Daily Equestria Life With Monster Girl

by Estee


Disconnected

It was the concept which startled the girl almost as much as the action: the mere idea that anypony among the group might freely approach her. The white unicorn came closer, the expression (which the girl had labored to learn) suggested that the mare wished to talk, and the centaur's hooves nearly skittered towards the right edge of the rough forest path.

Nearly. She managed to repress most of it, but there was a portion of kinetic energy left over: enough to let four legs half-execute what almost felt like an aborted dance step, and a few stray pebbles bounced off the metal which covered her keratin.

She had to be more careful about her reactions: all of them. The full Moon was in the sky, and her mind was aware that the reaction was psychosomatic -- but her body continued to ignore the presence of the orbital satellite's capital letter. With centaurs, it was an amplifier: everything about you became more so. And with Cerea, whose thoughts had already been circling as a possible prelude to the full spiral, who was supposed to calm herself and center before entering Tartarus and nopony had told her how that could ever be accomplished...

The girl didn't feel like she could explain the effects of the moonlight. It would just be another difference: one more thing to make her that much more alien. Her best excuse would have been to blame it on the espresso -- except that there were no traces of coffee scent rising from any of the Bearers. Cerea was fairly sure she would wind up needing to explain espresso.

There was a single moment before she managed to regain control of herself, continued advancing along the trail in her half-slumped slow trot. But the white mare kept approaching. Found a place alongside Cerea's left flank, just about parallel with the girl's foreshoulders. The unicorn looked up...

It wasn't exactly a stare. There was a certain regard in that gaze: something which felt familiar. It was as if the little shifts of the pony's eyes were being used as a means of taking measurements, and the centaur waited to come up short --

-- the unicorn adjusted her accompanying position. Tilted her neck up, seemed to check as to whether her angle was a comfortable one. The scarf shifted again.

It was easy to make out the finer details of the mare's scent, under the moonlight. There was an aspect of fear, but the posture did its best to turn that into some level of lie --

-- it would take a little time before Cerea recognized what was happening with the mare's various postures. The vast majority of ponies treated clothing as an optional exercise. Even with the chill of the forest to contend against, most of the Bearers weren't wearing all that much: a few saddle blankets (without saddles), cloaks and throws, and jackets which had been redesigned for the horizontal. Spike was the most bundled-up of the group (and Cerea had been wondering if the little reptile was only partially endothermic), but the white unicorn was close behind: pleasant winter garments, lightly fringed at the base of neck and tail, with warmth wrapped around nearly the full length of the legs. Fabric formed an insulative layer between hooves and protective metal. The colors were well-balanced for both the unicorn and the forest: dark hues, things which stood out considerably less than the fur...

The white unicorn wore her clothing naturally, as if it was something she did all the time. And most ponies had their body language partially obscured by fabric, because they simply weren't used to it. (It did nothing to stop the scents.) This mare automatically exaggerated every shift of her body, and that pushed her projected feelings through the barrier.

It was something which gave her a light air of Drama. The verbal aspects of her fear had mostly been buried under a thick layer of Manners.

"I wish to apologize," Rarity softly began: words pitched up, aimed carefully at strangely-positioned ears and silver wire. "May I begin with that?"

Cerea blinked. Wondered just how universal blinking-as-sign-of-confusion was across all species, realized she'd been over that subject before, she was distracting herself because it was a way not to think about the words --

The centaur looked down. The pony was looking up, and the second blue gaze was the steadier.

"I fail to perceive any need for apology," Cerea quietly decided. "Thou hast done nothing which would cause offense."

The unicorn shook her head. A gesture which definitely crossed species and worlds, although it had managed to skip both Greece and Bulgaria. Cerea suspected Iran just liked being contrary.

"We were supposed to meet much earlier," Rarity stated, and there was a light touch of sadness in both tone and scent. "I was asked to meet you: the Princesses made that request. The first of us to make contact. And I refused." The mare's head dipped for a moment, looked towards where the pegasi were trotting before shifting up again. "There was... a reason for that. One I will explain. But I didn't use the first chance to meet you, and... I feel somewhat ashamed."

There was a full Moon, and Tartarus ahead. Cerea had to make a deliberate effort to keep her eyelids from demonstrating some level of Morse code.

The Princesses wanted a Bearer to...

"Why wouldst thou have been summoned?"

White ears twitched. Tilted towards Cerea, went back for a moment, centered again.

"A question," Rarity offered. "As I'm not entirely familiar with the operations of your translator. When I speak, do you hear any level of accent?"

Mid-Atlantic. It's like that one movie about the department store.
...the first half.

