//------------------------------//
// The Third Bell Rings- A Certain Archaeologist & The Window of the Heart 
// Story: The Serenade of Silver Belles 
// by Your Antagonist 
//------------------------------//


The Serenade of Silver Belles



By: Your Antagonist



Edited By: Starwind Dood, Aziraphael, TheWattsMan, Brony2893, Cpl. Hooves and (The Great and Powerful) Plyxe



Chapter 3- A Certain Archaeologist & The Window of the Heart


On this Friday afternoon, an argument was unfolding within the kitchen of the Weight family household. On one side of the argument stood a massive tan monster of a workhorse bearing a pair of boxing gloves on his flank who went by the name of Welterweight. On the other side of the altercation, a worried cream white pegasus mare by the name of Lightweight.

“Look here, there is nothing wrong with our son, and that’s the last I want to hear of this nonsense, Light!” Welterweight bellowed, stomping his hoof on the ground.

“Welter, please just think about it.” Lightweight gently placed a hoof on her husband’s withers. “Doesn’t it all add up?”

“No! Now shut up about it so I can get back to my paper!” shouted Welterweight. 

“Oh, Welter,” Lightweight cooed, reaching over with a hoof to gently turn her husband towards herself. “I know this must be hard for you to accept, but just give it a little thought.”

“No!” Welterweight snorted and irritatedly swatted his wife’s hoof away as though it were a parasprite. 

Needless to say, his wife was not amused by this outburst in the slightest. 

“Look, Lightweight,” Welterweight sighed as his wife’s gaze melted away his fierce demeanor. “The boy is ten years old. You can’t go jumping to these kinds of conclusions so quickly. So what if he hasn’t come home with a filly yet? That doesn’t mean that he’s a… a…”

“Colt-cuddler?”

“My son is not a colt-cuddler!” Welterweight slammed his hoof down on a nearby counter, subsequently causing his wife to wince at the sound of various cups and containers as they bounced and cracked along the countertop.

“Welter, please calm down,” Lightweight pleaded, but the words fell on deaf ears. “Please, why don’t we just go upstairs and talk to him about—”

Welterweight slammed his hooves down on the counter again, effectively silencing his wife. “We are not going to pursue this any further. I don’t want to hear one more word about the subject.”

“But dear, what if—”

Ding-dong! Ding-dong! The loud chime of the front doorbell resonated throughout the kitchen, punctuating the stern stallion’s sentence.
 
“Who the hay could that be at a time like this!?” Welterweight turned to his wife who simply shrugged in response. “This had better be important. I’m in no mood to deal with salescolts or filly scouts right now.”
 
Welterweight, followed by his wife, lumbered his way to the front door and bucked it open ferociously, causing his wife to wince at his brutish behavior. Welterweight whipped his head left and right in search of the pony who rang the doorbell, but there was nopony in his line of sight. Just as he was getting ready to write the interruption off as a pegasus or unicorn playing the old ding-dong ditch prank, something began poking him lightly in the fetlock. The workhorse looked down and was met with the angelic smile of the cutest pink filly he’d ever seen in Ponyville. “I’m sorry little lady, but we don’t have time to deal with filly scouts right now, so if you would—“
 
“Oh, but I’m not a filly scout, Mr. Weight,” the filly admitted. “I’m a friend of Featherweight’s from school: Diamond Tiara. Is he home?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
 
Welterweight felt his heart stop in disbelief. “Hold on a second young filly, you said Featherweight, right?”

The filly nodded in affirmation.

“As in my son Featherweight?”

“Welter!” Lightweight gasped, shocked at her husband’s reaction.

The filly simply nodded again.

An actual filly who wasn’t a stand-in cousin for some school dance was here to see Featherweight? At that moment, Welterweight felt something he hadn’t felt in so long begin to swell in his chest: his sense of fatherly pride. “See, Light, I knew that there was no way in Tartarus that my son was a colt-cuddler, I just knew it…” Welterweight turned his head to hide the tears that had begun welling up in his eyes. “Sorry, I’ve got something in my eye.”
 
Lightweight rolled her eyes and shook her head, sighing at her husband’s melodramatic reaction to the news. “Hold on a second dear, let me call him down for you.” Lightweight turned her head and shouted up the stairs, “Featherweight, come on down honey, your little friend is here to see you!”

