//------------------------------// // Showtime // Story: Twilight Steals a Watch // by Stygius Nix //------------------------------// Screeching to a halt, the Friendship Express arrived at Ponyville station. The doors opened for the few ponies that were brave enough to be up at this hour, more heading onto the train than getting off. Ponyville was nice and all but, it’s not a hotspot for highly paid jobs. One of the ponies getting on the six o’clock train to Canterlot was Twilight Sparkle. After rigorously testing the stealth suit and causing havoc among Ponyville the day before, Twilight decided it best to get an early night so she could get up early today. Settling in for the hour-long journey, Twilight moved to a window seat as the doors closed; even though she had seen the route a million times by now, it never failed to astound her. She sat there going over her plan in her head as the fertile fields and tumbling hills of Ponyville rolled past the window. Just to be certain of her plans, Twilight opened the saddlebag that sat on the seat next to her. Sifting past her folded stealth suit with a hoof, Twilight reached the bottom of the bag where the rolled-up plan had fallen to. After taking it out and spreading it across the table — and making sure nopony was around — she quadruple-checked the plan. She almost forgot about the seven guards in the containment room. Although the newspaper said that they will be guarding it when it was on display, her Dad had a little looksie around the place Thursday evening and found that the guards were around it like a dragon’s claw on its hoard. “Excuse me, Princess?” Twilight’s head turned like a cog to see a tall grey stallion with a cart in the centre of the aisle. At that moment, Twilight scrambled to roll up her secret plans for ‘Operation Sneaky Sneak’ — as she called it. The cart pony suddenly found the golden button on his red jacket very interesting as he watched in the corner of his eye the local Princess blunder her attempt at acting casual. Twilight finally looked back at the pony with a smile as she rested her cheek on her hoof, “Heh, what is it?” “Would you like anything from the cart? We’re doing the early bird special, pay one bit for a newspaper and get a hot chocolate for free,” he offered with a Trottish accent as he relaxed into the routine. Pondering it over in her head, Twilight realised that you can normally get a newspaper for free if you take someone else’s after they finished with it but hot-chocolate was normally two or three bits and at this moment she would pay twenty. “I’d love to take you up on that offer,” — Twilight squinted at the colt’s nametag — “Grey Steel.” Plopping the newspaper on Twilight’s table and taking the bit suspended in Twilight’s magic, Grey Steel made the hot drink for the young Princess and made sure to add a bit more whipped cream and marshmallows than normal. He placed the steaming mug onto the table with his hoof. “Extra condiments on the house,” he said with a wink. “Thanks. What’s a pony named Grey Steel doing working on a train? Sounds like your talent should be making steel,” she observed as she stuck a wingtip in the drink and put it to her tongue to test the taste and temperature. Her eyes widened in a mix between discovering the heavenly taste and the scolding pain on her tongue. “I’m doing this job so I can have enough bits to move to Manehattan where most of the steelworks in Equestria are. I used to help out me father in the blacksmiths but most ponies import their steel from the big corporations now so we had to close down. “But I’m hoping that I can eventually revive the family business and build a steel manufacturing company based in the Ponyville area,” he explained while taking a seat opposite Twilight. “What about the pollution infecting the crops? That’s one of the reasons why most factories are in big industrial cities.” “I know, but if I can find a way to collect the soot from being released into the air and use it as a fuel after compressing it and doing sciency things to it, I can limit the amount of pollution released.” “It’s a nice idea, Grey, but other ponies have had a similar idea and that led to severe carbon problems, not to mention the amount it would cost to turn soot into fuel like coal with all those impurities. I’m sorry to crush your dreams a bit but it would only lead to ruin. Your best option is to go to Manehattan and come back to Ponyville when you have enough bits to start a small but high-quality blacksmith,” Twilight said gravely as she put a hoof on his. “I suppose it was a tad unrealistic,” he admitted disappointedly as he got up and began slowly moving the cart down the aisle. “Anyway, I gotta go. It was nice talking to you, Princess.” “Likewise, and please, just call me Twilight,” she said before taking a sip of her hot cocoa to see if it was cool enough to drink. “Fare thee well, Prin—Twilight,” he