For once, it hadn't been a battery problem for the portable DVD player. The battered disc had simply been too scratched to go on.

"Yes."

The unicorn nodded. "And the same for the others?"

American South for Applejack. Spike and Twilight both sound like they're from Kanagawa. Fluttershy's is faded, but there's little traces left: sometimes her 'the' loses the h. Rainbow almost comes across like a first-time actress in an old Western. Trixie is... patchwork. Like someone who's traveled a lot, and brought back linguistic pieces from everywhere -- but the base is Ibaraki. And Pinkie mostly sounds like small-town America, but she slips. When that happens, she comes across like the FBI woman in that one old horror movie with the criminal who -- skinned people. Someone who grew up in coal country and doesn't want to sound like that any more.

The verbal end of that emerged as "Yes."

"Then, speaking as someone who affects an accent," the unicorn gently said, "I know that some respond to stress by having their tones sharpen." And followed that with a soft sigh. "Intensifying. In my case, the intonations have a sadly proven tendency to evaporate in the heat of stress, but -- yours are becoming thicker. And that is before we reach the formality of your terms. The disc labors, I am certain of that -- and yet, you are becoming progressively more difficult to understand." And then there was a smile -- but it came across as something tinged by sorrow. "Breathe, Cerea. Please.."

It took a second before the girl could fully restart her lungs. The Second Breath was tested again. Recently-cut hair vibrated against the barrier of the pins.

"You're going to trot into Tartarus," Rarity sadly observed, words still pitched for the centaur's ears alone. "It's not exactly a situation where I can ask you to relax. But with me -- there is no animosity. I swear to that." With a sigh, "I will confess to tinges of dread, but... that doesn't seem to be something I can entirely stop. Not just yet." The ears flicked back, surged forward. "It's an association with the base shape. Rather like having had one's first encounter with the lupine configuration as an attack from the fleshed version of a wolf, and then encountering a rather large dog. The first impression lingers. As do the scars. And so the subconscious tries to put in a word. I..."

Her head dipped again, and the large eyes reflected Moon in fresh moisture.

"...I nearly lost my sister..."

It wasn't me.
I'm not him.
I...
...you look at me and you see a giant hoof descending. The tiara going up just to cause a little pain, trying to do something before it all ends. The glints of light reflecting off metal.
Fancypants said you were all closing in.
How close were you?
How close did you come to watching her die?

The white mare swallowed. Shivered, and then looked up again.

"But the rational mind can try to hold sway," Rarity continued. "I am doing my best not to fear you. But Applejack and I both saw the film -- well, we had to, as relatives of those who attended. There are ways in which that could be considered as our first meeting. But I would rather have a more personal one, I put off what should have been the true first, and... I don't hate you. Please, Cerea. I simply wish to talk..."

Two sets of shoulders slumped within the armor.

Just above a whisper, "I don't even know what I sound like."

"For accent, with your words rendered by the disc?" the unicorn guessed. "Just now? It's something of a mix. Rather like a sweet-voiced minotaur who's spent significant time in the southern provinces of Prance, tinged with a recent stay in Neighpon." (The girl's mind had enough to worry about, and so the place names mostly streamed over the armor.) "Rather unique. And you were comprehensible. But I suspect it all becomes stronger when the stress rises." The smile took on additional weight. "And speaking as somepony who must often pretend to be calm, and has been known to fail... try to breathe. It all comes from the lungs, from the air. Simply allow yourself to feel your breath."

The smaller eyes closed, leaving the centaur moving on lingering sensory impressions, something which had become so sharp under Moon. Moved, and -- breathed. Over and over.

The first.
The Second.

Over and over...

Cerea quietly nodded. Straightened, just a little.

"Why were we supposed to meet? Do the Guards usually work with Bearers?" A means of becoming acquainted with a potential temporary partner.

Rarity shook her head. "I had been asked to make your dress. The one for the party." And with a sharp intake of air, "Sun and Moon, that was last night. Just last night. So much happening in so little time..."

...somepony in an elite tactical unit makes dresses?

She hadn't really paid any attention to icons during the briefing, and so the forest trail represented several of the scant times when Cerea tried to subtly check a pony's mark. But turning enough for a true view would have required assuming what humans considered to be unnatural angles and in any case, there was clothing in the way.

...well, anypony can have hobby skills. Given how Cerea had felt about the amount of skin and fur displayed by what she'd received from the professionals, there seemed to be a reasonable chance that Rarity couldn't have done any worse.

The group moved on. Bare branches waved in a slight breeze, and the wind chilled the centaur's skin. She didn't want to look at the trees. There was always something a little strange about trees in winter. It was like looking at a skeleton when the bones had plans to put their flesh back on in four months.

