Yesterday afternoon, Lapis Print had discovered four piles of metal ingots in his basement, and shaped those metal ingots into a mana siphon. This evening, he was taking that mana siphon, a second he’d constructed not long after testing the effects of different gems, and two more he’d cobbled together earlier in the day, and finding out what happened when a whole bunch of magic was all pushed into one place at once.
The mana siphons were the key ingredients for this experiment. Lapis had jerry-rigged a simple frame out of spare lumber and wood screws, shaped into a rough tetrahedron - a three-sided pyramid, with the iron nub of a pump protruding from each corner. I’d prefer to have a cube, honestly, but for now I’ll make do with what I’ve got.
Carefully, Lapis moved the pyramid to the center of the workshop, then retreated partway up the stairs, levitating his notebook and a pencil along with him. Flipping to the first blank page, he wrote:
Entry One
- Objective: Observe the effects of mechanically concentrating magic. Description of the EoH as “magical foci” noted that they were capable of sending living creatures to the moon - focusing magic via less artifact-y means might be equally helpful for transportation.
- Hypothesis: No clear prediction for results. However, the desired effect of portal generation will likely not be achieved, because even in Equestria, nothing is ever that easy. Additionally, the mana may leak free of the current frame via the uncovered faces, along the same pathway as the air.
- Method: Four mana siphons with mounted-on quartz crystals placed at the vertices of a rough tetrahedron will drain magic from the researcher’s reservoir and release it into the center of the tetrahedron, concentrating it into a central point while allowing air to disperse.
- Results:
“…Time to get some,” Lapis muttered. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the pyramid, then telekinetically grasped the mana siphons.
At once, he felt the familiar tugging sensation of his magical reserves being drained, and a few seconds later, the mana siphons flared to life, Lapis’ own magic pouring from the four quartz crystals as a shifting, candlelight-colored glow.
Lapis watched intently as the magic collected in the center of the pyramid, blinking away his faint, growing fatigue as the magic coalesced into a luminous orb. Okay. So far, so good. Looks like magic might prefer to concentrate itself, if it’s really not going to just leak out the open sides-
A slow, ominous creak echoed through the basement, punctuated by an ominous crackling sound as a dark, jagged line appeared on one of the wooden legs of the frame. Uh-oh.
Lapis released his telekinetic grip on the siphons at once, backing further up the stairs. A split second later, there was a crack like a gunshot, and a foot-long shard of wood spun through the space that Lapis had been occupying moments before. It shattered on impact with the stone wall of the basement, Lapis shutting his eyes and turning his head just before his face was showered with splinters.
After five seconds, when nothing exploded, caught fire, or made funny noises, Lapis opened his eyes and crept back into the basement, keeping alert for the slightest sign of any further accidents. The mana siphon at the top of the pyramid seemed to have burst free of its confines, shattering the wood of the tetrahedron in its brief, high-speed quest to touch the ceiling - however, now that Lapis wasn’t feeding it his magic, it was slowly sinking back to the floor, the light that had propelled it fading away as it dropped onto the pile of wood scraps that once had been a frame.
Lapis approached the pile, and levitated up the largest pieces he could find. To his surprise, it wasn’t just the bits of wood attached to the top siphon that had broken - all of them were bowed, their outsides splitting to let their insides arch, as if they’d been sat on by a giant…
“Or,” Lapis muttered, “subjected to high pressure.” He pulled over his notebook, and began to write again:
- Results: Immediately following siphon activation, the magic expelled by the siphons began to gather into a sphere at the frame’s center. However, approximately fifteen seconds post-activation, the framework developed a large fracture on one wooden beam. The researcher attributes this phenomenon to conflicting thrust produced by the siphons.
Almost immediately following the development of the fracture, the concentration device underwent rapid unplanned disassembly. While standardized terminology has yet to be discovered, this researcher believes the cause to be something akin to a pressure buildup.
- Discussion: No portals were generated during the testing process; however, the initial centralization of the mana expelled by the pumps may suggest a natural tendency of mana to gravitate toward itself. Additionally, the mana siphons may yet show promise for the purposes of transportation, if their basic design is modified for thrust generation rather than magic focusing.