A minute passed and the only response the mare of the house received was still silence.

“I swear, that boy and his photography… Featherweight, come down here now!” Lightweight shouted.

This time her summons had warranted an audible response as the sounds of panicked hoofsteps on wooden flooring and labored panting from deeper inside the house began to draw closer to her position. A moment later, a scrawny, brown-maned pegasus bearing a camera around his neck came scrambling into view, huffing and heaving. “You… *huff*… called… *huff*… mom?”

“First, what have I told you about running in the house?” Lightweight asked.

“Sorry, mom,” Featherweight sighed.

“Second, your little fillyfriend is here to see you,” the housemare teased.

“Fillyfriend?” Featherweight turned his curiosity to the figure standing in the doorway. “But I don’t—” The colt’s sentence trailed off the moment his eyes took in the filly’s all too familiar pink coat and styled mane. “I… I…”

“Oh, Featherweight, did you forget that you invited me to study with you at the park this afternoon?” Diamond Tiara reached into her saddlebag and withdrew her small black book. All of the blood in Featherweight’s body turned to ice at the very sight of the damnable tome. Diamond Tiara furrowed her eyebrows at Featherweight, but maintained her devilish grin. It was like a spider sizing up a hapless meal of a moth that had tangled itself up in the spider’s web.

Featherweight swallowed a rather hard lump that had formed in his throat and strained himself to force his lips into an unconvincing smile. “Heh, that’s r-right… study… with you… how... how could I forget?”

“Oh, and look at that, you already have your camera with you!”

“I… I guess I do…” he replied glumly. Having been forced to study with Diamond Tiara, Featherweight could already tell what it was that she wanted from him. He just hadn’t counted on her making any house calls.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weight, do you mind if we leave now? We’ve got so much to cover for class, and it would just be a shame if we didn’t squeeze in as much study time as possible this weekend…” Diamond Tiara looked up at Featherweight’s parents with pleading eyes, fluttering her eyelashes for maximum effect.

“But of course, little lady!” Welterweight declared proudly, lightly pushing Featherweight out the door with a muscular foreleg in the same gambit. “Now, don’t you keep her out too long, boy,” Welterweight instructed with a smile and a tear in his eye.

“Just look at our little boy, he’s growing up so quickly,” said Lightweight.

“And you thought he was a colt-cuddler…” 

Featherweight cast a disheartened glance back at his parents, ignoring their remarks while hoping in vain they would notice something was wrong with this picture. As he heard his parent’s stifled chuckles, chased by the sound of the door creaking to a close behind him, he trotted forward to place his fate into Diamond Tiara’s vice-like hooves. Needless to say, the filly gladly accepted his company as she turned and began trotting into the street, beckoning him to follow her with a wave of her tail.

“Yetch,” she exaggerated a gag. “What was with your parents? Are they always that sappy?”

Featherweight, none too impressed at her mockery of his parents, wordlessly glared daggers at Diamond Tiara.

“Hmph, the silent treatment, huh?” Diamond Tiara shook her head in mock disappointment. She’d played this game with him before, and she knew exactly how to make him talk. “It’s just as well, I didn’t come down here to make small talk with you anyway, colt-cuddler.”

The pointed accusation struck an immediate chord in the pegasus. “Colt-cuddler? What the— I’m not a colt-cuddler!” 

“Oh, really? Then you might want to have a little chat with your parents about that, but for now, that’s going in my little black book.”

Diamond Tiara was hoping that her threat would have rendered Featherweight a whimpering mass of submissive putty. To her disdain he was still glaring daggers at her, but rectifying that was a simple matter. “Well, I guess we can always file it behind those pictures of you wearing a frilly saddle. Oh, and those love letters to—”

“Alright, alright, I get it already!” Featherweight shouted. “So, what do you want so I can get back to my weekend, you know, away from you?”

Diamond Tiara smirked in honor of her small victory over the pegasus. “First off, fix your face; I don’t like the way you’re looking at me right now. Why don’t you try smiling a little, hm? And while you’re at it I don’t much appreciate that tone in your voice.”

Featherweight stretched and strained his lips into a smile so plastic that it would have been the envy of all the cosmetic surgery enthusiasts in Canterlot. “Better?” he asked sardonically.

