//------------------------------// // 0_0_4: Thunder/Head-On // Story: Hold It Together // by OverUnderCookened //------------------------------// Lapis’ first clue that he would be in for a rough night was when he realized the crowd outside the Golden Oak Library was all looking in the same direction. Crowds weren’t unusual in Ponyville. There were a lot of ponies living there, of course a lot of them were going to end up in the same space every now and again. What was unusual was when a crowd was all looking at the same thing - which, Lapis found as he craned his neck over top of the other spectators, appeared to be some kind of stage. It hadn’t been there this morning, but it was here now - small, but extravagant all the same. Standing atop it was a pale blue unicorn mare, wearing a purple, star-patterned wizard’s hat and cloak. Unlike with Gilda, Lapis recognized this unicorn immediately. It was Tricksy - no, wait, isn’t that spelled with an X? Yeah, it’s ‘Trixie,’ right - the loudmouth stage magician. And she’s not wearing the Definitely-Not-The-One-Ring necklace, so that means… this is the episode with the giant bear. Lapis glanced around to make sure no ponies in the crowd were looking at him, then sighed and sat on his rump. Welp. At least I know Twilight’s going to solve the whole giant, rampaging star-bear problem inside of a few minutes, so it won’t end up being an all-night affair like the Summer Sun Celebration was. Still, I’d better head to bed early tonight, if I can - tonight’s sleep is probably going to be very much interrupted. As Lapis looked on, Trixie threw her forehooves wide - and her stage erupted into a tiny, well-contained fireworks display, a miniature Catherine wheel suddenly kicking into motion with a flurry of gleaming, smokeless sparks. Lapis blinked in surprise as, only a few seconds later, the lights of the display coalesced into what looked almost like animated neon signs, showing Trixie herself standing up to a scaled-down image of the star-bear. Huh. That’s… odd. Is her stage making those fireworks with magic? I mean, every firework I’ve ever seen leaves behind a lot of smoke, and this is leaving none. So it’s gotta be magic, right? Huh. Lapis frowned in concentration as the gears started to turn in his head. But her horn isn’t lighting up when the fireworks show goes off, so it’s definitely the stage that’s responsible. Mechanical magic, or maybe just mechanical manipulation of magic… wonder if there’s a name for that? Or a book… Lapis snorted, standing back up as he spotted Twilight and her friends in the front row of the crowd, their faces vaguely disgusted as they muttered to each other. Yeah, nope. No way I’m heading to the library anytime soon. Especially not today - today is packed. Lapis headed away from the crowd, quickly checking through a few of his order slips. If I want to get any more attempts at studying done, I need to get these orders knocked out fast. So, let’s see here… a loose shutter, a crooked door, and a table with a broken leg. Let’s get the table first, I should be able to knock that out inside of a few minutes… where is it? Lapis slid the other orders back into his saddlebags, quickly looking over the rest of the order slip. Request filed by one Mr. Cake, of… the Sugarcube Corner Bakery. Wait, isn’t that the building that looks like someone stacked cupcakes on a gingerbread house? Huh. Well, maybe I’ll see if I can buy some donuts or something from there. I mean, it’s not like fixing a broken table is going to take too long, right? “…And this is the table, right here,” said Mr. Cake, gesturing to what was almost a normal coffee table. Lapis cocked an eyebrow, looking at the stack of circular metal pans that sat where one of the table’s legs should be. “Wow, that’s a lot of cake pans.” “Well, we are a bakery,” the stallion quipped. His name was Carrot Cake, and the name fit - his coat was a yellow-cake sort of color, his mane and tail were carrot-orange, and even his Cutie Mark was three square slices of his namesake. He had a taller, lankier build than most other ponies in town, and his angular, freckled muzzle had a slight underbite. “Oh! I was wondering about the home decor,” Lapis said, nodding in mock-realization. The baker grinned. “Nope! Complete coincidence, actually. Oh, I think I left the table leg under the cabinets. Here, I’ll get it.” Lapis eyed the tall stack of cake pans again. “What were you doing when you needed to use all these? It had to have put a dent in your production.” “Eh?” the baker asked from inside the kitchen. “Oh, you mean the cake pans? Well, we really don’t use them too often - most of our business is cupcakes, ya know.” He trotted back into the room a few moments later, holding the table leg between his teeth. Lapis picked up the table, scooting the stack of cake pans to the side, then levitated the leg over to the rest of the table to inspect the damage. Surprisingly, this wasn’t a case of stripped screw-holes or broken joints - no, the leg had just been snapped off about a sixth of the way down. Lapis floated the legs into position, aligned the halves, and blinked in the flash of light that accompanied his spell. “Ooh!” Carrot Cake chimed in, ducking his head down just in time to watch the cracks spark themselves out of existence. “Well, isn’t that pretty. Take you long to learn that spell?” “Longer than I’d have liked,” Lapis said, grinning through a sudden yawn. If I’d been able to do this back on Earth… Focus. “How’d this table get broken, anyway?” “Oh!” The baker paused, tapping his protruding chin. “Well, Pinkie was in one of her baking frenzies, and she managed to slip on a cupcake pan.” Lapis nodded. Man, Pinkie just does whatever she wants, huh? Between Mr. Cake, Bon Bon, and me, I feel like half the town’s been a victim of hers by now. “I get it. Must’ve been some angle if she managed to break just one leg, instead of the middle of the table.” “Oh, no, she didn’t even touch the table,” Carrot Cake replied. “No, she landed on her hooves just fine, but she flipped a full cupcake pan over trying to grab the counter, and sent half a dozen cupcakes flying across the kitchen! Now, that would’ve been fine on its own, but since she had Gummy in there - her pet alligator, cute little guy - he went for the cupcakes. Jumped right off the counter to get ‘em! He did get a cupcake out of it, but of course Pinkie dived to catch him, right as I was walking in with a bag of flour. She knocked the both of us to the floor, dropped Gummy on my face, and sent the bag of flour flying!” “…And that hit the table?” Lapis asked, cocking his head in bewilderment. “Nope!” The baker shook his head, then continued, gesturing across the room with a sweep of his front hoof. “The bag of flour went clear through this room, out that door and into the shop proper, and got poor Derpy Hooves right over the head. That mare always seems to catch the worst of things, somehow… Anyway, she just gets covered in flour, then she stumbles in here looking like a ghost-pegasus, and scares the dickens out of my wife, Cup Cake. And Cup Cake, she’s a kicker when she’s startled!” The baker laughed, looking off into the distance. “Well, anyway. So she kicks, and the table leg is right behind her. The next thing ya know, the table is broken, Cup Cake is covered in the tea and cookies she’d spent all morning laying out for the three of us, I’m still on the floor with Pinkie on my back and Gummy clamped onto my nose, and poor Derpy is trying to apologize, but she just can’t stop coughing flour!” Carrot Cake sighed, shaking his head and grinning. “Well, we laughed up a storm about it the other night, but I tell ya, Cup Cake was not happy right then.” “I’ll bet,” Lapis said, laughing in amazement - then, the grin froze on his face as a possibility occurred to him. “Wait, Pinkie doesn’t work here, does she?” “Yep, and she lives here, too! You’ve already met her, I bet,” Carrot Cake said. “Even with all the parties she’s always running, she still cooks almost all the cupcakes we sell. Ooh, here, I’ll get you one - on the house!” “Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Lapis began, but Carrot Cake had already leaned into the kitchen and grabbed one for him. “I insist,” Carrot Cake said, offering it atop one of his hooves. “If Pinkie were here, she’d be giving ya a whole dozen. She’s out right now - looking for some new pony in town, if I remember right. She always throws the nicest parties for newcomers… But I’m rambling again. Here, take your cupcake, or I’ll forget I’m holding it!” Lapis levitated the cupcake, torn between bemusement about the baker’s Rube-Goldberg machine of a story, and panic about Pinkie Pie’s continued hunt for him. “Thanks, it looks delicious. Uh, all newcomers? No exceptions, ever?” “Every single one!” Carrot Cake said, beaming. “Usually the night they arrive. She’s been in a bit of a rush lately, now that I think about it - I think she hadn’t managed to track this pony down in time, and now she wanted to throw an extra-big party to make up for it. Ooh, I’d better start making a cake!” He glanced back towards the kitchen. “Well, I’d better clear out of your way, then,” Lapis replied. “Hate to keep the lucky pony waiting!” “Oh, I betcha!” Carrot Cake chuckled, then turned and re-entered the kitchen. “Here, let me get those bits for ya. Now, where did I leave that bag…” Lapis did his best to tune out the sound of Carrot Cake rummaging around in the pantry, instead straining his ears to listen for any early warning of Pinkie. The sproing, sproing, sproing of her hoofsteps, a knock on the door, anything that might give him a second or two to react. Almost absent-mindedly, Lapis reached into his saddlebag with his magic, trying to get a good grip on his mask - - It wasn’t there. Oh, shit. “…And here we are!” Carrot Cake said, re-emerging from the kitchen with a small stack of coins balanced on his hoof. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Lapis. “-Oh, dear. Pinkie didn’t get you with another bag of flour, did she?” “What? No!” Lapis said, waving his hooves. “No, I- just realized I forgot my money-bag. …Did I really go that pale?” “Almost!” Carrot Cake chimed, setting the stack of bits on the table. “Well, I hope your saddlebags don’t have any holes. Here, I might have a patch lying around if you need one…” “No, they’re just fine,” Lapis said, quickly levitating the coins into his bag and turning toward the door. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Cake. And also for the cupcake, but I’d really better get out of here if I want to hunt down my money-bag.” “Oh, of course. Come back anytime, you’ve been great conversation!” “I’ll be sure to stop by!” Lapis replied over his shoulder, plastering a smile on his face and making his way out the door toward the front of the shop. He was halfway across the storefront to the exit by the time he heard another door in the building slowly creak open. Please don’t, Lapis thought, advancing toward the door as stealthily as he could. Please. “SHHH!” another, higher voice hissed from deep inside the house. Lapis hesitated, just for a second. What? Who’s shushing- “Oh!” Mr. Cake’s voice yelped from further inside the building. “Goodness, Pinkie Pie, sometimes you’re so quiet-” Lapis didn’t stick around to hear the rest. He bolted, heading for the front door as fast as his hooves could carry him. And the sound that began to echo from inside the kitchen was the exact same noise he’d expected to hear, the sproing, sproing, sproing, of Pinkie’s hoofsteps, but the time between them was at least two or three times shorter than usual. A high-pitched scream rang in Lapis’ ears as he passed through the doorway, and he wasn’t sure whether the voice was Pinkie’s or his. He gripped the doorframe with a hoof and used it to hang a right, skidding briefly on the flagstone before taking off down the road at a gallop. Mask, mask, where’s my mask, dammit?! If it’s just in my other saddlebag- Lapis leaped sideways into an alleyway, narrowly missing a confused pedestrian, just as he heard Sugarcube Corner’s door swing slowly open. He got halfway down the alley before ducking behind a trash can - then, to his surprise, he ended up collapsing with his back against the bin, suddenly gasping and panting for breath. What… the hell? I was… way better at running than this, have I let myself go or something? As quietly as he could, Lapis started rummaging around his other saddlebag, checking for any sign of the mask, but found that all he had was a stack of order slips and a pencil. Maybe he’d messed up. Maybe his mas was in his first saddlebag, and he’d missed it earlier - Sproing. Sproing. Sproing. Lapis felt his eyes widen, felt his heart slow in his chest as the sound of Pinkie’s approach began to echo down the alleyway. Shit! Do I run? There’s nowhere to turn, I’ll lose hands-down in a straight race! Lapis knew his mask wasn’t in his saddlebag, he always kept it in the same place - had he left it in his house somewhere, or had it fallen out? Whatever the case, Pinkie was approaching his hiding place, and as soon as she reached it, he was basically done. This, Lapis thought, as Pinkie’s steps grew ever closer, might be it. May as well face it like a man. He took a slow, deep breath, as quietly as he could, and did his best to compose himself, opening his eyes to take in his surroundings. …Wait. I know this alleyway! He was right next to the Corner Cafe - if he was lucky, then there might be a back entrance. Forget luck, Lapis thought, setting his jaw. This is the only shot I have. Either it works, or nothing will. He took another breath, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. Please, please, please-! He lunged forward, ducking under an open window and sidestepping another trash can, and the only thing that stopped him from grinning at the sight of the side entrance was the squeaky-voiced “Ah-ha!” that came from somewhere behind him. Lapis whipped open the entrance and rushed inside, yanking the door shut behind himself and hurrying toward the first door that looked like it led into the restaurant proper. He shouldered it open, glancing around the restaurant, and had a double-take when he saw Lyra and Bon Bon already sitting in one of the booths. He spotted the waitress bringing Bon Bon a stack of syrup-drenched pancakes,topped with a curved strip of hay-bacon and a pair of cherries atop dollops of whipped cream, so that the pancake looked like it had a smiley face. And all at once, he had the single most insane idea he’d ever had in his life. As quickly and casually as he could, Lapis hurried toward the pair of ponies. Lyra spotted him first and shot him a friendly wave, but her expression grew confused as he hurried over and sat down beside Bon Bon. “What are you-” Bon Bon began saying as the door to the Corner Cafe jingled open and the first sproing rang through the building. Lapis didn’t reply - he levitated the top pancake off of Bon Bon’s stack, hay-bacon, cherries and all. Then he flipped it around so that the smiley face was facing away from himself, and pressed the syrup-dripping pancake against his face, spearing it on his horn with a moist squelch. The syrup instantly saturated his face, gluing itself to his fur as firmly as it held the hay-bacon and other toppings in place. Lapis strained his ears as the sound of Pinkie’s hoofsteps approached his table, passed by… then began to approach again. “Hey, has anypony seen a really fast, baby-bluey blur around here?” Pinkie asked. There were a few seconds of silence. “…Nope,” Lyra wheezed. Pinkie huffed. “Well, if anypony sees that blur, let me know. I owe it three nice-to-meet-you’s, two dozen cupcakes, and a whole half-month’s worth of party!” There was a sudden rush of air, and Lapis felt his mane ruffle in the exact same moment that the door to the Corner Cafe suddenly closed. Lapis waited until a count of ten before he pulled his impromptu mask off his face. There were strings of syrup that connected his forehead and muzzle to the pancake, and Lapis winced as he watched them drip down onto the table, gingerly returning the pancake to Bon Bon’s plate. “Lapis?” Bon Bon asked, her tone perfectly calm. “What the buck?” Lyra snorted, then fell sideways on her bench as she broke into hysterical laughter. Lapis sighed, grabbing a napkin and scrubbing off his horn. “I don’t even know, anymore.” A few minutes later, Lapis had bought Bon Bon another stack of pancakes, and was tucking into a small plate of scrambled eggs with veggies and cheese. Lyra had mostly gotten control of herself again, though every so often she would glance at Lapis’ face, the fur of which was still matted with syrup, and giggle. Bon Bon, meanwhile, was trying to hold the exact conversation that Lapis was least keen on having just then. “…But is it really worth it?” she was saying. “Lapis, I’m not exactly a party pony myself, but you have to see that avoiding Pinkie is getting to be more trouble for you than whatever hosting her party would’ve been!” “What it would’ve been, maybe,” Lapis said, rubbing his forehead with a free hoof. This’ll take forever to wash out… I wish they had Goo-Gone here. “But not what it will be. I just came here from Sugarcube Corner, had to fix a table for Mr. Cake. He said that if Pinkie finds out