stammered with a smile, already eyeing the next potential customer down the carriage. “See ya,” Twilight waved goodbye. Taking another sip of her drink, she started to read the newspaper. Princesses still at large as sightings of the Solar and Lunar goddesses reported all over Equestria! The majority of the royal guard has returned to Canterlot simply to wait until they return. However, some ponies wish to prove themselves by searching for them. One of these groups consists of five ponies who were supposed to have been guarding the new watch at ‘Celestia’s Bottom’ (opens today at 11:30!). But who has been governing our nation while the Princesses have gone AWOL? The answer to that is none other than the council of nobles who have been hoof picked to run Equestria in case the Princesses aren’t available. A reputable source has told us that this council will be called the SENET (Suspected Equestrian Nobles who Evade Taxes). Princess Cadance has commented saying: “My aunties have been known to do silly things from time to time and I think we should all get time to let our mane down, including us Princesses.” Princess Twilight has yet to comment on the situation. Leaning back in her seat, Twilight let out a tired sigh; this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Going AWOL was a yearly endeavour for the two Princesses but nopony ever knew when they would leave or for how long. Last year, they disappeared for a few days after going on a climbing expedition in the Frozen North, supposedly looking for yetis. And it just so happened to be that one of the council members was jailed after they returned – turns out the media uncovered one of the nobles actually was evading taxes, among other crimes. This was clearly a plan made by Celestia and Luna to find out the truth about how some of the nobles operate and if they should be worthy of such a title, without internal meddling. Luna thinks that there are only a few that are worthy of such a title and the rest should be ejected from the castle grounds, preferably with a large cannon. On the contrary, Celestia prefers keeping them in her pocket; they’re bearable if you know how to direct their focus. Twilight sat in her seat gazing out the window as the track began to steepen, and the surroundings became less vibrant and more bland and rocky. She returned her attention to her drink and newspaper as the train entered the first tunnel of Mt Canterhorn, marking the remaining forty minutes of her journey. The recently installed lighting in the carriage was a brilliant addition and allowed Twilight to read without having to use the light of her horn, much to her delight. The hustle and bustle of Canterlot was always something Twilight disliked about living here as a kid, preferring to stay at home and, later on, at the castle. Some ponies greeted her as she walked but mostly left her be; the snobs of Canterlot were too busy looking down their noses with closed eyes at everypony even to notice her, not that they ever saw her as a real Princess anyway. That says a lot about Canterlot’s ‘elite’ society — heads so far up their backsides that they become blind to the state of the world and don’t even acknowledge those that keep them at the top. Twilight tried to keep to the back alleys to move around the city unnoticed. The drawback of that was the unsavoury ponies that lurked there, unfortunately for them, Twilight was an alicorn of immense power. She incapacitated the first group of hoodlums with a single blast of her magic. It was still early morning in Canterlot and while the Sun hovered in the east, it failed to light up the west side of the city. This gave Twilight the opportunity to use her stealth suit to sneak past the groups of ponies. She quickly threw off her saddlebags and dug out the suit. The suit was a little difficult to put on without help, demonstrated by Twilight stumbling around as she tried to get her rear hooves into the suit. Eventually, Twilight got both hind hooves in, proceeded to do the same with her forehooves, and zipped up the front of the suit. Hiding her mane, she stretched the hood over her head and lined up the hole in the top with her horn. Letting go, the material slapped her on the noggin, which caused her to wince and bite on her tongue. The light absorption enchantment took effect as her body shifted from graphite grey to pure black, the outline distorted slightly in a shadowy smoky sort of aura. Shrugging on her saddlebags, those too became shrouded in darkness. She glided over the group of ponies like a phantom, almost unnoticed as they brushed it off as their minds playing tricks on them. From there, Twilight weaved through the maze of buildings and crept between the shadows of doorways. After half an hour of navigating the backstreets of Canterlot, Twilight finally reached her destination. A large building — recently refurbished, from