Lapis took a second to look around his workshop again. There was still a dusting of splinters on his face, and piles of fractured wood littered the edges of the room where the other legs had split. He certainly wasn’t going to try repairing the lumber, that would easily be a multiple-hour job - but sweeping it up wasn’t going to be fast, either. He’d have to be quick if he wanted to get to bed on time, and considering Lyra’s concert was the following day, getting his rest would be important.
Lapis sighed, then touched his pencil back to the page, already levitating a broom and dustpan down from the closet. ...Further research required.
He hadn’t really been expecting much else to come from his initial test. He’d been expecting failure, mentally braced even for spectacular failure. Or so Lapis had thought, anyway. He was proved wrong just after he was done sweeping up the splinters of the wooden frame, when he was presented with the task of dumping the wreckage of his first serious attempt at getting to Earth into his trash can. Lapis stared down at the rough pile of splinters and sawdust inside his dustpan, and felt a slow, creeping panic trying to claw its way up his throat.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, forcing his fear back down. It’s just trash. I’m not admitting defeat, I’m just cleaning up. I knew it was a long shot when I started, there’s no reason for me to get all worked up over it. And still the wooden shrapnel continued to hover above his trash can, the splinters remaining undumped.
It had been a long shot, alright. It was one of the longest long shots Lapis had ever had. But it was also the only real hope he’d had since he got dumped in Equestria, and it had almost literally blown up in his face. I knew it wasn’t going to work, but I tried it anyway, and it damn well could’ve killed me! Who knows what the hell else might happen, if I keep going like this? I’ve gotta be more careful, but if I take too long-
“I have to do better,” Lapis muttered, doing his best to ignore the quiet scratching sounds of the splinters shifting in the dustpan. “I have to get this under control.” He took another deep breath, then opened his eyes.
…Had the splinters always been that neatly-piled in the dustpan? They certainly were now, stacked into a tidy, almost deliberate-looking wedge, with the smallest fragments near the front of the dustpan and the largest at the back, near the handle. Lapis found his eyes drawn to one especially jagged-looking shard of torn wood, split almost into a Y by the magical pressure he’d subjected it to.
Carefully, so as not to further break the already-broken wood, Lapis levitated the large chunk of wood out of the dustpan, dumping the rest into the trash can. He carried the shard over to his workbench and laid it near the back, right in the middle, where he’d be able to see it. Maybe this way, I’ll remember to be more careful next time. Make myself something sturdy to duck behind, or something.
And hopefully, I’ll be better able to handle it when things go south. Lapis sighed, then headed upstairs for his bed, his knees suddenly jittery with fatigue. Maybe.
When Lapis emerged from his bedroom the following morning, he was surprised to see not one, but three pigeons sitting on the table by the window, having what sounded like a conversation made up entirely of trilling coos and chirps. All three of them looked up as Lapis passed the table, falling silent as if waiting for him to leave.
Lapis frowned, pausing to inspect the trio of birds. One of them was Nikki - her glare was pretty familiar by now - but the other two, he didn’t recognize.
“Friends of yours?” Lapis asked, glancing between Nikki and the other two pigeons.
Nikki shrugged, then made a so-so gesture with her wing. Lapis frowned. “O-kay then.” What is this, a gossip club? A meet-up? Does Ponyville have a pigeon mafia or something?
…Actually, you know what? Nikki’s been nice enough not to push too far into my business, so I’ll keep my nose out of hers.
“Tell you what, I’m headed to work,” Lapis said. “I won’t ask any questions about whatever you’re doing, just don’t make a mess, don’t involve Pinkie or her friends, and please try not to set anything on fire. Deal?”
Nikki and the other two pigeons awkwardly glanced at each other for a moment, then Nikki nodded.
“Good,” Lapis said, opening his front door and levitating the order slips off his request board as he slung his saddlebags onto his back. “See you when I get back.”
He left the building, glancing up and down the street before quickly shuffling through his list of orders. Lot of banners today, must be some kind of celebration going on… better get these done quick if I want to make Lyra’s concert this afternoon. Let’s see… a roof, as usual. A doorframe with some cracked trim, and… huh. A rabbit hutch? Who owns bunnies?