who I am, or where I live, she’s going to make up for lost time by throwing an extra-big party.” “Well, that’s all the more reason for you to make first contact now!” Lyra said, waving a hoof. “The longer you go without introducing yourself to Pinkie, the crazier the party is going to get. Why in Equestria are you so keen on not talking to Pinkie in the first place, anyway?” Because I’m an alien from another planet who’s seen the future of this world, I know that Pinkie, Twilight, and the rest of her friends are doomed to get into ten times more trouble on a regular basis than everyone else in Ponyville put together, and I’d bet every last bit I own that - if I got involved with them - I’d get swept up into a lot more of their trouble than I’d like. Which is a problem because I need to get back to my home as soon as I possibly can, on account of the fact that I’ve probably put my family in more debt than they can pay off by being dumb enough to disappear under mysterious circumstances, and the fact that that debt will only continue to increase the longer I’m gone. Ergo, I need to waste as little time as possible, or else. “Because… I just am, okay?” Lapis said. “I meant to mention this to you earlier, Lyra, but it’s not because I’m embarrassed about my house or anything. Parties are just… Look, have you ever spilled a bag of glitter or something in your saddlebags?” Bon Bon cocked a confused eyebrow, but Lyra nodded, so Lapis pushed on. “How long did it take before you could put anything in those saddlebags, and not have them come out covered in glitter?” Lyra hesitated, tapping her chin with a hoof. “…You know, I think stuff still comes out of my saddlebags with glitter on it every so often.” “Exactly,” Lapis said. “Confetti’s the same way, if there’s enough of it. Now, let me ask you this: what happens to confetti when it gets wet?” “It goes soggy?” Bon Bon asked, her eyebrow still cocked. “Yep. And what happens to the dye?” “…Ooooh, I get it,” Lyra said. Bon Bon glanced over at her. “So? You ask a unicorn who knows cleaning spells to take care of the stain.” “Well, yeah, but I don’t know cleaning spells, and I don’t really know many unicorns that do,” Lyra pointed out. “The same goes for Lapis, I’m guessing… Oh, have you picked up those books I recommended for you yet?” …Man, it’s just one bad topic after another, huh? “No,” Lapis sighed, “I haven’t. I’m not exactly… comfortable going into the library at the moment. I checked out four books from there - one was the book about the Elements of Harmony, but the other three were about some more specific types of magic. Problem is, apparently I didn’t check them out right, and now Twilight’s put up a whole poster saying that somepony owes a hundred and fifty bits in fees-” Bon Bon’s eyebrows shot up, and Lyra nearly stood upright in her seat. “A hundred and fifty!?” “Per book,” Lapis finished, and Lyra sat back in her seat, her jaw dropping. Bon Bon, meanwhile, slowly shook her head. “Sounds like the standard fine levied for petty theft… and if Twilight’s treating mishoofing of library books as a crime, then that might warrant sending a letter to the Mayor’s office. They’re the ones responsible for laying down the law, not librarians.” “…But what about students to Princess Celestia?” Lyra asked. Bon Bon raised a hoof, opening her mouth to object- then paused, frowning and lowering her hoof. “Exactly,” Lapis said, swallowing the last forkful of his eggs. “And considering that Twilight’s on pretty good terms with Pinkie, this all works out to be one more reason not to let Pinkie find me. Speaking of which, I’d better head back to my shop. Find my mask, wash the syrup out of my coat, look up the nearest bookstore, y’know.” Lyra snickered again, then cleared her throat. “Right, yeah. Um, hey, Lapis?” Lapis paused. “Uh, yeah?” “You know you can talk to us, right?” Lyra waved a hoof at herself and Bon Bon, who nodded. “If there’s stuff going on, we’re happy to hear about it.” No, Lapis thought, I can’t. He smiled anyway, and found to his surprise that he meant the gratitude he was trying to convey. “Thanks, Lyra. That means a lot. And you too, Bon Bon.” “Anytime,” Bon Bon replied. “Now go wash up, quick, before that syrup hardens.” Lapis grinned, then made for the door, pausing only briefly to glance up and down the street for any sign of Pinkie. Then, he hurried on his way. The mask, as it turned out, was on the floor just inside the shop’s front door. As best as Lapis could tell, it had slipped out when he’d slung his saddlebags over his shoulder that morning. Lapis took a few seconds to remove one of the smaller coat-hooks from his doorframe, bolting it instead to the inside of his bag. Then, he tied the mask’s strap to the hook in a quick slip-knot before washing the syrup out of his face and heading back out. Clumsy? Yes. Overkill? Absolutely. But with any luck… Nope. If I think that out loud, I’ll jinx it. The rest of the day was busy, but otherwise uneventful. Lapis managed to get to bed early, which was good, because the star-bear did, in fact, arrive that evening. Lapis was sound asleep, and the giant star-bear’s first footstep had still rattled him right out of bed. He wandered out of his home, bleary-eyed and blinking, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the thing. In short, it was a bear the size of a blimp, with a deep-blue, translucent coat that twinkled with false stars. It raised its forepaw, and Lapis saw the air that the thing displaced ruffle the manes of the ponies cowering before it, Trixie among them - but, to Lapis’ relief, the monster didn’t swipe at them. Instead, with a gesture like opening a pair of finger-scissors, it snapped a rope that had been tying two of its toes together. Trixie seemed to have done her best to stop the creature - and her best, it seemed, wasn’t nearly good enough. Lapis had sat down on his porch in a state of shock, his mindset shifting into a bizarre calm as he tried to figure out which portion of the town would be quickest to rebuild. Then Twilight stepped out of her library, visibly nervous but determined. Her horn flared with the translucent, almost gel-like coating of her magic, and after a few moments, the bear swayed and began to look drowsy, almost drunk. And, for a brief, blissful moment, Lapis had thought that he wouldn’t have anything unusual to attend to the next day. Then a second coat of magic wrapped around Twilight’s horn, and the entire top of Ponyville’s water tower casually tore itself free of its wooden supports with no more ceremony than a wet, crackling crunch. Lapis knew that kind of crunching noise all too well: it was the sound of old lumber turning into new mulch, and it was bad news for his ability to get much rest tomorrow. The problem only got worse when it became clear that Twilight wasn’t planning on keeping the top of the water tower. Lapis made a deliberate point of not thinking about how Twilight had milked all those cows so quickly, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what kind of magical strength she had to possess in order to lift the entire star-bear, with milk-filled water tower, and then carry it all the way back into the Everfree. Only once the star-bear was well out of sight did Twilight’s horn finally go dark, Twilight almost collapsing from the exertion. After that, it wasn’t long until the rest of the town erupted in cheers, and the blue showmare excused herself with a few parting shouts, a smoke bomb, and an impressively fast gallop. None of the ponies seemed particularly to mind that they were now sans-water tower, nor were any of them particularly bothered by the fact that there had just been a blimp-sized ursine casually wandering into Ponyville. Instead, they were all cheering on the mare who had saved the day: Twilight Sparkle, protege to the Princess and legal custodian of the three unreturned library books which sat, quiet and waiting, in the basement of Lapis’ house. …Huh. Here I’d thought that Nightmare Moon was the scariest thing that could happen to Ponyville, but yeah, nope. And neither was the star-bear, not by a long way - for Lapis, the most terrifying presence in Ponyville had just become Twilight McBookface Sparkle. I gotta do something about those library books. Or maybe… When Lapis woke up the next morning, it was with a goal in mind. He needed to get the library books back into Twilight’s collection as soon as possible - but, he also needed to do it in such a way that Twilight didn’t see him, and her exorbitant overdue-book fines were paid in full, or otherwise dealt with. At this point, it’s pretty clear that if Twilight actually wants to hunt me