who always turned up, but she was willing to assume they might have been busy, or had maybe just forgotten. She made a note to herself to make another poster to try and solve that problem. Maybe a different font would do the trick, but that just raised the question of which font would work better. Sometimes she wished she had an assistant to help her, but there was only one pony in Ponyville she knew of who’d likely volunteer to be an assistant and… no, that wasn’t an option yet, she told herself. Her thoughts turned to that other universe’s Twilight Sparkle. She’d had her world’s Spike to help her, but according to Trixie nopony had seen or heard from Spike in months. In fact, as near as anyone could tell, she was the last pony to have had any contact with the little dragon.
Her attention returned to Thesis, who was examining the shelves carefully. She noticed Twilight was looking at her, and smiled uncertainly.

“Bye, Miss Twilight.” Dinky declared, waving as she did. Twilight waved back. As Ditzy turned to the door, it opened, and a newcomer entered the library.

Twilight was momentarily taken aback by the dark blue mare who entered. She frowned. She knew it would have happened sooner or later, but she was still surprised by the mystery mare. She just hoped their encounter went better than their first meeting.
Still, she told herself, that wasn’t her fault… for once.

“Oh,” she heard Ditzy exclaim, “excuse me.”

To the mare’s credit, she didn’t seem to notice Ditzy’s strabismus. But Ditzy was definitely staring at her in puzzlement.

“Sorry,” she said, “for a moment there…”

“Yes?” Midnight asked.

“I could’ve sworn you looked like… no matter.”

The mare’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Like whom?”

“Like… well, like Viceroy Night Light.”

Twilight frowned. So did Midnight. As she looked at the dark blue mare, she had to admit that at a surface glance, there was some vague similarity.

But then she dismissed it. Vague similarity didn’t mean anything. And besides, she knew what her dad looked like, and apart from being a blue unicorn, the mare didn’t look anything like him at all.

“Well done, Dame Doo.” Midnight said, dryly.

“For what?” the mailmare asked.

“Normally, most ponies require at least a minute, usually two, before they find a way to insult me.”

“She wasn’t trying to insult you!” Dinky piped up, scowling as furiously as she could manage (which, admittedly, wasn’t much, given her age and inherent Dinky-ness. It was like being scowled at by a kitten. Though from what Twilight had heard, if and when Dinky did get angry, it could take some time for her to calm down).

“Dinky…” Ditzy said, carefully, nudging her foal back before turning back to the mare. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

There was a momentary pause, before the mare shook her head. “No, I gathered. My apologies, Dame Doo. I am just… not enamoured of the Night Court, or any of its constituent members.”

Twilight tried and failed not to let out a snort of irritation at that, even if she could understand where the attitude came from. Ditzy seemed to be of the same mind.

“No harm done, then.” She said cheerfully, before turning to look at Twilight. “Goodnight, Twilight.”

Twilight waved at her, as the mailmare led a still-scowling Dinky and Sweetie Belle out, leaving her alone with the grumpy pony.

“Hello again.” Twilight said, carefully.

“Hello.” Midnight responded, her voice utterly level.

“And how are you?” Twilight ventured.

“Aside from unemployed?” The mare returned. Twilight tried not to scowl herself. It looked like her initial encounter was going to be par for the course.
Then she decided no, she wasn’t going to let it stand. She was going to try.

“Look, I know we didn’t get off on the best first footing-”

“You attempted to talk to me while I was working. I rebuffed you.” Midnight said. There wasn’t any malice in her words, just cold recitation of the facts. Then her expression changed slightly.

“But I am not working now. And judging by my sister’s behaviour,” Twilight turned to see Thesis investigating the history section of the shelves, which she’d been giving a serious working over (if one more pony stared blankly at her when she mentioned Star-Swirl the Bearded, she wasn’t certain what she’d do. Probably give them a no-holds barred lecture), “we are likely to encounter one another more often. So for some sense of harmony, I do apologize.”

Twilight murmured at that (and the use of the word sister). It didn’t sound much like an apology to her.

“Why in Equestria was Shining friends with you?” she found herself asking.

At that, the mare actually looked taken aback, and glanced away from her. “Captain Armor… tends to see the best in everypony. Or tries to, at any rate.” Her gaze returned to Twilight, “though I suspect in me he also saw something else.”

Twilight felt a knot in her stomach, if the mare was suggesting what she thought she was suggesting.

“He spoke of you a lot.” Midnight continued. “Even before you graduated. Usually in the context of how proud he was of your accomplishments. It could be… aggravating, sometimes.”