But at least the wind had made a sound. No birdsong. No little skitters from claws moving over bark. The gust hadn't conveyed a single animal scent to Cerea's senses. It was just trotting and talk.

"It was Fluttershy," Rarity stated, and there was a weariness in the words -- something which was nearly drowned under the scents of regret and sorrow. "She is not as skilled with needle and device, but... when it comes to sewing, she indulges on something more than a casual level. Some of it may come from stitching wounds. And for fabric... the creative aspects of the profession elude her, but she can manage nearly any form of basic repair. And executing the designs of another? Almost automatic. Something about the solitude of it appeals to her, I think. And with all of the demands on her time, I have always done my best not to add to them by asking for her assistance. But she learned of the request. And with that? I had an assistant. Whether I wished for one or not. Hovering about for hours, waiting to see what I would do. And where." Which was followed by a soft snort. "Part of me dearly wishes to blame Fleur for having taken over so many of the basic duties. Fluttershy never used to have this much free time."

There didn't seem to be anything Cerea could say.

"She's been trying to reach you," the unicorn tiredly continued. "For moons. And it is so much harder to turn her away, to ask that she even leave for a time, not when... she's in mourning. When we're all trying to watch her, as much as we can. To try and prevent matters from becoming any worse." Two shallow breaths, and then, "She's made it rather clear that she blames herself for what happened to Discord. And... it's what the Princess said. Fluttershy has a hard time dealing with her anger, and... she's rather more proactive in her endeavors than most would suspect." The softest of laughs. "Or so we were reminded when it turned out that she had been the aggressor in the relationship. She wanted to reach you. Because Tirek could not be reached, and... you were there. A target. Some part of her knows you're the wrong one, I'm sure of that. But... she has a pattern. One rendered in the thin hot needles of agony. She buries her anger, her sorrow, buries it deep until capacity is reached and then... it all comes out at once. And she knows it's a flaw, she tries to deal with it, express herself more normally, but..."

The elaborate tail curls slowly swayed. Stilled.

"...she faces death more than any of us," Rarity went on. "Again and again, in the course of her duties."

Maybe Fluttershy is the assassin.
She moves quietly enough.

"And we thought... that would help," the mare finished. "It did not. Because she blamed herself. It was personal." A sigh, and then a whisper, "I spoke to the others earlier, while she was with the Doctors Bear. We will all be on watch when the Gate opens. Because you are not her true target. Simply a rather convenient excuse, and -- she will recognize that in time, I think. But when the Gate opens -- it will provide a path to the real one. And even with everything which was said at the briefing... she might try to follow you in."

no
just me
it has to be just me
trotting into torment
she's been through enough

The centaur checked the trail ahead, because it was easier than looking at the white mare. The trees seemed to be thinning. Branches curved, bent back on themselves. There were places where bark had splintered --

-- the yellow pegasus was looking back at her. At them, with blue-green eyes shifting from pony to centaur --

-- it was just for a moment, and then a neighboring cyan wing flared out enough to nudge her. Fluttershy turned forward again. Trotted on.

A few seconds later, Trixie silently wandered by on Cerea's right, and then passed out of sight. Patrolling the perimeter, beating the bounds.

The white unicorn softly cleared her throat: a sort of subvocal 'ahem' which still managed to have an accent attached. Cerea looked down again.

"You were kind to my sister," Rarity decided. "That... means rather a lot, I think."

"You saw the film." (The unicorn nodded.) "I yelled at them --"

"-- for a moment," the mare broke in. "And then you were sorry. And then you sang." A slow blink, clearing away a little more moisture. "And after you sang, after she returned to our parents... the nightmares were less frequent. Children heal more readily than adults, I think. But she still needed something more than the therapy sessions, and... she sleeps more steadily, Cerea. Take from that what you will."

I just...
...I yelled...
...any centaur could sing --
-- well, any mare.

Awkwardly, because the unicorn's ear position was clearly expecting a response, "I felt like she wanted to sing along. She was... the one who seemed to be paying the most attention to the notes."

With a sigh, "She's reluctant to perform in public. Still. Nothing to do with you, Cerea. Just -- something she's been trying to work through for a long time."

The larger eyes moved over the girl's body again. Bottom to top, front to back. Measuring.

"You wear a bra, do you not?" the unicorn politely asked. "At your size, I'd imagine it would be mandatory." With another soft, seemingly subconscious snort, "Something for which the creation meant the palace did not contact me. Perhaps due to the previous fiasco..."

Everyone looks a little bigger in armor --

-- the centaur blinked.