the looks of the scaffolding on the outside — stood in front of a community square. The structure reminded her of the town hall back in Ponyville, except with an ivory coloured roof and a glass dome atop of it. A red banner ran across the main entrance that displayed, ‘Stuff Celestia Can Never Get Her Shiny Metal Hoof Shoes On’ in bold black lettering. Though behind that, an old sign resided as the banner wafted in the morning breeze, displaying ‘Celestia’s Bottom’ under a picture of an empty glass with Celestia’s cutie mark on it. It used to be one of Canterlot’s best-known pubs and was the origin for the phrase ‘bottoms up’, but was forced out of business when a new pub — called ‘Celestia’s Teat’ — opened outside the royal castle. What most ponies didn’t know was that the royal sisters owned these two pubs. Celestia had successfully run the pub for generations until Luna returned. Luna was quick to establish her new business located outside the castle, a prime tourist destination, and after she sent a crude drawing of what it would look like to drink from Celestia’s Bottom to the press, ponies rapidly took their business elsewhere to Canterlot’s newest pub. Nopony would ever know the building as anything other than ‘Celestia’s Bottom’, especially with the reputation that it had. It made Twilight giggle like a filly every time she heard the name. Twilight flew round to the side of the building where she looked for a way to the back. Her eyes lit up as they spotted scaffolding along the side of the building, hopefully leading to the warehouse at the back of the premises. Scampering up the ladder, Twilight peeped over the edge of the wooden boards to see the end blocked off. However, there was a window left ajar. Although teleporting in would be easier, it was also noisy and detectable by any unicorn within a hundred-metre radius. Using a piece of cloth to absorb the sound of the latch undoing, Twilight unhooked the metal pin on the window and cropped the glass pane open. It was like a tomb inside; eerily quiet and cloth coverings still shrouded the displays. It was difficult to determine where in the museum she was, but Twilight suspected she was in the western wing — judging from the wagons and Applejack hats. Manoeuvring herself through the slim gap, Twilight dropped down onto the marble floor silently. However, the contents of her saddlebag rattled against each other as the clink of metal echoed around the desolate halls of the museum. Twilight’s ears perked, straining to pick up any hoofsteps of guards. Nothing. Sighing in relief, she pulled out her pocket watch and checked the time; she had just less than four hours to steal the watch. As she put the watch back into her bag, she noticed the blueprint for the layout of the building leant against a radio. Briefly looking over the layout confirmed her suspicions, she was currently in the western wing, and to get to the warehouse she needed to take a right towards the main office, and then a left towards the archives, the warehouse should be at the end of the archives. After folding up the blueprints and putting them back in her bag, Twilight quietly set off on her way. Twilight’s heart was pounding in her chest, forcing her to take a moment to collect herself in the hallway — there wasn’t supposed to be any guards about but Twilight was still on edge. Twilight leant against the wall with her back as she remembered Cadance’s breathing exercise from when she was a filly. She placed one hoof on her pulsing chest and stretched the other away from her, then moved it back and forth with the rhythm of her breathing, in… and out. It would’ve been difficult to see Twilight visibly relax because of the suit and all, but she did. Pushing off the wall, Twilight headed for the office where she was hoping to destroy any paperwork regarding the watch. A mahogany door with a classic translucent window, the word ‘Office’ painted on it, greeted her. She looked down at the bronze doorknob and squeezed it with her magic. It was locked, because of course it had to be locked. Twilight fussed over different methods of opening the door, they all had their pros and cons, but one idea demanded to be tried. Charging her magic in her horn, Twilight prepared the spell. If she hadn’t been such a skilled mage, she might have missed the latch between the door and the doorframe. The latch became smaller and smaller. Once it was small enough, Twilight cut off the spell and opened the door. She would have shrunk herself down to fit through the keyhole if it wasn’t so demanding on her magic; she would have to continuously be pumping magic into her wings to fly through it and it could have unforeseen side effects. Therefore, she thought it would be more efficient just to shrink the latch. The interior of the office was one of the most stereotypical offices she had ever seen. Filing cabinets decked the walls and in