A lot of things were wrong with Ponyville.
After having her thirty-eight breakdown (this week), Twilight Sparkle realized she would either have to get used to the wrongness – or perish by it. Therefore, she elected to ignore the pony drama, illogical behavior, and lack of proper procedure.
Which was why she did not flinch, blow her top, or stammer. She simply lifted her head, looked at Spike's mouth, curved her own mouth up, and asked: “Could you repeat that, Spike?”
“I think the caves behind the town are haunted,” Spike said.
Twilight kept on smiling.
Haunted caves. Of course.
“Really?” she asked and looked back to the pages of Codex Gentes Obscure Equitum.
“...and stuff has been disappearing...” she missed the first part, and now she missed half a paragraph. Twilight closed her eyes, held the book open with her hoof, and looked up.
“Sorry, Spike,” she stretched the corners of her mouth further, the way she saw Pinkie do it. “Can you say that again?
“Stuff has been disappearing?” Spike said uncertainly. “A lot of ponies talk about it.”
He frowned.
“You really should get out more.”
Twilight nodded. The mouth thing was getting painful.
“So... what is this about the caves?” she asked. Her memory was still reshuffling, trying to keep up with new information and a few hours of speed reading.
“Ponies have been hearing weird sounds from them,” Spike repeated. “Yelling, crashing... They also found trails of hoofprints going in and out.”
The last page was still burned into Twilight’s mind. Of course, a scholar would never believe in fate... but there was still a giddy little filly deep inside her as well. Despite that, she asked the next question in a measured, flat tone:
“Would those be very small hoof prints, by any chance?”
“How did you know?” Spike’s jaw dropped as Twilight jumped up.
She hovered the book in a general direction of Spike’s face. The rest of her mind and magic was busy summoning an array of items from all across the library.
“Gnome Ponies,” Spike read and massaged his nose. “Also known as Gnomies. Elusive equine creatures who live near other ponies’ settlements and steal their belongings. Minuscule, noisy, and annoying.”
“And!” Twilight giggled as her things filled her saddlebags, and pointed to the bottom of the page.
“Status: Extinct,” Spike finished and shrugged. “I guess that’s it, then.”
“Yes!” Twilight clapped her hooves with excitement. “We found an extinct species! Let’s go!”
Spike followed her out of the door. When he caught up to her, he told her the caves were the other way and sprinted after her as she took off.
“Which is, Spike, why all of this fits so well! Look! Little hoofprints!” Twilight clapped her own hooves excitedly.
“That could just be foal’s or filly’s,” the dragon objected.
“Come now,” Twilight said with a dismissive chuckle. “What kind of foal would take random things and hide in a cave?”
“I–” Spike tried to square his personal experience with the general hearsay. “Most of them?”
“Did I ever do anything like that?” Twilight asked resolutely.
“No, but you’re kinda bor—” Spike stopped himself.
“Has anypony else from Canterlot ever done anything like that?” Twilight went on.
“Not that I know of, but–”
“Well, there you go, Spike!” the unicorn said resolutely. “Ponies don’t do that! Unless they are Gnome Ponies!”
She giggled as she zipped towards the cave entrance.
Spike has learned a long time ago not to try to stop a rolling avalanche. It would be much better to get out of the way and help deal with the damage.
“And now...” a booming voice echoed above the crowd, “we come to the final match of the evening! You know them, you love them — but which one do you love most?”
The announcer, standing in the middle of the ring, spun around and pointed.
“In the pink corner!” she rumbled. “Her weight might be a secret, but not her wit — put your hooves together for the pale magician, Fuuuuuurious Nightblooooom!”
The audience exploded with cheers and hooves stomping on the cavern floor. The unicorn strutted into the light and spun around like she owned the place. The jeers and boos would come later. Nightbloom was an excellent heel.
“And in the cyan corner, the crimson-maned mare of mayhem! She’ll promise you a prosperous tomorrow — and then buck your right into it! It’s no other than A~apple-licioussss!”
The fighters slowly walked to the center of the ring, throwing each other furious stares and friendly smiles. The announcer reached up to them, and hissed:
“No ad equum, no strawmares!”
They nodded, and the announcer stepped back.
“Aaaaan they’re off!” The mares circled each other, spiraling closer and closer. The audience quietened down, waiting for the first contact.
There it was.
Applelicious started to open her mouth and lift her hoof in a friendly greeting. But the moment she did, Nightbloom dashed in and grabbed her by the hoof, pumping it up and down.
“Applelicious, dear, darling!” she chirped. “It is simply delightful to see you back so soon! I would never have thought you would get over your last debacle so quickly—!”