"You've made bras?" You've met female minotaurs? You've sized them --

-- the unicorn shook her head, and the last hope prior to Tartarus crashed into the cold ground.

"A dear friend asked me to create sandals for one of her own companions," Rarity said. "The process and results were the fiasco. Because I was in no way prepared to deal with feet." There was a light shudder. "And I tried to use a rather reluctant model. Spike and I have finally reached the point where we can laugh about it."

Her head tossed for a moment. The mare looked forward.

"But walking claws are perfectly lovely!" she called out.

The little reptile giggled. One hand released his sibling's mane, and he awkwardly leaned towards one of her open saddlebags.

"And after that failed," the unicorn sighed, "Rugula still had faith in my skills. So she asked me to help another of her friends. I, being rather slow to learn from a bad experience, got as far as researching the basic design requirements before a mission rather thankfully took us out of the country, as well as beyond the temporal window for filling the order. So to date, all of my lingerie has been for ponies. At any rate, bras. You wear them?"

A very dedicated hobbyist?

It distantly occurred to Cerea that there was a chance to spend her entire life without ever seeing one of the local minotaur females or hearing about their relative level of endowment. Also that there was a slightly stronger possibility that the entire world was conspiring to make that happen.

It was something of a lesser torment.

...the unicorn was waiting.

"Yes."

"I've heard of Ms. Garter," Rarity declared. "As that was where the ultimate rerouting of the order ended. But I've never seen her creations." Thoughtfully, "Of course, her talent is rather more specialized than the usual. I doubt I would be able to render anything in the way of improvements. Still, the curiosity is there..."

There was a sort of traveling shrug, and then the unicorn gently smiled again.

"If the topic makes you uncomfortable," Rarity offered, "we can change it."

Another gust of wind, and the scent of ink filled Cerea's nostrils.

"Um..." the centaur managed.

"I mean no discomfort," the mare said. "I am simply trying to both look past your form and find some means of appreciating it -- well, other than in the decidedly easy appreciation of some rather fine legs. Although, meaning no offense again, I did happen to notice that you would benefit from a professional hoofticure. There is a spa I can recommend --"

She stopped. Winced.

"-- another time, perhaps. In any case, I have some experience with the process of seeing beyond the body. When one is the subject of a dragon's crush --"

All four of Cerea's hooves stumbled, doing so in the exact same beat. Some degree of motion maintained.

She'd recently learned that she had an accent. And it took what felt like everything she had to keep her volume down, make the next two syllables into something which only the unicorn would hear, but her entire body had gone tight at once and --

"-- dragon?"

-- she was now wondering if she also had a squeak.

Dragons.
They have dragons.
...okay, we have dragons.
..arrogant flying won't-take-no-for-an-answer connards, Miia was angry for days --
-- but theirs are probably the classic kind.
The St. George kind.
Giants. Metric tons. A lot of metric tons. Anger and greed and flame --
...the sword is plastic.
Plastic melts --

Rarity blinked.

"You didn't know?"

Multiple hairpins nearly came out.

The unicorn placidly inclined her head. Using the horn to point.

"Dragon," she said.

Cerea, who didn't seem to have the strength required to be shocked by that level of coincidence, slowly, skittishly followed the indicated line...

...Spike had a scroll pinned against Twilight's neck: one handling claw was holding both it and her mane. The other was busy with a quill.

"...that's a dragon," emerged on a current of disbelief.

"They get bigger." Which was followed by an exceptionally small smile. "With both luck and love, that happens in the normal course and at a proper speed. Spike is a dragon, Cerea. And also a birthright citizen of Equestria. We're not all ponies. I imagine you'll remind us all of that again in a few years --" followed by, much more hastily "-- although of course, the goal is to find a means of sending you home. My apologies. I did not mean to suggest a reordering of priorities."

It wasn't discussed at the briefing.
They don't know.
...that's a dragon?
He's so... small...

The rept -- dragon finished. Stoppered the ink bottle, put it and the cleaned quill away. Turned his head to the side.

"Sending," Spike quietly told the group. Several ponies nodded, the entire group stopped moving (and Cerea got her legs halted just in time), multiple bodies tensed, and he brought the scroll up in front of thin pursed lips --

-- there wasn't very much heat in the flame, and perhaps that was why the scroll didn't truly catch fire. Instead, it simply seemed to evaporate. Matter become smoke, which thinned to steam, which brightened into light --

-- gone.

A few seconds passed, and then the ponies relaxed.

"...good," Rarity breathed. "Another use of magic without -- drawing in an attack. Somehow. Not that we can be sure, but..."