the centre was a cheap oak desk. However, the thing that really made her roll her eyes was the photo behind the desk, for it was a portrait of Shoddy Silver. There he sat in a leather chair in front of a fireplace, smoking from a pipe with a smirk. The more she examined it, the more she discovered about the photo: like how the fireplace was made of plastic and the fire was a blurry smudge, or that the frame of the portrait wasn’t actually silver but rather silver enamel coated wood. A short time after raiding the abysmally organised filing cabinets, she found the documents for the watch. The documents weren’t exactly heavy on the details but evidence was evidence. She put them in her saddlebags to be destroyed later, before trotting out the door and closing it behind her. She resized the latch on the door — making it just a little bigger than before so it would have trouble opening — and then skulked down another empty hallway towards the archives. The morning Sun cast just enough light through the many windows of the museum to be able to see clearly, there were still shadows in the corners of rooms but that was good news for Twilight. Hopping from one shadow to the next, Twilight began to have a bit of fun, although it would be a bit embarrassing for the mare if she were spotted at that moment. It was difficult to tell that this place was ever a pub, it was just so vast, but when she reached the archives and opened the door, it was obvious what this room had been used for. The smell of centuries-old wine and ale still permeated the air and assaulted her nostrils; unsurprisingly, the scent was so strong it made Twilight gag. The room was rather queer, it was completely different from the rest of the building, as the floor was made of uneven stone slabs and there were still the original wooden support beams sprawling above her horn. Taking a closer look at the wooden beams, Twilight went light-headed; the wood had managed to soak up any alcohol spilt in the past and hold it for decades. This room may as well have been part of the exhibition. But amidst the old was the new — rows of cabinets and draws spanned the area, seeming bought in bulk from IKEYA. It took about twenty minutes of pilfering each row to find anything about the watch. Just as she thought about giving up, Twilight spotted a chipboard drawer labelled ‘OP Watch’ — she didn’t know what the ‘OP’ stood for, but it was the only instance of ‘watch’ in the entire archives so far. She eagerly opened the drawer to find it nigh empty. There were, like, three photos in there along with notes from the previous owner. The level of disappointment Twilight felt was rage-inducing. All that time spent searching to find three photos that look like they were taken from behind a smudgy window at a zoo, and what could only be described as used bog roll — in both content and material. Twilight didn’t even bother putting them her bag, she outright destroyed them right there in the drawer. They reduced to nothing but orange glowing embers that quickly paled and died. In an effort to expend some anger, Twilight slammed the drawer shut. “What was that?” A low gravelly voice asked in alarm on the other side of the steel doors that led to the warehouse. A feminine murmur was given in response, followed by the sound of heavy hoofsteps. Twilight froze. Her head became a pinball machine for her thoughts as they bounced around chaotically. Not knowing what thoughts to act on, she saw a small stack of wooden boxes and quickly placed the top one onto the floor on its side with the lid opened. The hoofsteps grew even louder as the door began to ease open. With a desperate flap of her wings, the Alicorn thief darted to the crossbeams overhead. Fully opening the door, the guard looked around the room and briefly saw a shadow move in the corner of his eye. “Probably just a bird flying past the window… probably,” he mused as he investigated the source of the disturbance. He searched each row for any signs of an intruder, then looked down the second to last one and found the culprit. A wooden box was keeling over, contents spilling out over the floor. “Another victim of poor organisation,” he sighed in disappointment before scooping the contents of the box up and dumping them back in. Looking down at the earth pony guard, Twilight was sweating. She wasn’t worried about detection due to the beam supporting her, but that very beam was making it difficult for her to breathe. The air must’ve been forty per cent oxygen and fifty per cent ethanol because her lungs were burning, straining not to cough. To Twilight’s relief, the guard didn’t hang around long and quickly went back to his station in the warehouse. Dropping down, Twilight gasped for fresh air as her lungs heaved. After a muffled coughing fit, Twilight began to implement the next part of her plan. One guard was easy to handle but more than that