“Sounds kind of sweet to me.” Both mares turned to look at Thesis, who was looking through a particularly large book she’d found. After a moment, she looked up and stared right back at them. “What?”

Twilight shook her head.

“Time to go home, little one.” Midnight said. Thesis stood up, and trotted over towards the mare.

“Don’t forget your book.” Twilight said. At that, the filly stopped and looked back to the book sheepishly, scurrying over to it and back.

“And you’re absolutely sure I can’t persuade you to take another book?” Twilight offered. “I would suggest something like the Ace of Clover books, but… those might be a little advanced for your age. How about Daring Do?”

Thesis’s face scrunched up in thought. “Maybe?” she ventured. Twilight grinned in triumph, and trotted over to where the Daring Do books were kept.

“You don’t really have to read these in any particular order,” she said, picking out one book (which she was amazed to note was in fact the first book, right next to the second, which itself was next to the third. Evidently nopony had been near that shelf since the last time she'd reordered it), “but I’d still suggest starting with the first anyway.”
For a moment, the reader in her had to fight down the urge to not recommend the second book. She was meant to be working as a librarian, not a literary critic.

“Just remember to bring it back before the expiry date. Sorry,” she said, on seeing Thesis’s expression, “library rules.”





“You’re being very quiet.” Midnight said, as the two ponies walked home.

“Just thinking.” Thesis replied. Some of it had been thinking about the books she’d taken out. She’d been wanting to read one then and there, but it was too dark to do that. And there was a likelihood she’d walk into something if she tried anyway.

“What did you make of Sparkle’s magic lessons?”

Thesis frowned as she thought about it. “It was okay.” She said. “But a lot of it was just stuff I already knew. I know how to levitate things.”

“I suspect Sparkle’s tutoring is rudimentary for a reason, not least because she is dealing with foals in a confined space which does not belong to her. Recall the devastation your early spellcasting caused.”

“I guess.” Thesis murmured.

“And there weren’t very many of you there. She likely felt it would be unfair to those that didn’t attend.”

“Yeah.” That did make sense to Thesis.

“Did you know all that stuff about her grandmothers?” she asked.

“I assume you mean the matter of the Griffon king and the coup?” Midnight replied, “yes. Much of it is a matter of historical record.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I did say I wasn’t much of a storyteller. And, as I’m sure you heard me remark to Dame Doo, I am not enamoured of the Night Court. And it did give you an opportunity to talk with Sparkle.” She added after a moment.

“I didn’t really talk with her. She talked at me.” Thesis murmured, then she saw her sister staring at something behind them. “What is it?” she asked.

“I thought I saw something…” Midnight frowned, “no matter.”

Thesis looked behind them, and aside from the street lights, and in the distance one of the town weather patrol nudging a cloud along, she saw nothing.

“I don’t think you look like Twilight’s dad.” She said, after a moment. Midnight gave her a look.

“But you’ve never met him.”

“Well…” Thesis frowned. Why had she said that? She’d never met him, and now that she thought about it, she didn’t know what he looked like, beyond apparently not looking like Twilight Sparkle. “No,” she admitted.

“But I still think you look like Twilight Sparkle.”

Midnight suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Then she made a very odd face, shook her head and her pace quickened. Thesis began trotting faster to keep up with her. Strangely enough, she could’ve sworn she smelled something burning.





Ponyville was a town of unusual sights, and after a while, a pony living there learned to live with such things. They became almost routine.
For example, if somepony saw an abnormally large bale of hay moving about, only occasionally stopping and murmuring to itself, such a sight would be utterly normal to a Ponyvillian, and they wouldn’t look twice at it (not even to wonder where a bale of hay had come from in the middle of winter, much less how it had gained the power of speech). In fact, most of them probably wouldn’t even look at it once.
After all, there would be only one explanation, and that was that it was just Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie, and therefore nothing to worry about.
… well, probably. Pinkie Pie’s antics could be worrying sometimes. But so far nopony had been seriously hurt.
In the darkness, the bale of hay moved after the pair of ponies leaving the town library, sticking to the shadows and alleyways as much as a bale of hay could (that is to say, not much).
Occasionally, there would be muffled scratchings, as if somepony was writing something down, and even more occasionally, a pair of binoculars would pop out from one side.
“Observation of subject Equus Midnighticus continues…”





It was getting late, and cold, and so Thesis decided to wrap herself up under her bedsheets, and looked at the book Twilight Sparkle had recommended she take out. She’d been uncertain about reading it, but also she’d been busy with dinner and homework and reading the book on names, so she hadn’t really gotten around to it yet. All she’d done so far was take a look at the cover. She was just about to start when Midnight appeared at her door.