“Much.” Diamond Tiara stopped to leap upon a nearby bench before continuing. “Second, you don’t have a weekend anymore; I’ve got a little something that needs looking into, and I’m going to need your keen reporter’s instincts to do it. Think you’re up to it?” Diamond Tiara paused mid-thought and chuckled to herself as she realized something. “Wait, how silly of me to ask you that: you don’t even have a choice!” Reaching into her bag, the filly rooted around until she found and withdrew two small manilla folders. With a flourish, she tossed the folders to Featherweight’s hooves, splaying its contents along the ground around him.

Featherweight scowled as he swept the various papers and photographs of Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle back into their respective sleeves, pausing only as his hooves came across a particularly lengthy essay with a rather noteworthy headline on the top of the page: 

The Filly-foolers Among Us

“As you can see, I was feeling generous and did most of the work for you already. All you need to do is get a picture of those two doing… something really embarrassing— no, something scandalous, and make sure this story is the headline for the Monday edition. I also want this to be the biggest news all over Ponyville,” said Diamond Tiara.

“But, Ms. Cheerilee told us we can’t distribute the paper anywhere but on school grounds anymore,” said Featherweight.

Without missing a beat Diamond Tiara pulled out her little black book, flipped indiscriminately to a page in the middle, and cleared her throat in preparation to read. “Oh, how my heart flutters and skips whenever my eyes are blessed by the sight of your majestic flowing mane. Alas, not even Celestia’s sun can contest with your radiant beauty; those chilling, hypnotic eyes bear even more mystery than the dark side of the moon princess’ prized pearl. Oh, how I long for you, my beloved, my sweet mistress—”

“Alright! Alright! Alright! I’ll get them delivered to every newsstand, just for Celestia’s sake, stop reading!” he pleaded.

“I’m glad we were able to come to this little understanding, Featherweight. Now if you’ll excuse me—” Diamond Tiara grabbed her bag and hopped down from the bench. “—I’ve got some business to attend to elsewhere.” With that, she started to trot away, but she hadn’t taken more than two steps before Featherweight’s curiosity got the better of him.  

“Hold on a second, I have to know something.”

Diamond Tiara stopped but did not turn around to face him. Instead she stood patiently, waiting for the pegasus to speak.

“Aren’t you and Silver Spoon C.H.B.F.Fs?”

“Huh?” The acronym had taken Diamond Tiara completely off-guard. 

“Childhood Best Friends Forever,” he elaborated. 

“Oh… what of it?”

“Why are you doing this to your best friend?”

“That’s…” Featherweight noticed Diamond Tiara had grown tense and started to tremble slightly, but the filly maintained her composure long enough to issue one final demand before stomping off angrily. “That’s none of your business; now shut up and get to work.”




Anypony who had ever met Silver Spoon could testify that she was a gifted young filly who possessed a plethora of positive qualities. Among those notable qualities were her keen intellect, immaculate manners, and, as of recently, the outstanding level of maturity she possessed for a filly of her age. Despite those largely impressive achievements, due to her primarily sheltered and pampered upbringing, nowhere on that list would one find any testaments to Silver Spoon’s outstanding physical prowess. Or any physical prowess at all for that matter. 

The filly currently found herself huffing and heaving for dear life on the porch of a moderately-sized house in a strange neighborhood. Each breath she took burned her lungs like a small inferno, and her legs felt like they would fall off if she tried to even so much as stand up. This was truly a grueling moment for her.

“Hey, Silver Spoon?” called a surprisingly well-composed Sweetie Belle from the fallen filly’s side.

Silver Spoon laboriously turned her head to face the one who had rendered her to this state, waiting for Sweetie Belle to continue speaking.

“Are you alright? We only ran for a minute and a half, but you don’t look so good.”

“Oh, that? Huff— I’m just —heave— a little winded —gasp— is all,” Silver Spoon managed to choke out.

“A little winded, huh?” Sweetie Belle teased.

“Okay, so maybe —pant— so maybe I need to spend more time outside.”

The unicorn fought to stifle a giggle at Silver Spoon’s expense. “Well, let me help you up. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo are waiting for us inside.” Sweetie Belle offered a hoof to Silver Spoon, and the earth filly gladly took it. 