was just asking for trouble. That’s why it was extremely fortunate that most of the guards weren’t present. Digging through the contents of her saddlebag, Twilight looked for the next piece of the plan. Her hoof bumped into something metal and box-like. Retracting her hoof with the object in tow, she took it out of the bag to reveal a small radio. The above standard radio was sweeping the nation, the PONY TR-55. It was very expensive, priced at two hundred bits, due to the relatively new technology. This little plan might set her back a few bits, but it will be worth it. She retrieved a bottle of sap from her other saddlebag and took it, and the radio, to the window. The bottle of sap collected from the Everfree Forest began to warm up in a lavender glow as Twilight set up the radio. Sliding her hoof along the tuner at the top, she selected the frequency for Ponyville FM. She then turned the volume dial all the way up and ripped it off, requiring a unicorn or a screwdriver to turn it back down. Twilight looked over at the heated sap, deeming it warmed up enough, and undid the cap. There weren’t any batteries in the radio yet, so it was safe to switch it on. However, before she did that, she trickled some sap on the button. The switch slid into the on position. Twilight gave it a bit of a push and squeeze to make sure it stuck well. She just needed to wait three minutes for it to harden and then put in the batteries. As the sap hardened, she dug out a pair of batteries and placed one in the slot on the back. Twilight was no fool; she knew that if she put in the next one it would turn on instantly and ruin her plan, so instead, she put a bubble of silence around the radio. After the second battery was in she drizzled some sap in there so nopony could take out the batteries, then put the plastic cover over it. The bottle was half-empty. Twilight decided to use the rest up by covering the base of the radio and sticking it to the windowsill. It was the evilest thing. Holding her breath, Twilight returned to the loft — much to her distaste. She spotted a ventilation duct on the back wall that should, according to the blueprints, lead to the warehouse. It was hard to believe that the grate didn’t have any fittings — not one, it just popped off. It was a tight squeeze but she managed to wriggle her way inside. She closed the grate behind her with her magic and then shuffled forward a few metres before there was a fork in the path. How in the hay did that get here? She quickly put the question to the back of her mind as she refocused the task at hoof. The saddlebags were too big to wear, so Twilight had settled for pulling them with her tail. Because of this, they managed to scoop up the fork as it slipped through the gap in the flap. Then Twilight was faced with the difficult choice of heading straight — where she could see daylight at the end — or right towards the warehouse. She turned… right! See, she could make decisions without Celestia’s input. Peeking through the gaps in the vent, Twilight saw towers of crates between her and the watch. Twilight shall not let a wooden city stand in her way of success. Her enthusiasm alone would’ve been enough to tear through the vent grate, that’s if Twilight hadn’t constrained herself. She gently slid open the grate with her telekinesis before pulling herself and her belongings with her. She lugged on her saddlebags as she crept between the shadows of crates. Eventually, she found herself in front of a crate and to the right of a cyan unicorn mare with a pink and grey curly mane, who suddenly looked towards her. Twilight didn’t dare move a muscle as the blue guard scanned the area. To the mare, Twilight was just a strangely shaped shadow stretched across a dimly lit floor. Nopony could come from there anyway; the only ways in were through the massive doors of the loading bay and the door to the archives that Cleaver was guarding. She didn’t see the point in guarding something she couldn't even see. “Who pays somepony to guard something that’s always covered with a blanket anyway?” She asked the stallion across from her. Seemingly startled by the sudden uptake in conversation, Cleaver took a couple failed attempts to respond. “Mr Silver insisted that it was very important that we didn’t see it because he wants everypony to see it together. Besides, it doesn’t matter as long as we get paid, right Cinder?” “Right,” Cinder agreed, falling back into silence. Twilight decided it was the right time to initiate the final parts of Operation Sneaky Sneak. She released the bubble of silence with a quick burst of magic and the room next to her became filled with music. “Ugh, what now? It better not be another fallen box,” Cleaver windged as he went through the door again. He cantered towards the window. Maybe there’s a festival outside or the Princesses are back? As he neared the window, he saw the radio