“It’s nearly bedtime, little one.” The mare said, before stopping. “Though I see this might be redundant.”

Thesis just shrugged. “I was just gonna try reading this book.” She explained.

“Daring Do.” Midnight said, looking at the cover. “Written by Professor Yearling.”

There was another odd look on her sister’s face. “Do you know her?”

“No.” Midnight said, “I’ve never met her. I did try, once, but…”
She seemed to be staring at something. Thesis waited for her to finish whatever she was saying, but she just continued staring.

“Are you okay?” Thesis asked. Midnight shook her head.

“Sorry, little one, I was just thinking about…” suddenly her expression turned harsh, “it doesn’t matter.” She looked at the book. “If you like, I could read it to you.”

“Really?” Thesis asked.

“I would like to. But it’s up to you, if you would prefer I left you alone.”

“No.” She said quickly, “but you said you weren’t much of a storyteller.”
“As I am certain Sparkle no doubt said, practice makes perfect.”

Thesis hummed. Twilight Sparkle had in fact said that earlier today. So she adjusted herself as Midnight opened the book.

“Daring Do, by A.K. Yearling.” Midnight began. “Archaeology is the search for fact, not truth. If you, as a reader, are interested in truth, then there are many books on philosophy available at your nearest library or bookstore which I could recommend. Seventy percent of all archaeology is done in the library, either research or reading. Very rarely does it involve fights or dramatic adventures or chases.”

After a moment’s pause, Midnight continued. “To my fellow archaeologists – I am very sorry.”

“What does that mean?” Thesis found herself asking.

“Professor Yearling has something of a reputation among the professional archaeological circles.” Midnight stated. “She does not get invited to many parties. Anyway…” she coughed, “Chapter one…”





“Daring Do?” Diamond Tiara asked, her voice rising slightly in that odd way she did sometimes.

Thesis nodded, and went back to her peanut butter and tomato sandwich. The pink earth pony made yet another disapproving face, but not nearly as much as the one Silver Spoon was making behind her.

Apparently Diamond Tiara had decided she was speaking to Thesis again today, and had taken advantage of the fact she was eating by herself to approach her. Conversation had turned to last night’s reading, which Diamond had actually seemed confused by to begin with (and she’d gotten really weird, even by her standards, when Thesis had asked if her mother or father ever read to her).

“I don’t like those books.” Silver Spoon declared. There was a momentary flicker of something on Diamond Tiara’s face, but it was gone.

“My mother disapproves of them.” The pink filly sniffed. “She says they’re unrealistic and they encourage bad habits.”

There was something in the way Diamond said this that suggested she didn’t agree with this entirely.

“I liked it.” Thesis murmured, in-between a mouthful of tomato slices. Though some of it had sounded pretty alarming, such as what happened to Do’s guide after he turned on her, or the giant ball nearly crushing her, and the jerk Dr Cabelleron getting away. That had irritated her a lot, especially when her sister had explained carefully that nobody got him, at any point in the book, and that he got away. This hadn’t felt right to Thesis, and she had complained, until her sister had suggested that maybe if that was the case they should’ve stopped for the night.

“Well…” Diamond Tiara said, the words hanging there, and she made a face again. “I suppose there are worse things to like.”

Before Thesis could ask what exactly those things were, Silver Spoon made another face. “It’s just so dumb, all the running around and fighting and getting attacked by cats. Who enjoys that?”

“Scootaloo?” Thesis suggested. Diamond suddenly looked like she’d sat on something she shouldn’t have.

“Yes, well…” she coughed, “she would.”

“Does Scootaloo even read books?” Silver Spoon inquired.

“My dad reads ‘em to me.” Diamond Tiara yelped, and jumped around at the sound of Scootaloo’s voice from behind her.

“Don’t sneak up on us like that!”

“I wasn’t sneaking up on you.” The orange and purple filly scowled. “We’re in the middle of the playground. You just weren’t paying attention.”

Thesis had to agree with that. It was hard to imagine Scootaloo sneaking up on anyone ever, even if she wasn’t bright orange.

“What did you want?” Diamond snapped.

“I was gonna talk to Thesis. That okay with you, or do I need a permission slip or something?”