down, she probably can. The only thing I can do to stop her from doing so, Lapis thought, setting his jaw as he clambered out of bed, is to make sure she doesn’t have a reason to hunt me down. And that means I either need to pay those fines, or find some other way to make them disappear. Unfortunately, coming up with the goal was one thing, and coming up with a plan that accomplished that goal was another. And if there was one thing Lapis knew about planning, it was that planning was very much an after-coffee task. So, yawning, he wandered out into the front room, grinning drowsily as he stepped across the woolen rug on the floor and sat in his chair by the window. Lapis had woken up late today, but it looked like he wasn’t the only one - there were a fair number of pedestrians out and about with their manes still messy, and fewer of them in total than what was normal. Huh. Wonder if the Corner Cafe’s open yet… actually, if the sun’s this high, it might be… He glanced toward his kitchen, briefly running through the steps it would take to whip himself up some coffee and an omelet. I could have it done in no time flat… but not today. I can have an off-day, every once in a while. Nodding, Lapis stood up, slung his saddlebags over his back, and set off for the Corner Cafe, hanging a ‘Temporarily Closed’ sign on his door. Besides, if Lyra and Bon Bon are there, it’ll give me a chance to bounce some ideas off of Lyra and Bon Bon. And if they’re not… well, I get to enjoy a good breakfast without making it myself, then I find Nikki, and then I find out where to buy myself a cloak with a hood. The dirt streets of Ponyville in the late morning were a little quieter than usual, but not by much. There were still plenty of ponies out and about, grouped together in twos and threes, the pastels of their coats reminiscent of the clothes of a human crowd. If Lapis closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back on campus - their voices were human, the topics of conversation familiar, their tones friendly, excited, warm… “…so then she passed me the muffin, and I was like…” “…I told her not to bug the poor mare, but you know Yellow Petal…” “…did you see this year’s batch?! I think they might be the best Ponyville’s ever seen - I can’t wait for the cider!” -and then Lapis opened his eyes, and he was back in Ponyville again, inside a world that was almost literally made to appeal to his seven-year-old little sister. Man, what she’d give to be here instead of me… Something in his chest ached, just for a moment. Right. Focus. Lapis blinked, shook his head, and started keeping an eye out for any of the main characters, doing his best to tune out the growing warmth of the summer morning. Luckily, it seemed he was in the clear until Pinkie decided to show up - for some reason, Rainbow wasn’t usually in the sky before about 10:00, Twilight was almost never out of her library at all, and Lapis had yet to see Applejack outside the Apple family farm- well, except for the Bunny Incident. That left Rarity and Fluttershy, and as far as Lapis could tell, both of them were non-issues. Lapis was a lot of things, but “picky about clothes” wasn’t one of them, especially given that he was wearing a fur coat 24/7 - so he had no reason to visit Rarity’s clothing shop, and she was apparently kept busy enough by her own orders that she had no time to wander around and potentially spot him. And Fluttershy… Lapis slowed momentarily, frowning. Fluttershy. Huh. You know, I don’t think I’ve seen her at all since the Summer Sun Celebration. Wonder what she gets up to… As casually as he could, Lapis scanned the streets around him for any sign of Fluttershy, but didn’t catch so much as a glimpse of her. Well, whatever she does, I guess she’s not doing it around me. So… I guess that’s not a problem, yet? When Lapis arrived at the Corner Cafe, one glance through the window confirmed that Lyra and Bon Bon weren’t there. He stopped inside just long enough to get an omelet and some fries in a to-go bag, then headed back to his shop, only pausing inside for just long enough to hang his saddlebags by the door. Then, he headed straight into his closet, made his way into the basement, and cracked open what he deemed to be the most potentially important of his three books - The Horn is Quicker than the Carriage: Transportation for the Time-Pressed Unicorn. He quickly flipped to the chapter about teleportation spells, and stared glumly down at the imposing wall of magical terminology that waited on its first page. This, Lapis thought, is going to suck. Then, grimacing, he pulled over the notebook left behind by the previous owner of the workshop, levitated an inkwell and quill over from the corner of the workbench, and began to copy down the chapter. Priority one was simple: return the library books, and pay off the fines. Unfortunately, Lapis hadn’t checked out these books for entertainment purposes - a lot of the information in them would likely be helpful stuff, on the off-chance he figured out how to understand any of it. So, he needed to return the books, but keep the information in them - and until he managed to figure out enough magical terminology to decipher the texts, the best he could do was to copy them down. By hand… or, well, by horn. Over the next hour, Lapis learned a few things about writing with an inkwell and quill. Lesson one was that the ink would blot the page if you left the quill in one spot for too long, while lessons two and three were that moving the quill too quickly would either leave a trail of ink too thin to easily read, or else simply puncture the paper. On top of that, the quill would manage to write down an average of five words before it needed dipped in the inkwell again - seven if they were shorter words, and three if they were long. All in all, by the time Lapis finished copying down the chapter, he was about ready to crumple the quill into a ball and stomp on it. You know what? As far as The Totaled Theories of Harmonick Resonance goes, I think I’ve got Mend-Alls pretty much under control. And as thematically appropriate as it would be to copy down a book written in Ye Olde Shakespearean Englishe by way of a quill, I think I’d rather jump into a barrel of gasoline with a lit match. Having made up his mind, Lapis levitated The Totaled Theories and The Horn is Quicker up off the workbench, and went back upstairs to return them to his saddlebags. He opened the closet door, walked past the disorganized pile of pencils sitting atop the counter, returned the books to his saddlebags- Wait. Lapis slowly, creakily turned his head, making sure he’d seen what he thought he’d seen. Sure enough, sitting there on top of his counter were about a half-dozen perfectly serviceable charcoal pencils, complete with pink rubber erasers. Lapis’ eyelid twitched. He shut his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath, and did his best to suppress the scream of frustration that was trying to worm its way from his throat. Can I please, he thought, do one thing without making a stupid mistake that ends up costing me twice as much time as it needs to?! First it’s The Reference Guide, then it’s not managing to copy down the right words from that magical glossary, and now this?! “I need,” Lapis muttered, “to get this mess under control.” A sudden, brief series of quiet scraping noises shattered Lapis’ composure, and he snapped his eyes open to stare around the room, looking for the source of the noise. But to his increased exasperation, he couldn’t see anything different. And now there’s mice or something in my roof. Great. Just great. Lapis groaned, then levitated the top pencil off the stack on his desk and hurried back into his closet, keen to finish copying down the chapters on invisibility and disguise from his last book as quickly as possible. And as he shut the door, it only slightly rattled the perfectly-aligned, pyramidal stack of pencils that, only a few moments before, had been a disorganized, scattered pile. By the time Lapis finished copying down the most relevant-seeming sections of Shape-Shifting and Other Ways of Escaping the Sordid, it was noon. I didn’t mean to take a day off, but… well, I guess I have, huh? There were, as it turned out, a few clothing shops in Ponyville besides the Carousel Boutique. One of them, the Stallion’s Saddlebag Store, sold simple brown waxed-canvas “rain-cloaks” in a whole variety of sizes, which luckily included Lapis’. Since it was summer, all the winter wear was discounted, so Lapis also bought himself a dark blue scarf and a matching beanie. Winter probably won’t be for a while yet, but it pays to be prepared. Lapis