sitting there. He was hoping to use the bits earned on this job to buy one of these, and now one was sitting there all for him. He tried to pick it up but it wouldn’t budge, even with his earth pony magic and bulging muscles. Deciding just to turn it off, he switched the radio off — or at least he tried to. The button was stuck in with some sort of gunk. Thinking like an engineer, he decided to try to cut the power off at the source. He leaned over the back to get a better look of the power source, but it seemed covered in a slightly sticky substance. He didn’t want to go hoofing with that, for all he knew, it could be battery acid. “Fine, I’ll just have to turn the volume dow— oh come on! Seriously, I thought this was supposed to be the highest quality radio yet?” He tried wedging the tip of his hoof in there to no avail. “Cindy, I need your super useful unicorn powers! Get in here, now!” He shouted in frustration. Twilight hadn’t anticipated that the mare would be called for help, thus making the stale piece of bread she had almost useless. This turned out to be very lucrative for Twilight. Twilight watched Cinder walk off with a huff and bust open the archive doors and yell, “I told you not to call me that at work!” She slammed the door shut, leaving Twilight alone with the watch. She near enough pounced behind the covered case as she prepared to uncover it. With a gust, the blanket was yanked away, revealing… The watch sat on a pillow, in all its glory. It was the most magnificent watch Twilight had ever seen. The platinum band was brilliantly polished and had beautiful golden engravings around the edges, giving it a royal aesthetic. Next to it was a similarly designed chain that looked to be able to swap with the band. The casing of the watch was also platinum but left relatively plain. The same could not be said for the watch face, however, as the hands were matte black with gold trims. The hand that counted the seconds ticking by was silver with a red tip. Commonly, the background of a watch is white but this one was cream with a slightly pink tint. On the circumference of the face was what made it a true relic; its compass markings were glowing pale blue. She would have to figure out what else it does later as she only had roughly three minutes to open the case. Allegedly, this case was magic proof — but it wasn’t Twilight proof. She grabbed the stale loaf and raised it high above the lock. The sound of blaring music could still be heard from the other room, along with petty squabbling between a mare and stallion. The bread descended as quickly as the room temperature had when Spike asked where Applejack’s parents were at dinner one time. With a snap, the lock broke. Gently replacing the watch with the stale loaf, Twilight grinned with victory and put the watch and the chain in her bag. Twilight closed the case, fixed the lock with a quick localised time reversal spell, and threw the cover back over it. Retreating quickly, she began to make her escape when something odd caught her eye. The silhouette of a certain dream walker imprinted the side of a shipping crate under a harsh spotlight. She raised a forehoof in front of it, comparing the levels in blackness — her suit should be darker, she put a lot of effort into making it the second darkest light-absorbing enchantment. Twilight’s hoof paled in comparison. That’s not possible; the only pony that can make something that dark is… “Greetings, Twilight,” a deep feminine voice announced in front of her. The void grew bigger and bigger, morphing impossibly. Twilight was staring right into it now, her back legs trembling under the gaze of the abyss. Slowly, the darkness began to lighten, turning from black to grey to blue — revealing two beautiful teal eyes. “Luna, what are you doing here? What do you want— mff,” a midnight blue hoof touched Twilight’s lips, silencing her. “Listen well, Twilight Sparkle. You must board the next train to Trottingham, head straight to the station and stay there. Once aboard, all your questions will be answered,” Luna instructed to a very confused Twilight. The music cut off. Shuffling hoofsteps became progressively louder as Twilight stood looking at the door. She turned back to look at Luna only to see a shipping crate in her stead, always was one for theatrics. Breaking into action, Twilight sped off towards the vent where she hastily levitated her saddlebags into the duct and followed them. Just as the guards opened the door, the vent closed. Twilight moved slowly as not to make a sound; the sound of hooves on metal is loud enough without the echo of a vent. She followed her nose right towards the mountain air of Canterlot. Twilight felt the bag in her hooves meet resistance, prompting her to feel around with her magic until she felt the edge of the grate on the other side. Pulling it open, Twilight levitated her bag down onto the floor and