Communications magic. Teleporting the scroll without going along. A form of travel which took time -- but the Princesses would have the paper within seconds. Cerea wondered what Princess Celestia's version of the casting looked like --

-- she has to know the recipient.

"Cerea?"

She said that. If she doesn't know them, the scroll can become lost...

"Dear," the unicorn rather urgently said, "you're shivering. If the cold is coming through the metal -- I'm not carrying as much as I usually would, but I'm sure I packed an extra scarf --"

"-- the ibex," fell out of a barely-open mouth, and she looked down just in time to see the unicorn frown.

"The what?" Rarity asked -- and then her eyes widened. "Was that in one of the articles? The word seems familiar. I'm almost certain that I've read it at least once --"

"-- another species," Cerea softly said. "One which... isn't in contact with Equestria any more. I -- I don't know if they can be alerted. Not the way Spike did it, or how Princess Celestia works the spell. They don't know..."

They're in the mountains. There's no embassy. No point of contact. No one anypony knows. And if there's no gatehouse, then there's no safe place for a teleport to arrive.
How could they be warned? Pegasi flying at top speed, trying to stay ahead of the drain? What if there aren't any couriers left?
When will the mountains know? When they see him coming? And that'll be easy, when he's swollen with enough power to put his eyes on a level with the terraces.
What can they do?
Shelter?
Run?
Try to join everyone else, at the very last?
What could an ibex do against Tirek?
What can anyone...

It was so easy to see it. Hear it. Hooves scrambling on sheer slopes, trying to reach safety.
The laughter.
The drain.
Magic fails. Gravity takes over.
And the ibex would fall.

She heard the unicorn swallow.

"The palace will find a way," Rarity said, and the disc helpfully rendered every inner tremble within the syllables. "I'm certain that the Princesses have already been thinking about the matter. But if it comforts you, the words can be placed into the next scroll."

Cerea just barely managed a nod. Trotting resumed.

"I feel as if I'm rather dominating the conversation," Rarity eventually took over. "Something I've been told is a frequent problem." The scarf's free end tossed again. "Is there anything you'd like to say?" Bright eyes helpfully locked onto those of the girl. "Ask?"

The centaur took a single shuddering breath.

"Yes."

"Go ahead," the unicorn offered. "Don't concern yourself with a subject potentially being too personal. I'll simply tell you. Politely. And then there may be a means of answering anyway --"

The words also had to be forced.

"It's something I have to ask all of you. It didn't come up at the briefing, and -- when I thought about the ibex, I remembered it. I... I think I need to know..."

Rarity looked at her for a few seconds. Nodded once, and raised her voice.

"Everypony?" the unicorn announced, and every equine head turned -- as did the dragon. "Cerea has a question. An important one. Something where she needs our best answers. Your attention, please? And your honesty."

The Bearers stopped, and far too many eyes focused on Cerea. From all directions, at what felt like every possible level of intensity.

I didn't look at Fluttershy's mark.
...two unblinking eyes. Calling it --
-- butterflies.

She wasn't sure how that related to assassinations. Maybe it was a cultural thing.

"Prithee, but I have..." Stopped, and took another breath. "I've... I was sent letters. Not the protest letters."

They may not know about those.
Or half the mail leaving Ponyville is those letters.
I'm probably breaking some poor mailmare's back.

"From Diamond and Fancypants." And she could scent Rarity's sudden tension, as the memories came back all over again. "I'm..."

They were all staring at her. One mare seemed to be making some attempt to capitalize the action.

The wind picked up. Branches tried to sway. Some of them were too bent back on themselves to manage the feat. The ones which had grown in twisted spirals had no chance of truly catching the current.

Just... just say it.

She had to know. The question was whether they would tell her.

"...I'm going in to assess and evaluate Tirek," Cerea heard herself say. "That's supposed to be the plan. But plans can fall apart. There's... a chance that I'll have to fight him. And in the letters... they knew you had a plan, but nopony is sure what it was. I know that if it involved magic, I can't use it. But -- just hearing anything about your tactics, what you intended to try -- if there's anything there which might be helpful --"

She hadn't expected the laugh.

It was a sound which felt smaller than the alicorn who had made it. Something more bitter than momordica charantia, and it contained no humor whatsoever.

"We were going to drop rocks on his head."

And then the stare was going the other way.

"Rocks," the girl just barely repeated. There had been no hiss associated with the word, but she still wanted to check for translator error. The other option was that Twilight had just said something about rocks.

"And fire," Spike reluctantly added.