…Wait a minute.
Lapis frantically checked the order slip, and breathed a relieved sigh when he saw that Fluttershy’s name wasn’t on it. Okay, good. Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, it’s kind of a miracle that none of the protagonists have put in a request with me yet. Where are these orders at, anyway?
He flicked through the order slips. The rabbit hutch was at some house on Cantering Boulevard, while the roof was on a nearby side street. Can probably knock the both of those out inside of an hour or two, especially if they’re both outside. Now, where’s that doorframe?
…Oh, come on!
Lapis paused in the middle of the road, staring down at the order slip as if he could force its address to change through sheer force of will alone. Unfortunately, the pencil lead scrawled across the bottom half of the slip didn’t change, the letters stubbornly continuing to spell out the words ‘Apple family home, Sweet Apple Acres.’
Welp. Sorry, Lyra, but it looks like I might be busy all day long. Lapis took a deep breath, set his jaw, and briefly checked over the contents of his saddlebags, making sure his mask was there as he mentally ran through the invisibility incantation. Not that he was expecting to use his mask, of course - he strongly doubted it would work on Applejack.
Still, this would only be his second time doing a repair job on protagonist property - and if fixing Pinkie’s table had taught him anything, it was that it paid to be prepared.
Lapis had been to apple orchards before. In Ohio, at least, apple farms were easier to visit than a lot of people expected - often, the same farmers that were crowd-tolerant enough to run pick-your-own-pumpkin patches would also have a sprawling orchard or two for picking your own apples. He had fond memories of walking up and down the neat rows of lush, shortish trees, watching his breath fog in the crisp autumn air as he looked over the more promising apples for any sign of bugs, then pulling the best selections free of their branch with a clean, satisfying pop before placing them in the basket in his free hand. Maybe it was because they were fresh off the tree, or maybe it had just been in his head - but somehow, apples had always tasted better when he’d picked them himself.
Sweet Apple Acres was like those orchards in that it had apple trees - short, as trees went, the bright, rough ovals of their foliage dotted with the shining red or paler-green shapes of apples. But that’s where the similarities ended. Instead of having neat, wide rows built for four-wheelers to ride down, the trees were scattered almost at random, showing no signs of organization besides the gaps or fences between different varieties of apple. In addition, instead of bugs being his primary company, Lapis found that the wildlife he could spot was mostly made up of chipmunks and various birds, with the occasional squirrel darting up or down one of the apple trees’ narrow trunks.
Although… it was odd, but the animals didn’t seem to be foraging. Lapis frowned as he watched one of the squirrels run right past three or four promising apples to a hole in the tree trunk, pull a good four acorns from its cheeks and stuff them in the hole, then squeeze itself inside and hurriedly yank a leaf over the entrance. It’s the wrong weather for that, but this almost looks like they’re getting ready for a storm. Maybe it’s just the wrong time of year for foraging or something? No, wait, squirrels just don’t eat apples - but then, why are they over here?
In any case, Lapis had bigger things to worry about than the wildlife. The Apple family house - a large building that looked for all the world like an oversized, complicated barn - was just visible over the top of a hill now, and Lapis wasted no time trying to come up with a plan of attack. Applejack wasn’t anywhere Lapis could see yet, which worried him - if he didn’t know where she was, that meant she could descend on him at any minute.
He paused, then warily looked around himself. Nope, nowhere around here. Besides, if she were working in these orchards, I’m pretty sure I’d hear her - she usually harvests the apples by kicking the trees real hard, if I remember right.
Lapis sighed, advancing up the hill toward the barn. So that means I’ve gotta get up there and peek through the windows to see if she’s there, and hope that she and the rest of her family don’t see me acting like a weirdo- There!
Lapis hastily ducked behind a tree as Applejack stepped out of one of the barn’s side doors. She took off her Stetson hat for just long enough to duck under the yoke of a decent-size, empty cart, then hastened down the hill at a right angle from Lapis’ approach, toward an extra-full cluster of apple trees. It was hard to tell from where he was, but Applejack’s face looked… confused? Annoyed?