returned to his shop to stow away his purchases, then sat back at his table and tried to plan his next move. Given that my ‘disguise’ is a rain-cloak, I’d probably better wait until the next time it rains to wear it, or else I might as well just wear a sign that says “up to no good.” He glanced out the window at the sky, and was pleasantly surprised to see a large group of pegasi pushing bundles of heavy gray clouds into the sky. Huh. Guess I’m in luck. Somepony knocked on his door, and Lapis frowned, peeking at the window. Wonder who that could be… It's the Mayor? Wonder what she’s here for… Oh yeah, right. Lapis wandered over to the door and pulled it open. “Afternoon, Ms. Mayor. Is this about the water tower?” “It’s about the water tower,” Mayor Mare confirmed, nodding as she stepped inside. She was dressed in her standard attire - a plain white collar that looked like it belonged on a dress shirt, held in place by a puffy cyan ascot. “That was Ponyville’s main stockpile of fresh water, and it’s gone. I’ve got some pegasi bringing in a downpour right now, just to make sure everypony’s lawns are watered and their rain barrels are full for the next few days, but that water tower still needs to get fixed as soon as it possibly can. Luckily, the dimensions were on file, so we were able to place an order with the smith-ponies down near the Big Apple. They should have the sections for a new container built in a few days, but in the meantime… well, in the meantime, we need to make sure the support struts are stable enough to support the new container.” Lapis shook his head. “I haven’t gotten the chance to check it out yet, but I’d be willing to bet the tops of those struts are more like mulch than timber at the moment. Are there any professional carpenter-ponies in Ponyville?” “Oh, yes, there’s a group of them, but, well…” Mayor Mare grimaced and waved a hoof, her ears flopping back a little. “They aren’t cheap, and they certainly aren’t fast, either. I can’t imagine harvesting timber from the Everfree is a quick-and-easy prospect, but still, I’d much prefer to pay for your services than for theirs, if that’s at all possible.” Lapis nodded, grabbing his saddlebags from the side of the door. “Yeah, I’ve honestly been expecting something like this ever since last night. I’ll take a look, and drop by Town Hall tomorrow to tell you what I find, but I can’t promise you’ll like what I find out.” “Your expert opinion is all I ask,” Mayor Mare replied, smiling. “Oh, and of course I’m not asking you to do this for free. On paper, this is getting recorded as a consultation, so… here’s your consultation fee.” She reached into her saddlebags, then produced a hefty sack of bits. Lapis picked it up with his magic, blinking in surprise at the weight of the sack. “That should be more than enough. There’s a couple of things I’d like to wrap up around here first, but I’ll probably head out pretty soon after.” “Oh, of course! Don’t let me get in the way!” Mayor Mare chuckled, then headed out. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” “See you then!” Lapis replied, shutting the door behind her. He waited a few seconds, then pumped his hoof. This is perfect. The weather’s right for me to wear the rain-cloak, visibility will be poor enough that Twilight will have a hard time seeing me, and I even have an alibi! Grinning, he grabbed the rain-cloak out of the closet and slung it onto himself over top of his saddlebags. It was a little big, but that was intentional - with the hood up, it was impossible to tell what Lapis looked like, unless you managed to glance under the hood. All I gotta do is check out the water tower until it starts raining, then drop by the Golden Oak and hide the books somewhere inside. When Twilight or whoever else finds them, she’ll think they were just misplaced or misfiled or something instead of stolen, and presto! Charges dropped, fees forgiven, and I’ve gotten off scot-free. Lapis tied the collar of the cloak shut around his neck, leaving the hood down for the time being, and set off for the water tower. The water tower, it turned out, was a fairly isolated spot in comparison to the rest of Ponyville. It was near the cattle barn, but there weren’t many other buildings nearby - most of that space was taken up by trees with dark, dense foliage. It took Lapis a while to find a ladder up to the water tower, but once he did, it turned out that the structure was in much better shape than he’d thought. The basic shape of the structure was like a platter atop a wooden stand, with the actual water container mounted atop the platter. The stand of the structure was fine, and the platter was sturdy, if weathered. But on top of that platter was a short, thick wooden ring that had likely been used to brace the container still atop the tower, and that was splintered beyond repair. Or beyond repair that’ll take less than a day or two, anyway, Lapis thought. The force of Twilight’s magic lifting the container free had more than just broken or torn the wood - it had shattered, almost like a tree struck by lightning. It reminded Lapis of when Bon Bon had jumped through his window, except this time there was no Princess Celestia to make everything better again for the apparent fun of it. A fat, heavy raindrop caught Lapis right on the tip of his muzzle, and he blinked in surprise, then quickly put his hood up as he checked the skies. The pegasi had done their job, and now the entirety of Ponyville’s sky was covered by a gloomy gray blanket of rainclouds. The rain was starting to come down, now, and from the top of the water tower Lapis could see the last few denizens of Ponyville hurrying indoors. Lapis wasted no time getting down the ladder to the water tower, and toward the Golden Oak. Normally, you wouldn’t catch him high up anywhere in the first place, especially not when the weather was this bad - as far as he was concerned, that was basically asking to get struck by lightning. But since the weather in Equestria seemed, for the most part, to be artificial, he’d guessed that there was enough of a difference between a rain-cloud and a storm-cloud that pegasi could choose to put one in the sky, and not the other. Still, Lapis thought, climbing that ladder in the rain, without fingers, isn’t exactly the safest thing in the world either. He was within sight of the Golden Oak now, and the downpour had begun in earnest, the rain beating down on the streets in sheets, and kneading the dirt roads of Ponyville into dense, slick coats of sucking mud. Lapis was glad he didn’t need to worry about wet socks, but even still, he’d need a good, long shower once he got back to his shop - his hooves were filthy already. Lapis paused under the archway, trying to work out his plan of attack. He hadn’t been able to find Nikki in time, and even if she were here, Lapis sincerely doubted she could fly in this rain. Right now, he was basically going in blind. So, he thought, walking toward the library as casually as he could, that’s what I’ll need to fix first. I’ll peek through the window, see if Twilight’s in there, and if she’s not… well, I’ll stuff the books behind some other books on the shelves, and that’ll be that. Lapis picked a window - the small one on the front door of the building - and started forward, raising his head to peek through. He set his hoof on the doorstep, then paused as he noticed the stone beneath his hoof was a different color than usual. Huh. Was that always purple, or- Lightning struck right beside him, and Lapis yelped, tucking into a roll as he dove away from the site of impact. Mud splattered across his cloak and face, and Lapis wiped it off his eyes as quickly as he could. “Oh, my!” a voice said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you! Are you alright?” “Doing great,” Lapis replied, looking up. “Thanks for ask-” …Oh, shit. “That’s a relief. I only teleported down because my Bag-Checking Charm found my missing library books in your saddlebags, and I guess I got a little overexcited to check them back in… Wait, what’s the matter?” Twilight asked, cocking her head and blinking in confusion, a dome of purplish light hanging over her head like an umbrella. “And why are you dressed like that?” “Uh…” Lapis said. “Because it’s raining!” “Well, why not just use an Umbrella Spell?” Twilight asked, cocking an eyebrow. “…I never learned?” “But everypony learns an Umbrella Spell,” Twilight replied, squinting. “With that cloak, I'd almost think you were up to no good... Wait a minute! You’re the pony who stole the library books, aren’t you?!” Shit! “Whoa-whoa-whoa, I didn’t steal anything! I just borrowed these books before you showed