“Thanks Sweetie Bel—” Silver Spoon stumbled haphazardly forward on gelatin-like legs, almost falling back over. Fortunately for her, Sweetie Belle was quick on the uptake and managed to catch her in the nick of time. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you in, just lean on me,” said Sweetie Belle, as she wrapped one of Silver Spoon’s forelegs around her neck.

“H-hey, I can walk inside on my own!” 

“I know, I know.” Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and giggled at Silver Spoon’s protests as she nudged open the door before her to guide the earth pony into Scootaloo’s house. “Hold on, just a few more steps, Silver Spoon, there’s a couch right here you can catch your breath on.” 

“Thanks, Sweetie Belle,” Silver Spoon breathed while clambering onto the couch. As soon as she was settled, Silver Spoon took a moment to take in her surroundings and was absolutely blown away by the unexpected decorum that encompassed the sitting room.

 From the walls hung a plethora of cultural treasures and foreign artifacts Silver Spoon had never seen before. On her right sat a set of masterfully hoof-crafted Neighgerian Spears and intimidating masks hailing from the country of Zebrawe. To her left, the walls overflowed with the hoofwoven fruits of Alpacastan, tapestries and quilts adorned with some of the most exotic designs she’d ever laid eyes on. However, despite the impressive array of swords and various other bladed weapons of Saddle Arabian design scattered about, the true centerpiece of the room rested in the center of an old Germane coffee table: a magnificently-molded gem-encrusted looking glass shaped like a heart.

Her fatigue forgotten, Silver Spoon’s curiosity led her off the couch and drew the filly closer to the strange, captivating treasure. It seemed ridiculous to her at the time, but it was as though the odd piece of decorum was beckoning her towards it. 

“I don’t think you should get so close to that, Silver Spoon,” cautioned Sweetie Belle. “Scootaloo’s mom might get mad if we start touching her stuff.”

Silver Spoon, enraptured by the allure of the looking glass, wrote Sweetie Belle’s warning off as white noise and slowly extended a hoof outwards.

“Silver Spoon, I think you should stop,” Sweetie Belle said.

Once again her words fell on deaf ears as Silver Spoon continued to reach forward, mere inches separating her from the intriguing piece. Just as she was about to make contact, a swift light-brown blur slapped her hoof away and seized the artifact in one fluid motion.
 
“Geez, kid, what the hay is the matter with you? You can’t just wander into somepony’s house and start touching weird things… well, I mean that’s a little ironic considering I do that for a living, but you know what I mean.”
 
Silver Spoon rubbed her sore hoof tenderly as she took in the visage of the older mare before herself. She was a light, almost sandy brown pegasus with challenging, vivid magenta eyes, and a black mane that had begun graying in some areas. “Ah, I’m terribly sorry about that ma’am; I forgot myself for a moment. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
 
The mare shook her head in disappointment, before returning her gaze to Silver Spoon. “Don’t you know what could have happened if you touched the glass in the center?”
 
Silver Spoon noticed that the mare was taking extra care to avoid making any contact with the glass. “No, but—”
 
“You could have been cursed, my little pony!”
 
The mare’s ludicrous claim caused Sweetie Belle to gasp in shock, but, ever the skeptic, Silver Spoon elected to raise an unamused eyebrow.
 
“You don’t believe me, huh? You’re no fun…” The mare frowned and shook her head. “Well, I never was any good at telling jokes, but I wasn’t lying when I said that touching the glass would make something happen. You see kid, this is no ordinary bauble: it’s enchanted!”
 
Silver Spoon returned the mare’s claims with a blank stare. “What? I’m being serious this time.” The mare held the looking glass out to Silver Spoon, urging the filly to take charge of the art piece. “Go on, take it, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
 
“Oh! Oh! You should totally do it Silver Spoon!” Sweetie Belle urged. “I want to see what’ll happen.”
 
Silver Spoon rolled her eyes as she prepared to humor the odd mare at Sweetie Belle’s behest. “Fine, fine, fine.”
 
“Great! Here ya go!” The mare tossed the piece to Silver Spoon, who began to inspect it carefully with a scrutinizing eye. “Now, what you hold in your hooves is a millennia-old treasure from­ the long-lost Kingdom of ­­Unicornia ­called the Window of the Heart. But, like I’ve said before, this is no ordinary treasure. The legends say that Starswirl the Bearded himself hoofcrafted and enchanted this beauty in an effort to win the heart of a beautiful princess that he was hopelessly smitten with, claiming that the magic within the piece was so powerful that by simply touching the glass, it would recognize and bring to fruition the deepest desires of one’s heart.”
 