“You can do whatever you like.” Diamond Tiara sniffed again (she’d been doing that a lot today, now that Thesis thought about it), her eyes darting away. “I don’t care.”

Scootaloo stared at her, and shook her head. “Whatever.” She looked at Thesis. “Y’ wanna hang out with us?” She nodded towards a small group of the other foals.

“We were talking.” Diamond Tiara declared.

Thesis said nothing. She’d run out of sandwich, so she couldn’t pretend to be interested in it, and she’d left her books in her saddlebag inside the classroom, so that just left looking between the two fillies (well, three, she supposed, but Silver Spoon did seem excluded from the argument at the moment). Scootaloo’s wings were spread out, like she was prepared for a fight. Thesis wasn’t even sure if Diamond could fight, but from what she gathered, it would’ve been a short one.

“Sure you were.” Scootaloo snorted.

“You could just come hang out with us.” Thesis offered, before Diamond could say something in response. Diamond and Silver Spoon exchanged a look, and then Diamond Tiara snorted.

“No, thank you. C’mon, Silver Spoon.” The two marched off from the bench, not even stopping to look back once. Thesis just felt more confused, especially given she’d assumed Diamond had wanted to talk with her. Diamond Tiara seemed to have that effect on her.

“Daring Do, huh?” Scootaloo asked, once they were gone. “They’re pretty cool. Did you get to the bit with the heads yet?”

“Heads?” Thesis asked. Scootaloo had an unnerving grin on her face, which made her want to take a step back, or possibly several.

“Yeah, there’s this real cool bit where these guys heads…” Scootaloo stopped, and frowned quizzically at her. “You, uh, hadn’t got to that part, had you?”

Thesis shook her head. “Why? What happens?”

Scootaloo’s wings twitched, and she suddenly looked ahead. “Oh, hey, Dinky!” With that, she trotted away.

“What happens to their heads?” Thesis asked, but the filly just increased her pace. “Scootaloo!”





Out on the edges of Ponyville, on the edge of the Everfree Forest, a shape made its way through the undergrowth of the wild, untamed forest, moving carefully so as not to be seen. This was somewhat redundant, as there wasn’t anypony about to see them, the ponies of Ponyville usually staying as far away from the forest as they could, but nonetheless, they made the effort, just in case.

The last time Zecora had come near the town, her attempts to serve Queen Celestia had been inadvertently interrupted by Trixie, and it wasn’t an experience she hoped to repeat, for more than one reason. Also, Celestia had been quite adamant on her servants staying away from Ponyville for the time being, a position Zecora agreed with.

But… there were other matters that had drawn her attention to the town, ones she knew her queen would understand once Zecora explained them to her. It was just an irritant that between the exploration of Spellhold and several other matters, she’d been unable to attend to it sooner.

And it troubled her. Her gaze wasn’t always entirely reliable, especially not in the last year or so. Something was coming, she knew that much, and Celestia was required to face it, but there was something else… something now centered on Ponyville, and she had to know what. And if that meant getting closer to the town, so be it.

Her careful bustling stopped, when an incredibly important fact became apparent to her: She couldn’t move her legs.

After a moment, she realized it was worse. She couldn’t move her entire body, save her eyes. She’d actually walked into a trap.

Zecora wasn’t given to undue panic. She knew there was little to be concerned about, she knew, knew down in her heart that her path had a destination she had not yet been led to, helping Celestia regain her throne, and it would not be easily deterred.

But that didn’t change she was in a trap, right in front of a town of ponies who would have every reason to want her either dead or imprisoned, and she had no means of escaping.

Meaning she was reliant on whoever it was that had set the trap coming for her, and that they would be merciful.
It couldn’t have been any of the Element Bearers, they weren’t the type, and the traps lying around the fringes of Ponyville were usually those designed for timberwolves, set by the town’s farmers, as she’d learned in the days before she’d helped free Celestia, navigating the forest before finding the abandoned castle. Had she stepped in one of those traps, she would’ve known about it (not that she actually would’ve stepped in one, since they were easy to spot, if you weren’t a timberwolf).

It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of grass being trampled.

“What’s this?” a voice called out, that of a young stallion, and one that was likely smiling smugly, if she was any guess, “a zebra, very far from home. How interesting.”

There was a trotting of hooves, but the pony didn’t come into view. “Nice to meet you, Zecora. What brings you back to Ponyville?”

“I sensed a burst of power, born of flame at witching hour. But no alicorn do I see, only that which was not meant to be.”