Whatever’s going on, it’s going on away from me, Lapis thought. And if I’m fast enough, hopefully that’ll be all I need to worry about.
…Although, if I did have to make contact with a protagonist, it’d probably be Applejack, Lapis realized as he hurried up the hill. Based on what I’ve seen of her during the Summer Sun Celebration, she’s pretty well inclined to keep the wild cards of the group in check, so hopefully that’d extend to not making too much trouble for me, either. Plus, she ends up working up here most of the time, so I likely wouldn’t end up seeing much of her, either.
Still, it’s too much of a risk.
Lapis waited until he could see Applejack working on the cluster of apple trees before he gently knocked on the door to the Apple family home. A few moments later, the door slowly, creakily opened, revealing an elderly, pale-green mare squinting at him from behind it. “…Who is it?”
“Oh, good morning, Granny Smith,” Lapis said, recognizing the tight no-nonsense bun of the mare’s mane. “It’s the repair-pony. I hear there’s a doorframe that needed fixed?”
Granny Smith’s squint deepened. “Ah remember yeh. Yer the pony who fixed mah cookin’-pot, weren’t yeh?”
“That’d be me,” Lapis said. “Thanks again for helping make that oatmeal for the town, it was delicious.”
“Mm.” Granny Smith creaked back from the doorway, pulling the door open behind her. “Ah know which door yeh’re talkin’ about, but it wasn’ me who called yeh here. Lemme show yeh to yer job, then Ah’ll get Macintosh to come see to payin’ yeh.”
“Thanks a bunch,” Lapis said. …Does she not like me or something? I mean, yeah, I offended her about the oatmeal, but there’s no way she holds a grudge for that long, right?
It didn’t take too long of a walk before Granny Smith and Lapis reached the doorframe in question. Lapis spotted the problem at once - the trim-piece at the edge of the floor had warped away from the wall, likely thanks to humidity. He could see the painted-over tacks jutting from the underside of the board, and grimaced at the sight of the wood that the tacks had been embedded in - it was dark from moisture, and looked almost spongy to the touch. …Yeah, that’s bad news. Not sure how I’ll fix that one, but I’ve come all this way, so I may as well try.
“Ah told Macintosh to just git a new board and stick it on,” Granny Smith said, “but he was keen on lettin’ yeh try yer hooves first. Said somethin’ about not likin’ the look of the wood underneath.”
Lapis pulled a screwdriver from his saddlebags and gave the wood a firm poke, then winced at the droplet of moisture that rolled down the length of the tool. “Yeah, I’m sorry to say it, but I think he had good reason. Not sure why, but there’s a lot of moisture buildup in this wood - I’ll do my best to get that trim-piece back in, but if I were you, I don’t think I’d plan on living in this building much longer. Might not be safe.”
Granny Smith snorted, but Lapis saw her ears twitch back for a fraction of a second. “Nonsense. This barn’s got strong timbers. It’s stood strong fer fifty-odd years, and it’ll stand fer another ten yet.”
“Well, the timbers might stand, but it’s more the floor and walls I’m worried about. If there’s this much water damage down here, who knows where else it’s gotten to,” Lapis said. “Especially considering that you’re uphill - it’s pretty tough for water to seep into anything at the top of a hill, so if it has, then it’s gathering somewhere. If you have a cellar, maybe, I’d check for flooded rooms. …And then, otherwise, I’d stay out of the cellar as much as I could, considering what kind of bad shape the floor might be in,” he added on. “Of course, I’d get a second opinion before you take my word for it, but that’s what I’m suspecting.”
“Huh,” Granny Smith grunted, beginning the slow, creaky process of turning toward the door. “’Spose Ah best leave yeh to it an’ check the cellar, then. Lemme get Macintosh, an’ then Ah’ll git outta yer mane.”
“Thanks,” Lapis said. “And I’m sorry for the bad news.”
Granny Smith hmphed. “Don’ be sorry. Not like yer the reason fer any of it.” She tottered off, leaving Lapis staring at the piece of warped trim.