up in the building, and now I’m looking to put them back. That’s all.” “Uh-huh. Then how come the Bag-Checking charm didn’t find any bits in your bag?” Twilight asked, tucking her ears back as Lapis retreated before her advance. “If you just wanted to return them, then you must’ve known there were fines on those books. And why don’t you have a library account, either?! If you were just ‘borrowing’ those books, then they would’ve been filed under a library account- hey, wait! Get back here!” Lapis wasn’t sure when he’d started galloping away, but now that he’d started, stopping seemed like a worse idea by the second. His thought process was a continuous stream of swearing as he sprinted away from the library, Twilight’s mud-splattering hoofsteps quickening to a gallop behind him. Lapis slipped and nearly fell as he hung a right, and his eyes widened as he saw that his path was blocked by a stack of barrels. He steered around them, then hurried down the road as quickly as he could- There was a muffled whump, and Lapis felt his eardrums pop as the air pressure shifted around him. Then, to his terror, a number of the barrels he’d just ran past went flying over his head, catapulted into the sky by what Lapis knew had to be Twilight’s spell. Holy-! No time to gawk! Lapis snapped his head back to the road again, and saw that it grew narrower ahead, the edges blocked by a pair of wagons, buried up to their spokes in the mud. Okay. Choke point. Maybe I can block it, buy myself some time- Swallowing, Lapis snatched one of the barrels out of the air, his own brown magic wrapping around its sides. Then, he pulled it back toward himself, gritting his teeth as his horn stung with the effort. He stood it upright between the two wagons, then pressed it into the mud by about two inches - not deep enough to jump over, but deep enough that it’d be a pain to move. He did the same with another barrel, and then two more at once on the other side of the street. He got a telekinetic grasp on the last barrel just before he passed through the narrow opening in his blockade, and slammed it into place behind him. “Oh!” he heard Twilight groan in frustration. Lapis didn’t grin - he had no doubt that Twilight would find a way past the barrels soon, he needed to come up with a new plan. I gotta either get her to lose track of me, or just evade her until she runs outta steam. Maybe if I turn into this alley, she won’t get over the barrels until I’m out of sight… Lapis turned left just as another flash of purple light erupted from the other side of the barrels, and Twilight reappeared on his side of the barricade, in front of it by about ten feet. She stumbled, swaying a little - then shook her head clear and started chasing after Lapis again. Well, there goes that plan - Whoa! Vines were sprouting out of the mud in front of Lapis, trying to wrap themselves around his hooves like tentacles as he ran across them. They got longer and longer as he stared, terrified, down the alley, looking for a way around - but there were only the walls of the buildings to either side. The wall to his left had trash cans, but the right wall was bare brick and mortar - please, please please let this work with hooves-! Lapis veered left, then sprinted forward and to the right - and in the moment just before he hit the right wall, he jumped, sprinting forward across the wall, praying that his momentum would hold until he got over the patch of vines. Then Lapis ran out of wall, yelping as he fell forward and sideways- He landed with a heavy thud on his left side, his head slapping into the mud with a thick squelch. And now my saddlebags need washed, too. Groaning, Lapis hauled himself to his hooves, then kept moving forward, turning his head to the side as he charged through a thick patch of trees, the signature purple flash of Twilight’s teleport behind him only spurring him on. New plan, new plan, come on… Lapis glimpsed a familiar-looking ladder ahead and to his right, and suddenly realized where he was. Okay, that’s crazy, but it’s better than nothing. Let’s do it. Grimacing, Lapis ran to the side of the water tower, hunching his head against the pouring rain as he climbed. In a few seconds that took minutes, he reached the top, and pulled the ladder up behind him just before Twilight emerged, huffing and puffing, from the treeline, the Umbrella Spell still hanging over her head. Lapis hadn’t realized until then just how out-of-breath he was, and suddenly it was all he could do not to collapse over the edge of the water tower’s platter. “Is he… part goat or something?” Twilight panted, staring around herself almost frantically for any sign of Lapis. Then she frowned, before slowly looking up. Lapis pulled himself away from the edge, straining to hear anything over the roar of the pouring rain. Please. Please. Just let me be done. Please. “You know I can see the ends of the ladder from down here, right?” Twilight called up. Oh for fuck’s sake. Lapis looked at the ladder, and sure enough, it was too big to fit entirely on the water tower’s “platter” - several rungs’ worth stuck off at either end. “Don’t make me come up there!” Twilight called back again. “The longer you’re out in the rain, the more likely those books are to get damaged!” …Yeah, the mud’s probably ruined them. Or… Oh, wait, no, I kept them in my other saddlebag. They’re good. I think. Twilight huffed. “Fine! I’m getting a ladder, and when I come back, it’ll be with backup!” The sound of stomping hoofsteps echoed up to Lapis’ ears. Carefully, he peeked back over the side, and saw that Twilight was indeed marching back toward the rest of Ponyville. Okay. Okay, now’s my chance. Carefully, as quietly as he could, Lapis levitated the ladder off the edge of the platter, braced it up against the side, and climbed onto the top few rungs. Then, after double-checking to make sure Twilight was gone, Lapis started to slide down the ladder, ignoring the pop as the wooden structure shifted in the wind- Except Lapis wasn’t going down. He was sliding down the glowing-purple ladder, alright, but he was still going up, back over the side of the platter, where Twilight was waiting with a smug grin, her mane and coat bone-dry thanks to the Umbrella Spell still hanging over her head. “Now,” she said, “let’s try that conversation again.” And that was when Lapis ran out of ladder, and the ground rushed up to meet him- “Whoooaaa-!” “Oh no-!” The ladder slid into place beneath him out of nowhere, still glowing purple as Lapis hit it, and suddenly everything went dark- “…Ow,” Lapis wheezed. “Oh, everything hurts…” He was on the ground, the ladder broken beneath him, his impact cartoonishly imprinted into the mud around him. Lapis didn’t stop to question his survival. Instead, he stumbled into the trees as quickly as he could, but he tripped on a root and fell over again only ten feet past the treeline. Grimacing, he sat back up, trying to shake the fog out of his head and looking back at the water tower, squinting and shielding his eyes from the rain with one hoof. Twilight was trying to lift the broken pieces of the ladder out of the mud, gritting her teeth and straining as they trembled a few inches above the ground - but as he watched, the coating of her purple magic on the ladder’s parts flickered, then vanished entirely. A few seconds later, the Umbrella Spell above Twilight’s head disappeared with a crackling hiss, Twilight yelping as sparks shot off her horn. Is she… outta juice? She’s outta juice. …I got away. Lapis hauled himself onto his hooves, grimacing as a jolt of pain shot through his knees, then turned to leave… “…Help!” Lapis froze, frowning and shutting his eyes, his ears tucking back inside his hood. “Don’t say that,” he muttered. Then, he turned back around to look. Twilight had huddled down on top of the platter, but Lapis could still see that she was absolutely drenched, howling gusts of wind chilling the sheets of rain even further as they pounded down on her. She was shivering, and as Lapis watched, her horn flickered with magic - then sparks shot off it as she grunted again, her tank still as empty as it had been a few moments before. “Help,” she called again, her voice less certain this time. “Anypony?” Cold. Oh, that's cold. Twilight was shivering so much, she almost didn’t feel the thump beneath her hooves. She wrenched her eyes open, and for a second she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was the top few rungs of the ladder, gripped in a coat of telekinetic magic that was either almost invisible, or else just matched the brownish color of the ladder’s wood almost perfectly. As she watched, the ladder shifted, then