As she gasped for breath, the audience oohed. Applelicious’ defeat and subsequent crawl through the losers’ bracket were still fresh in everypony’s minds.
“Nonsense, sweetie!” the earth pony replied jovially, and gripped the unicorn hoof, slowly turning it until her own was on the top of the hoof-shake. A classic move.
“I’ve never felt better, being here with you, in front of this amazing audience!”
With her other hoof, she pumped the air to the adoring shouts from the gallery. Nightbloom winced and pried her hoof from her opponent’s iron grasp.
“As brash as ever, I see,” the unicorn cleared an imaginary speck of dust from her coat, puffed her hair, and adopted a regal pose.
“Tell me,” she said. “Have you finally come up with an answer to my question?”
The crowd began to murmur as the unicorn pierced the earth pony with an icy glare, a cruel smile playing on her lip.
“Well?” she inquired. “Or have you forgotten?”
She licked her lip.
“Let me refresh your memory,” she took a deep breath.
“To quote:”
She went off at a breakneck speed:
“There is a runaway trolley barreling down the railway tracks. Ahead on the tracks are five copies of Diamond Tiara – each one more vile and slap–worthy than the next. The trolley is headed straight for them. You are standing next to a lever. If you pull it, the trolley will switch to a different track – but there's another pony on that track! A version of Diamond Tiara who, through self–growth, learned humility and accepted friendship into her heart!”
The mare gasped for air, then laughed maniacally.
“Now tell me, Applelicious!” she barked. “Which of these ponies would you — by action or inaction — lay to waste?!”
She stepped towards her opponent, poking her with her hoof.
“Would you sacrifice the five ponies who could, in time, become as pure and selfless as the reformed Diamond Tiara?”
She grinned and waited.
Applelicious said nothing, simply stared her opponent in the face.
“I came to finally hear your answer,” Nightbloom whispered as loud as possible, “but I see I once again come to nothing.”
She slammed her hoof down in triumph and announced: “I defeat you now as I defeated you before — with the Ultimate Tiara Question!”
She turned on her hoof to the audience’s cheers and began to walk away.
Something clapped against the stone. Something firm and hard, like a hoof of a giant. Or an angry earth pony.
“The tired old Tiara Question, eh?” Applelicious split the ensuing silence.
Nighbloom looked across her shoulder. Her opponent was half-hidden in a soft fog coming from the cave’s entrance.
“Why don’t we ask—” Applelicious began and stood on her hind legs. She spun around in a wild flourish and pointed behind herself.
“Diamond Tiara herself?!?!?!” she finished triumphantly.
The cave entrance lit up with an effort of several unicorn foals. The fog thinned, revealing none other than Diamond Tiara herself, strutting into the ring, head held high.
“Wait, what—” Nightbloom blurted out.
“—Or should I say,” Applelicious dug in and pointed. “Your long-lost sister?!”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Scootaloo screamed as she ran into the middle of the ring.
“Applebloom!” she pleaded. “You can’t just bring in Diamond Tiara! We talked about this!”
“But I couldn’t think of anything else!” Applebloom defended herself. “Sweetie’s thing was just too hard, I had to find something to throw her off—”
“And Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo interrupted her other friend. “Don’t you think the Diamond Question—”
“The Ultimate Tiara Question!”
“Whatever!” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s getting old?”
She looked across the room and threw her hooves in the air.
“Aren’t we supposed to talk about what you’d do if you were elected the class president?”
Applebloom blinked.
“Is that the thing we were talking about?” she asked.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo said. “That’s what this whole debate is supposed to be about!”
She rubbed her face with her hoof and muttered: “How did I get roped into this?”
“Oh you like it,” Diamond Tiara said. “Don’t lie!”
“Don’t you care about them talking about running you over by a train?” Scootaloo pleaded.
“Not really,” Diamond Tiara shrugged. “I’m getting a year’s worth of homemade apple pies from this. Do you even know how much apples are worth these days?”
Scootaloo groaned and turned to the audience: “Don’t you ponies even care about who has the best arguments?!”
It was amazing how many ponies suddenly found something interesting anywhere other than in her general direction.
“See? They don’t!” Sweetie clapped her hoof on the ground and turned back to Applebloom. With a voice raised, she picked up where she left off.
“My sister?!” she intoned. “How quaint! What you do not know is that I am, in fact, adopted! Therefore, she is Rarity’s sister!”
“Nay!” Tiara objected, stepping forward. “For it is my mother who gave birth to you, in secret!”
The crowd gasped, and the cave entrance exploded.