"Would've done floods, if'fin we could've managed it," Applejack sighed. "But the first stage was gonna be rocks." The hat shifted forward, shadowed green eyes beneath the brim. "Ain't sure y'can do much with that, unless y'can bring the ceiling down on him." And for a moment, there was a small, vicious smile. "If that happens? At least we'll know it might have worked. Can't promise it'll help, Cerea -- but we'll tell you."

The earth pony stopped. Took a deep breath, and large muscles reached out for extra strength.

"We had his path," the orange mare said. "Wasn't exactly tryin' to go around obstacles. His size, anythin' he couldn't step over, he --" and all at once, "Rarity, Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't mean --"

"-- anything he couldn't step over," Rarity tightly repeated, "he stepped on. I am not offended, Applejack."

Something about the earth pony's posture didn't seem to suggest full belief, and that was accompanied by everything about the scent.

"Anyway," the largest pony visibly made herself continue, "he was comin' up to what was kind of an interestin' spot. It's one of those places where the local Diamond Dog warren gets really close t' town -- or it did, 'cause the town expanded towards that part, and the Dogs abandoned those tunnels. Stopped doin' the maintenance. Ceiling started out weak, an' Tirek... he had weight, didn't he?"

"We thought," Pinkie took over, "that he'd collapse it. Drop in up to the top of his hoof. Or part of it. You can hurt yourself that way, even in a short drop. If your weight comes down the wrong way when you're not ready for it." The brightest eyes burned with sudden ferocity. "We would have taken hurt. But even if it didn't hurt him, he would have been distracted. Maybe even trapped for a second..."

The centaur was still trying to reconcile 'rocks'.

"You were counting on the ground collapsing," Cerea said. "You couldn't be sure..."

"It was gonna break," Applejack stated. "Guaranteed."

"The Dogs set it up?" was a natural inquiry. "I've met -- I know they're good with soil, but nopony said anything about rock --"

Rarity reluctantly shook her head.

"They fled when they felt the tremors," the white unicorn stated. "There was no attempt made to assist us. We have a degree of trade, but -- not an alliance. Please trust us when we say that the ground would have broken, Cerea. We were there."

"I was going to levitate the largest rocks I could find," Twilight bitterly declared. "Get them moving, or position them so it wouldn't matter if he drained my magic. And Spike was going to try for a fire. Something we had to start at a distance, but -- Rainbow would have stayed out far enough to manage the wind. Move it all towards him, while there was still time. Because take out the magic, and the fire is still there. The wind is still blowing. Steal my field, and all that would get him was gravity. With the rocks right over his head..."

She stopped. The light blue mare sighed.

"It wasn't a bad idea," Trixie told the group. "I know I wasn't there, but -- I don't have anything better than a firework up his snout. Direct physical assault --"

"It was stupid," blasted into the world on a tide of insistence and self-hatred. "We were counting on him still being normal enough for something to hurt him. That his skull could still be cracked, and his skin would burn, and -- he had magic, Trixie, he had everypony's magic. But he didn't seem to know very much about what he could do with it. There were a few basic effects --" Paused, and laughed again. "Basic. It's like saying a single water droplet is basic when it's holding everything from a waterfall. But that was what we were counting on, Trixie. There weren't any major techniques. He could blast things, but I wasn't sure he'd figured out how to levitate something in a hurry. Field strength, everypony's field strength -- but what was his field dexterity? Could he go for multiple targets? So -- dropping rocks on his head. And fire. Because..."

The purple eyes slowly closed, and the next words lost all tone. All feeling. All hope.

"...we were trying to kill him."

And the little body shook.

"Twi --" Applejack was already moving closer to the alicorn.

"...you weren't there, Trixie." Heaving ribs pushed newborn words into an unwelcome world. "I'm glad you weren't there. Maybe you would have thought of something, with him right in front of you. But that's also when you get drained. One more victim. He had some power before he reached Canterlot, getting the Princesses out in time didn't stop him from hurting so many others, and then he started draining the Everfree. He was a walking apocalypse, he kept taking and taking and when he took everything, that was the end of the world. And... I didn't know how to get the magic out of him. We thought there was a good chance that every drain was permanent, because we didn't know. There were ponies and griffons and so many others who'd already lost their magic, Cranky said he almost didn't get clear in time, some of us would have had to get closer than the others for the attack, and --"

Shaking faster, even with the earth pony pressed against her. Fluttershy and Trixie were now on the approach, and Rainbow was already there. The little alicorn's brother simply hugged her as best he could.

Cerea could scent it all, under full Moon. The desperation of the others. How much they wanted to help her, and that was why they were all moving towards Twilight. To give her what support and comfort they could. It was the reason why fur strands pressed tightly enough to intermesh, while feathers gently drifted across a weeping face.