I know Mend-Alls can put together broken things, but… unbending bent things? Lapis sighed, then carefully gripped the trim piece with his telekinesis. Let’s find out.
Slowly, cautiously, Lapis began trying to straighten out the trim - and, to his dismay, it snapped almost immediately. Closer inspection of the break revealed that the trim-piece, too, was saturated. Wow, this building’s basically made of wet cardboard at this point, huh?
Lapis put the pieces back together, and they repaired themselves with the usual flash of light - then, he tried to straighten the board, only to find it snap along the same line. Well, shit. Looks like I’ll need to point them to a professional carpenter.
“Lapis?” a deep voice asked. Lapis blinked, then turned around to find a well-built earth-pony stallion with a maroon coat and an orange mane poking his head into the room. Lapis recognized the other stallion immediately - it was Big Macintosh, the pony who’d burnt his hooves propping up a cauldron full of oatmeal during the Summer Sun Celebration.
“Hey, Big Mac,” Lapis said, carefully setting down the trim-piece. “How’s it going? Your hooves heal up okay?”
“E-yup,” Big Mac replied, stepping the rest of the way into the room and grinning. “Was hopin’ Ah’d see you before the next time somethin’ near me was broken, but Ah s’pose Ah’ve been keepin’ busy.”
“You and me both,” Lapis replied, grimacing. “I swear, if I have to patch one more pegasus-shaped hole in somepony’s thatch, I’ll start talking to Mayor Mare about restricting the airspace above Ponyville. But anyway, yeah, I would’ve come and found you if I got a spare moment…”
And if you weren’t literally working next to a protagonist for about as long as I’ve been here.
“…it might’ve saved me from having to deliver some bad news like this,” Lapis finished.
Big Mac nodded, his face grim as he glanced at the trim-piece. “E-yup. Ah s’pect Ah already know what it is, but go on and tell me anyway, just in case.”
Lapis relayed his suspicions about the state of the house’s stability, and though Big Mac’s face appeared to remain stoic, Lapis thought he saw a faint tightness building around the bigger stallion’s eyes as he spoke, and especially as he briefly broke and re-mended the trim-piece to demonstrate his point.
“…So, assuming Granny Smith finds what I think she’ll find, I’d start worrying about finding the lumber for a new house,” Lapis finished.
“E-yup,” Big Mac replied. Then he sighed. “And we just finished buckin’ the Gala orchards. Applejack won’t be glad to hear this.”
“Granny Smith certainly wasn’t,” Lapis replied. “…Speaking of her, you think she’s mad at me or something? She didn’t seem too glad to see me.”
“Nope. She’s just happier when us Apples can take care of ourselves,” Big Mac replied, half a crooked grin curling across his face. “She was here when Ponyville was built, an’ helped build the town into what it is today. It’s as like as not that she helped raise this barn.”
“Oh. Yeah, I get it,” Lapis said, glancing around the building again. “Quite the achievement - this house and the whole town, I mean. Fixing this stuff on a regular basis kinda drives home how much work must’ve gone into it all.”
“E-yup. Nopony builds a town alone, though,” Big Mac responded. “…Say, what’re you up to today?”
“More than I’m comfortable with, but it’s not all work,” Lapis replied. “I’ve got a roof to patch up and a rabbit hutch to look over, but once those are done, I’ll be headed to a little concert - a friend of mine is performing. You?”
“Well, Ah figured Ah might go out and about in town today,” Big Mac said, “what with Princess Celestia comin’ to visit and all.”
Lapis immediately felt his brain short-circuit. “Wait, she’s doing what? Here? Today?”
“You didn’t hear?” Big Mac asked. “Well, she is. That’s what all those banners and flower-baskets are about for.”
“Huh,” Lapis muttered, doing his best to suppress his rising panic. “Well, uh, here’s hoping it goes better than last time.”
Big Mac chuckled. “E-yup. Though, if you wanna get those jobs done ‘fore she arrives, Ah suppose Ah’d better not keep you here too long.”
“Uh, yeah,” Lapis said, glancing over at the trim-piece. “Thanks for the heads-up, and… well, listen, I know there’s usually a fee involved with getting me to come over, but seeing as I wasn’t really able to fix anything, and you’re probably going to need all the spare bits you can get, there’s no charge.”