Suddenly, things seemed to get a lot quieter, all the more unnerving since it had not been terribly loud around them to begin with.
“Why do I get the feeling you are not talking about Thesis with that last part?” the voice intoned, an undercurrent of barely restrained anger very audible in there.

Zecora said nothing. Then she heard the tsking sound.

“What am I to do with you, Zecora? I’m in a bind here. I have my own arrangement with Celestia, and your absence would cast an awkward and unpleasant pall on our meetings. I can’t get rid of you. Especially when it would mean leaving Celestia with that maniac Kindle.” There was a hum. “I supposed I could erase your memories, but… no, that would leave its own problems, and sooner or later either you’d notice or Celestia certainly would. Assuming, of course, you haven’t some preventive measures to stop anyone rummaging around in there.” Zecora felt a hoof press against the side of her head. She wanted to kick at the offending limb, but that was impossible.

“But I don’t feel remotely safe with you getting back to your boss with news of what you’ve found.”

Zecora felt a jab of alarm at the words.

“Tricky, tricky…”

In the skies overheard, Zecora could see two pegasi lazily flying around, moving some of Ponyville’s clouds into a more favourable position, while keeping an eye on the Everfree's own clouds, though they didn’t seem to notice her at that moment. She wasn’t sure how long that would last, though.

“You show respect by using the queen’s true name, but I suspect our goals are not the same.”

“Well…” he said, “not exactly, no. But I do have a vested interest in Celestia regaining her throne and making up with Luna. Preferably with a minimum of chaos and violence.”

There was a long silence, the only sound being furious trampling, evidently the pony pacing back and forth, and the occasional irritated snort.

“Alright,” he eventually said, “I have a proposal, Zecora.”

Zecora tried not to scoff. She was reliant on the mercy of a being who knew more of her than she of him. Her only hope at the moment was that they were going to keep their word, and they actually were pretending to give her a choice. It wasn’t anything to go on.

“I am willing to let you go free. No tricks, no terms, no conditions but this: Don’t tell Celestia about Thesis, and don’t let me catch you again. If you get a better offer than that, by all means, take it. But, and I want to make this abundantly clear, this is with the understanding that if someone comes looking to take the alicorn foal, if there’s even the slightest whiff of Kindle in this town, then the Element Bearers get led right to Celestia’s lair.”

Zecora looked skyward. The two pegasi appeared to be chatting with one another.

She had seen the future. She knew what was. But what was could change, if one wasn’t careful. Celestia was needed, she was needed, and Celestia needed her. There was no other choice, then.

She nodded.

“Excellent.” He said. There was a strange humming sound, and Zecora stumbled as her legs were freed from the trap. She immediately whirled around, preparing for an attack of some kind.
There was no-one there.

For several seconds, nothing at all continued to happen.

After a moment’s careful consideration, and a look back toward where the two pegasi were, Zecora began carefully, yet speedily, making her way away from Ponyville as fast as her legs could take her.





Thesis was a little suspicious at the end of the day, when Cheerilee motioned for her as everypony else was filing out. Especially since she had a very good guess as to what the teacher wanted to speak to her about.

“I can’t help but notice you didn’t hand in your homework.” The mulberry coloured mare said. Thesis felt her stomach drop. There was no point denying it, though.

“I didn’t do it.” Thesis said. Suddenly, Cheerilee made a particularly strange face at her.

“May I ask why?”

It suddenly occurred to her that Cheerilee was standing incredibly still, but her tail was flicking back and forth tremendously.
It also occurred to her that saying anything was probably dangerous, but the words came out anyway.

“I... didn’t feel like it?”

Cheerilee’s tail flicked back and forth even more, but her expression remained exactly the same.
“I see.” She said.

Thesis looked towards the door, and wondered whether she would be able to make it before Cheerilee could stop her.

“I wouldn’t.” Cheerilee’s voice cut in. None of her usual cheer was present. This was something else, something cold and harsh. Which, all things considered, didn’t make the prospect of running any less appealing. Thesis could feel a build-up of magic in her horn, like part of her wanted to cast some magic. Then Cheerilee sighed. “Look, Thesis, you’re not in trouble now. I can understand not wanting to do your homework, but you do understand why that’s wrong, don’t you?”

Thesis murmured something.

“I’m going to assume that was a yes.” Cheerilee frowned, “and that we won’t need to follow up on this conversation with your sister.”