The space filled with dust and smoke in seconds. Ponies screamed and rushed to wherever they thought the closest exit was. They stumbled, fell, and bounced right back up.
“There!” a high–pitched voice commanded. “There’s one! Catch it!”
Sweetie Belle felt a whip of magic rushing towards her. Her horn flared up instinctively and the spell’s focus veered sideways, vaporizing routines showering her side with sparks.
“Look out!” she screamed back, as a dark figure rose in the mist in front of her.
“Ha!” the thing barked, and twitched. “They know magic! Take a note!”
Sweetie tried to stop, but the figure grew too large, too fast.
She slammed into it and tumbled over it, foaming and flailing. Then, something hit her from behind, and then, another one. The ball of Crusaders rolled over the fallen creature and sprinted to the door.
“Are you okay, Twilight?”
The unicorn coughed and rolled onto her belly. She wheezed and coughed for a few moments. Then, with her friends’ claw’s help, she pulled herself up onto shaky hooves.
“Did you—” she gasped for breath. “Did you get the license plate of that chariot, Spike?”
“Twilight, I think those were just ponies...”
“You’re right!” the unicorn perked up, winced, and perked up again. She wheezed: “The Gnome Ponies!”
Pain notwithstanding, she started hobbled to the entrance and screamed:
“Hey! Come back! I have to ask you about your society and stuff!”
Spike bit his lip and followed outside. He found Twilight standing at the cave’s entrance, looking around maniacally.
“Oh come on!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “Please! I wanna write a thesis on you!”
She stopped, her lip quivering, and fell to the ground.
Applebloom’s hoof, firmly placed over Sweetie’s mouth, shook. She looked through the hole between the rocks. Twilight Sparkle was lying on the ground now, sobbing. Spike was next to her, muttering something into her ear, his claw brushing her mane.
“It’s not fair,” Applebloom heard. “I was sure this would be the day!”
Spike muttered something. The unicorn wasn’t listening.
“I could have finally done something for Ponyville! Then maybe I could get everypony to stop hating me!” Twilight moaned. “Maybe finding a long-gone race could have impressed the princess! Maybe she’d take me back!”
The rest was lost in a fresh wave of sobs.
Applebloom closed her eyes.
She opened them a second later when she heard a rustle of rocks.
Scootaloo was standing up.
And so was Sweetie Belle, twisting her way from under Applebloom's hoof.
Another noise behind her, and Applebloom jumped up like a spring.
She wouldn’t be beaten to this by Diamond Tiara.
Twilight looked at the four silhouettes in the mist. She felt her lip quiver. They were… so small… like fillies… She blinked her tears away as the mist broke.
“Hi, Twilight...” Sweetie Belle said. “I guess we’re in trouble, huh?”
“Bwuh?” Twilight replied.
“We’re sorry,” Scootaloo continued.
“Yeah,” Applebloom said. “About the clothes we borrowed and everything.”
They looked at the fourth pony. Diamond Tiara frowned, looked back at them, and at Twilight.
“I’m not sorry,” she said resolutely. “I had nothing to do with this. They paid me.”
“So… is that what happened?” Twilight asked, and sipped her tea. She snuggled deeper into the mountain of blankets as the fillies nodded.
“That’s all of it. Honest,” Applebloom said.
“So you made... a fight club,” Twilight restated.
“It’s called the ‘arena of politics’,” Sweetie Belle clarified. “Where ponies argue about stuff and try to make the audience cheer them on!”
Twilight sipped her tea.
“And is that something you’d really want to have a cutie mark in?” she asked defeatedly.
The fillies frowned.
“I don’t know,” Scootaloo mumbled, and smiled. “But it was fun to be the announcer...”
“And the heel!” Sweetie joined in.
“And having the ponies cheer for us!” Applebloom finished.
It was their turn to sip. Twilight looked out of the window and sighed.
“But now that we’ve read that book,” Sweetie Belle said, “we kinda know where we went wrong....”
Twilight glanced at her copy of Proper Pony Political Procedure by Pencil Pusher.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo confirmed. “The real politics isn’t like that at all!”
“It sound so boring!” Sweetie Belle nodded vigorously. “No fighting, arguing, no spectacle…”
“Just sitting around doing office work?” Applebloom added. “We don’t want to do that!”
Something heavy rolled off of Twilight’s chest.
“You don’t?” she asked weakly.
“No!” the Crusaders called out in unison, their teacups clinking on the table.
The librarian smiled.
“Well,” she started, “I think we all learned a bit today. I learned that we—”
But the fillies were gone already, heading out for some new adventure.