But the girl couldn't approach, even when everypony was now on the move. She had no right, no place. And for what those who loved the little alicorn could do (because she could scent their love)... it didn't seem to matter.

"-- that was the price. The ones who were still alive, just drained -- even if that was some of us --"

Frantically, "Twi, we talked 'bout it --"
"...I was ready, I've never had very much magic in the first place, not for techniques, I'm sure I could have --"
"-- when you think about all the ponies, about everyone, the numbers -- Twilight, I told you, I really really understood why --"
"You were all doing what you had to --"
"-- I know how much it hurt you to make that call, I have to tuck you back in when you wake up --"
"-- blaze of glory! It would have been one for every history book, for the Hall Of Legends again --"
"-- dearest, every last one of us was prepared to --"

They were all touching the crying little alicorn now. There was some jostling for position, because Twilight's size didn't give them a lot of room to work with. And none of it was noticed. None of it mattered.

"...it could be a fascinating study, don't you think?" Twilight wept. "Because a corpse can't hold magic. There's ways to make the inanimate store thaums, and platinum does it naturally --" a certain amount of lecture began to work into the sobs "-- to a given capacity. But not the dead. We convert calories into power, when we need it. And that means we usually don't just have uncommitted thaums in our bodies. So when we die... most of the time, that's it. We're dead."

They were all saying her name, over and over. She didn't seem to be listening. And with Moon shining down on pain and torment, the centaur's ears picked out every word.

"But sometimes, a pony will die when they're in the middle of doing something," the alicorn said, and the syllables were acid. "I've read articles. You can get a little fizzle. Random effects, because the thaums aren't under control any more and they just sort of -- work themselves out on whatever's around. Like being sick with Rhynorn's and trying to cast, only it's happening for the last time. So when Tirek died, with all of that magic inside him -- what happens? It's a great question, isn't it? Does it just wink out, like a corona going dark? It was too much to hope for everything to just go back to where it came from. Maybe the body would have exploded, like overloaded platinum. Taken out everything around it. Us, at the very least. And I don't know how many thaums he was carrying. Maybe it was enough to make Ponyville into a crater. It could have destroyed the mountain. I didn't know. And we were going to try and kill him anyway. Because I didn't know how to stop the drain, or block it, or reverse it, or anything, there wasn't enough time to research or study or theorize or hope, we knew we could lose thousands of ponies if we did it and killing was still all we had left."

There were too many thoughts in the girl's head: there usually were. But she watched the alicorn sink to the cold ground, saw the others follow, and found room for one more.

They're not military.
They never were.
They would feel the loss, like the Sergeant does. They would mourn. But not like this.
Not in front of me.
What are they...?

The Bearers had surrounded their friend, and Cerea could only watch.

She wanted to do something.
She couldn't.
She spoke.

"There is a saying where I came from," the girl tried to offer. "A -- cliche', really. Something from a --" and she knew the disc would hiss for a full minute "-- series of stories. About how the needs of the many outweigh --"

"-- it's a fantastic research problem, right?" Twilight asked the world. "Dispersal of stolen thaums from a corpse. Years worth of articles, just from that. What happens? There are academics who would have died to get that answer. Maybe some did, because the Gifted School lost two teachers. Maybe they were trying to get close enough to figure something out. And I was the one who decided that Tirek had to die, that so many people might die and if Tirek was gone, that meant it was right..."

She sniffed a few times. The other ponies pressed more tightly.

"We're alive," Rainbow told her. "We're here..." This was echoed.

"I couldn't even figure out why he was getting bigger!"

Energy-mass conversion? asked the girl's spiraling thoughts. She understood the basic theory, and -- that was about it. There was no way to work out the number of thaums required to produce even a gram of matter...

"Oh, that's easy," Applejack decided. "Only so much room in a body for magic, right? So once y'hit capacity, y'obviously need a bigger body." There was a thoughtful pause. "Accounts for the Princesses, come t' think of it." A strong chin rubbed against the base of the little alicorn's horn. "Can't quite figure out where you fit in there. Other than at the petite end. With room t' spare."

"...oh, shut up," the alicorn grumbled.

The earth pony smirked. "Us researchers," she announced, "kinda resent somepony talkin' over our theories." And paused. "Twi, Discord changed the plan --" and the tone shift was the audio equivalent of a facehoof "-- of course he did, it's Discord. And he got the magic back to where it came from."

"Except for the dead," Twilight softly said. "They're all still dead. And it changed before that, when we got close enough to see what was going on. That Sweetie and Diamond hadn't gotten out, and Mr. Rich was closing in, and... it was harder to think about doing it, when they were right there. When..."