Thesis looked into Cheerilee’s eyes. After only a second, she had to move her gaze to Cheerilee’s ear. She thought back to what her sister had said the other day, about not wanting to go up against Cheerilee. Suddenly, she thought she had an understanding of why Midnight had said that.

“Y’s.” She managed to squeak out. Cheerilee smiled at that.

“Good. That’s all I need to hear.”

Thesis turned and hurried out of the door, before the teacher could say anything else. Outside, most of the other foals had already gone. Her sister was waiting there, but as she approached, she noticed immediately something was different about the mare.

“You did something to your mane.” She observed.

For one thing, she looked significantly less like Twilight Sparkle, with much of her hair, which had been allowed to fall around her neck, now kept in a bun.

“Yes.” Midnight said, running a hoof through her fringe, about the only part of her mane that had remained unchanged. “Too many ponies have said I resemble Twilight Sparkle. Some change was in order.”

“I don’t like it.” Thesis said instantly.

Midnight just scowled at her for a moment. “And how was your day?”

Thesis’s gaze flitted back towards the schoolhouse. “Fine.” Scootaloo hadn’t actually told her what happened with the heads in the Daring Do book, and it was still bothering her.

“You were later than the other foals in leaving. Was something wrong?”

“Just had a talk with Miss Cheerilee. About stuff.” Thesis said. “That’s all.”

“Not talking with you about forgetting to do your homework?”

Thesis froze mid-step. “You knew?” she squeaked.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you do something?”

“I am your sister. It’s my job to look after you. But you chose not to do that homework, yes?”

Thesis looked down at the ground. “Maybe.”

“And now you have an understanding of the consequences?”

“Maybe.”

“So, are you going to do your homework tonight?”

She was about to say “maybe” again, when she looked up at her sister’s face, and saw the expression on it. “Yes.”

“Alright, then.” Midnight said. “Lesson learned.”

The two walked along in silence, Thesis occasionally trying to glower at her sister. She couldn’t help but feel that the lesson could’ve been taught in a less terrifying way.

“In Canterlot, when Lulamoon was younger, Luna had an unofficial edict. You see, Lulamoon would often use her talents with illusion to impersonate ponies, not least the Princess herself. Her Majesty’s response was to instruct any pony who saw through these illusions to inform her as to what it was she had gotten wrong.”

Thesis thought about this for a moment. “So… she wanted ponies to be a bad influence on Trixie?”

“She preferred the term “creative influence”.”

“And did you tell her?” Thesis asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, if a pony doesn’t recognise the difference between a Canterlot accent and a Lunesianan accent even after several years of living there, there’s no helping them.”

There was a momentary pause. “Also, the frustrated expression on Lulamoon’s face when she realised she’d been discovered was mildly amusing.”

It was occurring to Thesis that there was something different about Midnight, and had been over the last few days. She hadn’t been entirely certain, but now she was, and it was worrying her.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked. Her sister gave her another odd look.

“I…” she began. “I’ve spent the last eight years having to be… somepony else. Having to deal with Canterlot politics, compose myself in certain ways. Act in certain ways. And now I am free of those constraints, I’m trying to figure out just who I am. Trying to work out just who Midnight really is. If that makes sense.”

Thesis thought about this for a moment.
“Nope.”

“No,” Midnight said, “I suppose it wouldn’t.”




It was late, and technically Thesis was supposed to be in bed and asleep. She was definitely in bed, but as for asleep…
She’d waited until Midnight had finished up Daring Do for the night (and right when things had been getting exciting, as well), listened for the sound of her going into her own bedroom, and then turned the light back on, and gotten the book back out again.

It had been several chapters, but so far, she hadn’t seen anything happening to anyone’s head (except for the part where a cat tried to jump on Daring’s head, but Thesis was pretty sure that wasn’t what Scootaloo had meant).

As Daring got into a fight on top of a train, as the bad guys were getting away with the treasure she’d been after, Thesis found herself yawning. She looked over at the clock on her bedside table. It was after eleven now. Which, she supposed, explained why she felt so tired. She looked back at the book, to see how far along she was. There wasn’t that much of the book left, since she was more than halfway through. She frowned, part of her wanting to keep going, but it was hard to argue with the parts of her that really, really wanted to get to sleep, which were putting up a convincing argument.
Trying to take note of the page she was on, she set it down, and curled up under her sheets.

When she dreamed, she dreamed of chasing Dr. Caballeron through dark alleyways, until he turned into a pirate and threw a cat at her.
And after that, it got weird.