“What happened next?” asked Sweetie Belle.
 
“Ha, ha, well I can see at least one of you is enjoying the story.” The mare placed a forehoof on Sweetie Belle’s head and playfully began to ruffle the filly’s mane. “Anyway, the princess, much to Starswirl’s dismay, used the glass in the hopes of winning the heart of the neighboring kingdom’s prince. Needless to say, Starswirl didn’t exactly take too kindly to the princess’ decision. In an act of petty vengeance, he transmuted the princess into a newt, and hid his treasure away in a labyrinth of trap-filled catacombs, never to be seen again.”
 
“So, what happened after that?” Sweetie Belle asked.
 
 “Well, Sweetie, as you can see that cantankerous old stallion clearly didn’t hide it well enough! Why just this summer, I—”
 
“I think she meant what happened to the princess, ma’am.” said Silver Spoon.
 
Sweetie Belle quickly nodded her head to confirm Silver Spoon’s claim.
 
“Oh, that… well, nothing really happened.”
 
Sweetie Belle was absolutely puzzled, as throughout the entirety of the story she’d been expecting a fairy tale conclusion. “What do you mean nothing happened? Didn’t her prince turn her back into a pony and confess his eternal love for her?”
 
The mare almost burst out laughing, but managed to stop herself as she noticed the innocence in Sweetie Belle’s voice. It was the same innocence that a foal would bear on Hearth’s Warming morning when their parents would show them the cache of gifts Santa Claws had left them the night before, and she just didn’t have the heart to steal that away from the filly. “Uhhh… sure…” The mare rubbed the back of her head uncomfortably, making a blatant attempt to avoid eye contact with Sweetie Belle. “Right, they, uh, got married and lived happily ever after. The princess definitely did not remain a newt for the remainder of her natural life. Heh, definitely not.”
 
“Really?”
 
The mare sat down on her haunches, and placed a hoof on Sweetie Belle’s head. With a weak smile and a sincere tone, she assuaged any remaining doubts the filly might have had. “I promise.”
 
“Aww, isn’t that great, Silver Spoon?”
 
Silver Spoon was more than aware that the mare had lied to protect Sweetie Belle’s feelings, but instead of calling her on it, she smiled at her friend and went along with the act. “Yeah, it is, but I’ve still got a question.”
 
“Shoot, kid,” the mare responded.
 
“That story wasn’t just some old mare’s tale, was it?” She held the looking glass out, looking it over studiously.
 
The mare’s lips curled into an obtuse grin. “Why don’t you tell me? Try rubbing the glass and make a wish that you want to come true from the bottom of your heart.”
 
Making a wish. The very concept stopped Silver Spoon cold where she stood. Wish making was something that she, regretfully, hadn’t actually put much thought towards since her parents had the capacity and the capital to give her whatever she wished for. All she had to do was ask. After all, with the right amount of bits, anypony could attain anything their heart desired. Almost anything, anyway. 

Bits couldn’t have purchased the amnesty she’d received from Scootaloo and Apple Bloom this afternoon, after the solid year of torment and humiliation she’d put them through with Diamond Tiara. Gems couldn’t have purchased the courage it took to stand up to her control-hungry former childhood best friend forever. And all the wealth in Equestria couldn’t have garnered the much-welcomed trust of the optimistic unicorn staring impatiently at her with wide, curious emerald eyes.

 While she hadn’t wished for the day’s events to play out as they did, she couldn’t totally deny that there had to have been some outside force pushing her through the motions. Maybe there was something to this wishing business after all. Besides that —Silver Spoon chanced a glance at Sweetie Belle’s bewildered face and suppressed a nervous smirk from spreading across her lips— there was nothing wrong with a little personal interest, was there? “I think I’m ready.”

 “What’re you gonna wish for?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Hmm… I’ll bet it’s a— ”

“Sweetie,” interrupted the expert on the looking glass. “If she tells you, then it might not come true.”        

“Awww… fine.” Sweetie Belle pouted and crossed her forelegs. “I’ll just wait to see what comes up.”