settled against the ground below with a solid, reassuring thunk. “Oh, thank Celestia,” she muttered, slowly heaving herself to her hooves. They were still shivering, and Twilight tried again to cast her Heart-Warming spell, wincing as her horn sparked again with mana-burn. Really, Twilight? Three teleportation spells in a ROW, the night after you horn-pressed an Ursa Minor and a water tower full of milk? You’re not Celestia, you know. You have limits. Twilight continued to shiver as she slowly climbed down the water tower, being as careful as possible to leave herself no chance of slipping whatsoever. It was a miracle that other unicorn, the book-thief, had survived the fall, and she didn’t trust her luck to grant her two miracles in one day. So, so cold. Oh, that’s cold. When Twilight finally set her hooves on mostly-solid ground, she was met with another surprise. There, on a stick jutting up out of the mud, hung the stranger’s cloak. Its outside was covered in mud, but Twilight quickly discovered that the inside was almost dry. Twilight wasted no time slinging the cloak about herself, pulling the cord close around her neck and raising the hood. She felt warmer already, but she was still keen to get back to the Golden Oak as quickly as she could - Spike could have a roaring fire and a cup of shimmerberry tea ready in less than ten minutes, and the combination sounded like just the thing she needed to get some body heat and magic back. Still, she hesitated as she looked around at the treeline. She wasn’t sure the mystery pony was still there, but still… “Thank you!” she called. Nopony replied. When she got back to the Golden Oak a few minutes later, she found the three missing books sitting on the floor, utterly mud-free, just a few feet beyond the welcome mat. They, too, were almost dry. The first thing that Lapis did, when he woke up the following morning, was sneeze. The second thing was that he went to go blow his nose, as were the third and fourth. Lapis hated colds. He especially hated them when he knew exactly why he’d caught them, and what he could’ve done - but didn’t do - not to catch them. If he’d kept his cloak on, instead of hanging it on a stick at the base of the freshly-fixed ladder. If he’d gone straight back to his shop, instead of galloping to the Golden Oak from the water tower and then to his shop from the Golden Oak. If he’d done either of those things, he’d be as healthy as a horse. Hardy har har. Thank you, English language, you’re hilarious. After a hot shower, an omelet, a mug of coffee, and a glass of water, Lapis was feeling close enough to better that he was up to visiting the Town Hall. It was a beautiful morning - the sunrise was all rose-gold clouds, on blue skies so bright and clear that Lapis half-expected them to shimmer. The breeze was just crisp and fast enough to wake him up, but not so cold as to make him shiver - while the sunlight was warm without baking him, just warm enough to soothe the ache in his bruised hip. There were a couple of different falls that could’ve been responsible for his hip, but Lapis wasn’t really feeling up to playing the blame game - no matter what he picked, the blame always ended up back on himself. The same was true for his cold, and as Lapis grew closer to the doors of Town Hall, he found himself running over the details of his chase with Twilight Sparkle, over and over again. The second-biggest mistake Lapis had made, as far as he could tell, was fixing the ladder for Twilight to climb down on. That ladder had been broken before he’d moved it, and repaired seamlessly afterward. If Twilight noticed that detail, connected it to Mend-All spells, and asked around town about any ponies who were extra-good at fixing stuff, Lapis was basically toast. Then again, Lapis thought, she didn’t seem to have the firmest grasp on what spells most unicorns were familiar with using on a daily basis. I’ve never seen any pony but her using an Umbrella Spell, Lyra included. Maybe she’ll think Mend-Alls are another thing she thinks all unicorns are familiar with - though, I guess I can’t rely on a 'maybe'. The runner-up for second-biggest mistake was delivering the books back to Twilight’s house. If she did have some spells that did detective work, Lapis had basically left his hoofprints all over those books - though, he wasn’t sure if hoofprints were a method of identification used in Equestria. He hadn’t yet been asked to provide his, after all. The biggest mistake, however, didn’t have any competitors. He’d talked to Twilight, directly. More than that, he’d quite possibly let her save his life, though he might’ve returned the favor, maybe. He’d returned the books, alright, but now Twilight had personal motivation to find him, and that was - in theory - infinitely worse than a trio of missing library books. Lapis didn’t think Twilight had seen his face, since he’d just caked everything but his eyes in mud - all the same, getting anywhere near Twilight was an absolute no, at least for however long it took for her memory to fade. All that, and Lapis still wasn’t any closer to figuring out a fraction of what his damn horn could do. Twilight had teleported, created gusts of wind strong enough to throw barrels, and brought plants to life during their chase, and Lapis hadn’t been able to defend himself in any way but telekinesis and terrible parkour. He was under-equipped, under-prepared, and under-informed for where he was and what he needed to do. So… basically just test season all over again. When Lapis walked into the Town Hall, he was quickly greeted by a secretary, who ushered him to a small side room. There, the Mayor was busy poking through a vaguely-familiar pile of brightly-colored wood scraps. Objects were piled in neat stacks against the front wall - a pile of identical starry-blue, wide-brimmed hats, a stack of matching cloaks, what looked like a curling iron, and some other boxy objects that Lapis couldn’t make out. “Oh!” the Mayor said, quickly standing up. “Good morning, Lapis. I wasn’t expecting you over here so soon, I was just looking through the wreckage of that magician’s cart. We’ve been hoping she’d come back and claim it, but since she hasn’t… well, here in a few hours it’ll become legally identical to litter, and therefore becomes town property, so I thought I’d go ahead and see whether there was anything worth keeping out of a landfill. Are you alright? You’re limping a little.” “I am?” Lapis asked, glancing back at his own flank in confusion. “Huh. Well, I slipped as I was getting off the ladder, but I didn’t think it was that bad. No, I’m all good, but I wish I could say the same for the brace - it’s a giant ring of wood on top of the, uh, plate-shaped part, and it’s splintered bad enough that repairing it would take me a good three days to fix. The rest of it is fine, but that brace needs fixed.” Mayor Mare sighed. “Well, I suppose it could’ve been worse. Thank you, Lapis. I know being Ponyville’s repair-pony isn’t an easy job, and I know that my consultation was a lot to ask…” She paused, glancing around the room. “You know… why don’t you have a look around? There are a few things I’ve found in this wagon that aren’t completely tacky, and unless Ms. Lulamoon comes back in the next three-and-a-half hours, they’re town property… and since you’re a town employee, that’s legitimate enough reason for you to have something from the pile!” “Oh,” Lapis said, blinking in surprise. “Uh, sure. Let me look around real quick. Thanks, Ms. Mayor.” Mayor Mare chuckled. “Please, just call me Mare.” She got back to digging in the pile, and after a few moments, Lapis started looking through the stacks by the wall. He skipped over the robes, hats, and curling iron - “fairy-tale wizard” wasn’t really his style, and neither was a curled mane. Instead, he proceeded straight to the boxy objects. The first in the stack was a simple wooden box, which by all accounts appeared to be empty. The second and third objects, however, were books - both the dustiest Lapis had ever seen, and so worn-down that he half-expected them to fall apart as he picked them up. One was a volume bound in faded black-and-yellow canvas, the cover of which had been hastily covered by star-painted tape and labeled “The Great and Powerful Trixie’s Tome of Untold Magical Secrets.” Lapis carefully removed the central strip of tape, and almost laughed aloud - underneath, the book’s genuine title was Magic 4 Dummies. This is one of the books Lyra recommended for me, Lapis realized, and he shoved it into his freshly-cleaned saddlebag without a second thought, quickly grabbing the other book. This volume was bound in a