graciously threw herself out. The vent closed with a low squeak as she scrambled to put on her saddlebags yet again. She looked about the loading bay briefly, searching for a discreet way out. There seemed to be nowhere to go, unfortunately. Twilight’s wings unfurled in preparation for take-off. She felt the ground under her become lighter but pulling her down stronger, almost like an elastic band. Harshly emptying her lungs with a huff of effort, Twilight slapped her wings down and shot off into the clouds. The cloud was a fluffy cushion for Twilight while she flailed about high above the streets of Canterlot, trying to get her suit off while holding her bags. After threatening to rip apart one of Rarity’s works, the suit gave way and released her from its cocoon. Once it was packed into her bag again Twilight looked down at Canterlot to find the train station — it was right where it normally was, funnily enough — and then she was on her way. It was half-past two in the afternoon, Twilight was sitting idly on a bench reading a newspaper. She had arrived at the station at eleven, many trains had come and gone since then but none of them was going to Trottingham. There were tens of ponies at the station when she got here, now she was alone. Judging from the front page of the newspaper, the museum opening had gone terribly due to the main attraction not even being there. Museum Opening Gone Wrong, Gone Deceitful, Ponies who had lined up for hours left angry and betrayed as the museum turned out to be nothing more than a collection of lies and fakes. When the greatly anticipated magical watch was unveiled, a perfectly preserved loaf of bread was there in its stead. Naturally, the curator — Shoddy Silver — tried to prove its existence but could not find any evidence of ever even acquiring the item. Along with the main attraction, many of the other exhibits were found to be either fake or mass-produced knockoffs. Ponies have rumoured that the building is cursed after the closing of Celestia’s Bottom seven years ago. Perhaps these rumours are true. Her reading and the silence of the barren platform was interrupted as the Trottingham train arrived. When it finally screeched to a halt, the doors opened to let ponies off, except there were no ponies. This struck Twilight as odd, and the sinking feeling in her gut told her it was about to get weirder. Twilight tentatively stepped onto the train and looked down the carriages, finding nopony. She took a seat with her bags as the train pulled away with a hiss of steam. Soon after, the sound of doors opening could be heard further down the cart, making Twilight grow uneasy. It was difficult to tell but it sounded like two ponies were heading her way. She hoped that they won’t come this far up, but the heavy hoofsteps crushed her hopes when they grew louder. Twilight held her bags tighter against her barrel. The ponies were now just a few metres behind her. They stopped at her seat. Twilight turned to face her possible killers. Celestia and Luna grinned back. No single word could be used to describe Twilight’s feelings. A mix of emotions washed over Twilight’s face, surprise, terror, confusion, admiration, relief. All frozen in place at Luna’s words, “We hath stolen a train!” Twilight would have freaked out entirely if it wasn’t for Luna’s sheer happiness in her announcement. “Twilight, I’m afraid we need your help. You see, I bought this incredible cake from a baker in Prance but I can’t eat it without a fork. We’ve looked all over the train but we can’t find one, please help us,” Celestia nearly cried as she placed the cake on the table. It truly was incredible, three layers of goodness, all covered in strawberry chocolate with a drizzle of lemony white chocolate. “Hmm, I guess I could test out my new watch,” Twilight offered as she opened her saddlebags to retrieve said item. She put the watch around her left foreleg for the first time and thought of a fork. “Where did you find my watch? I made it myself shortly before I was banished, I see all my enchantments have left it intact. I tried looking for it at the old castle but to no avail,” Luna said with a long lost spark in her eyes. Just as Twilight was about to respond, she saw that the watch displayed an arrow towards the nearest fork along with a number and a unit of measurement on the watch face. Thirty-eight centimetres, that can’t be right. She dug around in her bag to find exactly what she was not expecting to find — a fork. How in the hay did that get here? The look on Celestia’s face was priceless. Her ears perked and her eyes shimmered, and that smile, she looked predatory, ready to pounce on her prey. Twilight was concerned, for both her own safety and the cake’s. Then another question entered her mind. “Who’s driving the train?” The two sisters turned to each other with panic-stricken eyes as horrifying realisation dawned on them.