“Which reminds me, you figured out what you’re gonna wish for yet, kid?”

“Something like that,” Silver Spoon muttered. “Well, here goes, I guess.” Silver Spoon placed her hoof on the lens and slowly began to caress the cool surface of the glass. As she continued to rub the ornament, it began to emit a faint, almost unnoticeable glow that grew in intensity with each sweep. Silver Spoon could feel the looking glass growing lighter in her hooves, and instinctively released her grip on the artifact. Much to her surprise, it stayed suspended in the air, shining twice as brightly as before. The light was now officially blinding her along with the other spectators, but snuffed itself out as quickly as it flared up, landing on the floor with a dull thud. 

“Wow, it really does work!” said Sweetie Belle.

“But that’s weird…” remarked the looking glass’ owner.

“What’s weird?” asked Sweetie Belle

“Nothing’s weird in here, that’s what’s weird!”

Sweetie Belle scratched her head in confusion at the mare’s statement. “How is nothing weird, weird?”

“Well, think about it, if she just made a wish, something weird should have happened, right?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right!” Sweetie Belle scanned the room, searching for some minute change to the surrounding area, yet for her troubles, she found nary a speck of dust out of place, “Huh, I don’t think that thing worked. Dumb wishing glass.” 

“Hey kid, just out of curiosity, what did you wish for?”

Silver Spoon smirked. “Well, if I tell you now, then it won’t come true, right?” 

“Very cute…” the mare grumbled flatly.

“Mom!” shouted a angry familiar voice from the nearby stairwell. “What are you doing!?” Scootaloo, followed by Apple Bloom, galloped haphazardly into the room with a particularly heavy saddlebag hanging from her back, stopping at the hooves of the light brown mare whom she shot a glare at almost immediately.

“Oh, hey honey. I was just showing your little friends here some neat stuff from my latest expeditions. Maybe you and Apple Bloom would like to stick around for the story of King Mutt’s cursed tomb and—”

“Blegh!” Scootaloo interrupted. “A story about history? Maybe some other time, mom. Right now, we’ve got cutie marks to earn; isn’t that right Crusaders?”

“Yeah!” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle cheered in tandem.

“Alright, alright,” Scootaloo’s mother chuckled. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful out there, okay? I‘ve got a lot of packing to do for an expedition in the ruins of Pegasopolis next week, I don’t want to have to come get you from the emergency room.”

 “Fine, mom.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes.

“That’s my girl.” Scootaloo’s mother leaned and planted swift kiss atop her daughter’s head, before heading up the stairs.

“Ewww…” Scootaloo began to swat at her forehead in a futile attempt to wipe away her mother’s kiss. 

“Hey, did you guys already get whatever you came for?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Yeah,” replied Apple Bloom. “We got a couple of ropes and a bunch of weird lookin’ harnesses and stuff from upstairs, but Scootaloo still won’t tell me what we’re gonna be doin’ with it.”

“Ropes and… harnesses?” Silver Spoon mused aloud. Something about these items and their intended location of use just didn’t sit right with the filly. “What could you possibly do with that stuff in the Everfree forest to earn a cutie mark?”

“Ugh, for the last time: you’ll find out when we get there. Geez, don’t any of you like surprises? Now come on, we’ll take my scooter and wagon.”

“Seriously, Scootaloo, can’t you at least give us a hint?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Nuh-uh.”

“C’mon, not even a teeny tiny little hint?”

“Nope.” Scootaloo opened the front door and walked outside, her inquisitive friends still prattling off questions behind her.

Silver Spoon took one last glance around the room, her attention landing on the fallen looking glass, and thought back to Scootaloo’s mother, incurring the biggest fit of déjà vu she’d ever experienced. Where had she seen her before? 

“Silver Spoon, hurry up and get out here, we’re waiting on you!”

“Oh, coming!” Silver Spoon gave one last glance at the looking glass and dashed out to catch up with her new friends. There were so many questions left unanswered, but time would reveal the answers eventually. For now, the most pressing matter on her mind was how exactly a rope and a harness would help her new friends discover their special talents. A small pit began to grow in her stomach as she contemplated it further, but she already had a sinking feeling that something was going to go horribly, horribly wrong. She just couldn’t put her hoof on what it was just yet.

Chapter 3 End