dark brown substance which looked oddly like rubber, or possibly pleather. It certainly wasn’t genuine leather - the sheen of it was all wrong for that, as was the color. Carefully, Lapis opened the book to the first page that had words on it, and began to read… Lesson One, for any pony who picks up this book, is this: keep a notebook, and record everything. There are no words or conventions in Equish, or any other language, that are capable of providing adequate emphasis to the sentence above. Should you develop genuine prowess in the science of artifice, you will rapidly construct devices with more components, static and moving, than you could ever hope to remember. Carving a label into each is one method of ensuring you remember their identity; however, the hardness of many metals mean that this method is best reserved for ponies who value neither their time nor their sanity. As such, you will keep a notebook, in which you describe in complete detail the process by which you design, refine, and assemble your creations. In addition, you will draw diagrams, at every angle, face, and diagonal, of both the assembled and exploded configurations of your inventions. In these diagrams, you will label the size, material, and purpose of every plate, rod, and sheet, every nut, bolt, washer, screw, and stud. I do not write the words “you will” as an order. I write them as a statement of fact: you will do these things not because I say you will, but because you will find it is the only way to practice artifice and retain your sanity… Lapis snorted and rolled his eyes. “Sounds like my old Engineering 101 professor,” he muttered. “What?” Mayor Mare said, sticking her head up from the pile of wood scraps. “Nothing,” Lapis called back, and flipped to the next page, which contained example diagrams. He frowned as he examined them, then his eyes widened as he recognized the angles from which they’d been drawn. Lapis read on, and his jaw almost dropped as he found the first definitions… Artifice is the practice of manipulating free-flowing mana via physical materials, rather than by the channelling of a unicorn’s will through the methods commonly referred to as a “spell.” Free-flowing mana, meanwhile, is the term used to describe magic that is ready to be put to use, whether it is drawn from the aether of Equestria or siphoned off a unicorn’s own reservoir by way of telekinetic grasping of a controlled-pulse mana siphon. A diagram of this device, with accompanying explanation, may be found on the following page… A slow, wide grin spread across Lapis’ face. This doesn’t just sound like an engineering textbook. It is an engineering textbook - an entry-level guide to magical engineering. I have half a degree in engineering. That's probably plenty. “Find something you like?” Mayor Mare asked. Lapis snapped the book shut, then deliberately tucked it into his saddlebags. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I did.” I gotta get out of the house more often, he thought, and chuckled. And for the first time since he'd arrived in Equestria, he felt prepared. “Dear Princess Celestia,” Twilight dictated, and then she paused. “…I don’t know, Spike, is this really a ‘Dear-Princess-Celestia’ problem?” Spike hastily scribbled out a few words, then huffed. “Twilight, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but every week you write to the princess about your friendship drama. This is kind of a bigger deal.” “But that’s different!” Twilight replied, waving a hoof. “I was specifically instructed to learn about friendship, and I’m informing her of exactly what I learned on a weekly basis. And in addition… well, I suspect she has other motives, but it would be rude of me to make assumptions about the Princess’ intentions-” “C’mon, Twilight, just say it!” Spike said, spreading his arms. “You think she’s checking in on you to make sure you’re not turning into a hermit-pony again, like you were back in Canterlot when you found the prophecy!” “What? No, I thought she might’ve been lonely,” Twilight said, cocking her head in confusion. She blinked, then clapped a hoof to her mouth as she realized what she’d said. “Don’t write that?” “I won’t,” Spike replied. “But Twilight, whoever this unicorn is, he left you up a water tower. You! You fought Nightmare Moon and won-” “I didn’t really fight her,” Twilight mumbled. “-and he managed to strip away your magic and leave you stuck on a water tower, in the rain, without even an umbrella!” Twilight sucked a breath in through her teeth, her ears tucking back. “Well… he didn’t really ‘strip away’ my magic, either.” “What do you mean?” Spike asked, leaning past the side of his parchment and cocking an eyebrow. “Well… I might’ve… sorta teleported while I was chasing him, and-” Spike sighed, lowering the parchment and quill, his ear fins drooping in exasperation. “How many times?” Twilight’s ears flopped back on her head, and she averted her eyes. “Three,” she muttered. Spike slow-blinked, then rolled the parchment back into a scroll and tossed it over his shoulder. “Forget everything I just said.” He stood up from the chair, cracked his knuckles and back, then stumped off into the kitchen. “I’m making you a whole pot of shimmerberry tea, you’re going to drink it, and then you’re going to go to bed and not cast any spells tomorrow.” He poked his head back through the doorway, shooting her a suspicious glare. “Any. Spells. Got it?” “…Thank you,” Twilight replied. “But aren’t you still concerned about the water-tower thing?” “Well, if it hadn’t put you in danger, I guess I’d kinda be impressed,” Spike replied. “He gave the books back, so he really didn’t mean to steal them, and I guess he just panicked when you accused him. And… well, I mean, if you were chasing this stallion the way you usually chase a loose book, then it’s kind of a miracle he managed to get away! …You didn’t get him, right?” Spike added, popping his head back into the room again, glancing around as if he expected to see a pony hog-tied and hanging from the ceiling. “I almost did,” Twilight muttered, and then she sighed. “And that’s the problem. I almost got him really, really hurt, Spike. He was sliding down the ladder, and I thought, ‘Oh, I’ll just pull the ladder back up, that’ll stop him!’” Twilight pantomimed an empty-eyed, dull smile with the last sentence, then sighed, her ears flopping back on her head again. “Kinda forgot about gravity, and he slid off the end of the ladder. I was quick enough to catch him, but that’s about the same time my magic ran out, and, well…” Twilight paused, her ears cocking half-upright. “Huh.” “What is it?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. “You know… it’s the strangest thing, but I could’ve sworn that ladder was broken when my magic fizzled,” Twilight said, tapping her chin with a hoof. “But when he put it up to let me climb down, it was fixed. I think one of the books he returned might’ve been about… Mend-All spells, maybe? Let me just- ah!” Twilight yelped as a spark shot off her horn, raising a hoof to rub it gingerly. Spike sighed. “Oh, no you don’t. Listen, Twilight, whatever he did to fix the ladder, it worked! He got you down, and now you’re safe, and now you’re staying in bed. And tomorrow, you’re going to find this pony and apologize to him.” “That’s the thing - I can’t!” Twilight said, waving her hooves and falling backward into her bed. “I never got a good look at his face, it was covered in mud since the first time I saw him. I don’t know who he is, I don’t know what colors his coat or mane are, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him before!” “Of course you haven’t, Twilight,” Spike replied, walking back out of the room. “Ponyville’s a small town, but it’s not that small. There’s no way you’d get to know everypony in town!” “Well, not yet, anyway,” Twilight muttered, turning to stare out her window. “I only just moved here.” She frowned, furrowing her brow in concentration. “Hmm… but Pinkie might.” Spike popped his head back into the room. “Hey, I can make some chocolate chip cookies to go with that shimmerberry tea, if you want them.” Twilight hesitated, glancing back and forth. "Spike, I wasn't really turning into a hermit-pony, was I?" “...No,” Spike said, his eyes wide and innocent. “Would you like some chocolate chip cookies?” Twilight’s ears tucked back, and she smiled as she gave a small nod. Spike grinned. “Gotcha. Comin’ right up!” Spike withdrew from the room, and Twilight resumed staring out the window. Her brow furrowed in focus as she looked at the Sugarcube Corner Bakery, and tried to figure out what the least bizarre way to approach Pinkie for help would be.