"I am aware," Rarity calmly stated, and did so while her scent put its own lie on the qualifier. "Perhaps... the explosion would have been quick enough that we would have all only realized what had happened in the shadowlands. And then... I could have told her how sorry I was, Twilight. Sweetie is a filly who gives so much for her friends. For those she cares about. And Diamond is --" a small smile "-- significantly better than she once was. Mr. Rich... they all would have understood."

"You don't know --"

"I thought it was safe to go after him, once he was small again," Rainbow quickly declared. "Smaller, anyway. One good kick would have done it!" Accusingly, "And you held me back."

The wind is moving over your feathers. I can smell your intent. You're trying to distract her.

"Because it was going home, all of the magic." More sniffs. (Spike was now digging in the saddlebags, and it took a moment before a handkerchief emerged. The girl briefly wondered what it was locally called.) "I told you: I didn't know if he had any left, or what happened if he died while he still had even a little -- oh, thank you..."

She blew her snout. Thin legs kicked at the ground, and the others moved away. Just enough to let her stand up.

"And then the Guards were there," Twilight finished. "When Tirek was weak, and helpless, and... might not have been a threat any more. So we didn't finish it."

The other ponies began to stand up. All but one.

"...and we were waiting," Fluttershy whispered. "Because maybe a little more power would come out. Enough for... for Discord... to..."

Most of the motions reversed themselves. Spike transferred backs.

"...Fancypants... keeps saying it's his fault. That he made Discord see it. That everything's connected."

More salt in the air. More water being absorbed by the soil.

"...but there has to be a first connection. Something which gives you the bridge to all of the rest. If he hadn't... if I hadn't... if we hadn't been friends..."

They surrounded the pegasus. (Trixie came in last, and her posture was the most awkward.) Stayed with her, as cold sluiced through fur and souls. Gave her time, until the last sniffles stopped. For a little while.

"And now we're here," Twilight finally said. "Because we let him go. So -- let's go do what we have to. Let's get her in."

When so many lived, who wouldn't have without Discord's intervention.
When so many might still die.

The ponies stood. Cerea had been shuffling awkwardly from hoof to hoof for enough time to truly call it a dance. The only one she knew.

"Size for magic storage," Pinkie considered. "It's not a bad idea." With a smile, "And everypony knows that you need an exception to test a rule! Since Twilight's so exceptionally small --"

"I think," the alicorn decided with a faint smile, "I said something about shutting up?"

The flour-scented mare glanced at Cerea, and the words were innocent enough. The words, but -- not the images they triggered. "I bet you could hold a lot of magic."

The centaur thought of a forest, and coolness wrapping around a fevered body. Looked down at her breasts again, and then wrenched her gaze back up.

"I... don't have any."

And the girl waited for the next words to become an accusation. Something about centaurs, perhaps. That they were hollow within, and stole simply to have something which would fill the void. She felt hollowed, sometimes. Whenever she thought about how there was no one left to hold her hand.

But both tone and scent simply became curious. And there was something else present. An aspect which was almost... wistful.

"Do you miss it?"

"You... can't miss what you've never had," Cerea replied.

Liar.
You... miss what you might have had, if everything had been different. If you were different.
What you don't have any more.
To not miss something... You'd have to feel it wasn't even possible. That no one had ever had it.
If my mother had never sung to me at all.
If I didn't know that singing existed.
Maybe then I wouldn't...

"The most you can do is wish," the centaur told the ponies. "You put your wishes in one hand, you spit in the other. The spit always fills your palm first. I don't want magic, because I can't have it. Wishing for magic, for power, over and over to the point where it's the only thought you can still have..."

Her hands clenched. Parts of the gauntlet tried to jam, and she had to force them open.

I hate him.

"...that's Tirek. I'm... I'm not him..."

Please don't look at me like that.
Please don't look at me.
I'm not sure what that scent is, and now it's coming in bulk.
Please don't let that be pity...

After a few seconds, the little alicorn looked around. Blinked away the last of the tears, and then squinted.

"Applejack," she checked. "I know wild trees look a little weird without their leaves. But those branches..."

The farmer checked the sight line. Slowly nodded.

"Ain't natural," the earth pony said. "An' they ain't from one of mine tryin' t' do some creative shapin', neither. Let's keep goin', everypony. An' keep your ears rotatin'. Ah think we're close."

Seven ponies, one dragon, and a single centaur moved deeper into the night. The last wound up towards the rear of the new formation and Rarity, who was still checking on Twilight, did not drop back.

It left her alone with her thoughts.
One thought.
I'm not him...