Big Mac grinned that crooked grin again. “One more thing for Granny Smith to be grumpy over, but Ah’ll thank you for it. Now get on outta here, ‘fore the princess arrives.”
“Right. See you around, Big Mac!” Lapis said, turning for the door.
“C’mon back now, ya hear?” Big Mac replied, just as Lapis reached the front door. He glanced around for any sign of Applejack, then hurried on his way down the hill towards Ponyville, his mind racing as the last thing Princess Celestia had said to him echoed in his head:
“I look forward to seeing you again, Lapis Print.”
The first place that Lapis went, once he got back to Ponyville, was his shop. If Princess Celestia really was coming here again, he needed to keep her as far away from his base of operations as possible, just in case she would somehow be able to glean anything from it about who, or what, Lapis was. Ergo, he’d need to swap out his tools now, so that he wouldn’t have to do it again until after she left.
Lapis trotted up to the door of his shop, pausing briefly to inspect the three-pointed arch of blue trim he’d finally set up around his front door. He hadn’t had any further griffon guests yet, but he was sure they’d happen eventually.
Shrugging, Lapis pushed the door open - and stopped in his tracks, the sight of what was beyond his door pushing all other thoughts from his mind.
Inside his house, there were dozens - if not hundreds - of pigeons, gathered together like a feathery blanket atop every spare inch of open space that wasn’t the floor, their quiet coos and murmurs overlapping into a hushed hubbub that almost reminded Lapis of a busy library. As he watched, a few of the pigeons took notice of him, letting loose a hurried flurry of calls and trills that drove the other birds in the building to fall silent and look up at him.
“…Nikki?!” Lapis called. “Could you come here a second?!”
The sound of wingbeats started emerging from Lapis’ bedroom, and a moment later, Nikki fluttered out of the hallway to land on the floor in front of Lapis, shooting an unimpressed look at him as if to say ‘Yeah?’
“Alright, I know I said I wouldn’t ask what you’re up to,” Lapis said, stepping inside and shutting the door, “and I’m still not going to. I just need to know- whatever’s going on here, is it a temporary thing, or-?”
Nikki nodded, and Lapis pressed on. “Okay, good. Cool. Apparently, Princess Celestia’s coming to visit Ponyville today, so I’m probably not going to be back in the building for a while. I’m just here to swap out some of my tools, and then I’ll be out of… all your collective feathers,” Lapis said, looking around at the assembled masses of pigeons. “Again, I’m not going to ask what’s going on, but… all your friends here know what a toilet is, right?”
One of the pigeons on Lapis’ table let out an outraged squawk. Nikki shot the offender a flat look, causing them to fall silent mid-screech, then she nodded at Lapis again.
“Okay, good,” Lapis said, rubbing his forehead and levitating his tools out of his saddlebag and into the rack on the closet. “And just to make sure the entire flock knows, the conditions for staying here are: don’t make a mess, don’t set anything on fire, and don’t get the attention of Pinkie and her friends. All of you got it?” he asked, turning to look around at all the other pigeons in the building.
The flock of pigeons responded in the affirmative, either via nodding or by a quick, hushed coo. Lapis levitated a pair of scissors, a tube of glue (which was, as far as he could tell, not made from anything sinister), and a small box of horseshoe-shaped pins out of his closet, quickly tucking them into his saddlebags alongside a small rubber mallet, a dense roll of twine, and a narrow-pointed brush. “Alright, good. I’m heading out now. Nikki, if there’s any trouble, come get me, okay?”
Nikki nodded again, and Lapis headed out the door again. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to watch some of the pigeons taking up posts at each of his windows, looking at the skies above as if keeping watch. The sight of a couple of the birds fluttering out of his chimney almost gave him pause, but he forced himself to turn away and start for Cantering Boulevard. Nope. Not going to ask.
The roof job went exactly as Lapis expected, and the rabbit hutch turned out to have a corner of its chicken-wire mesh pulled out of place. Both were easily attended to, and Lapis was pleased to find himself done before noon. Should give me enough time to get to Town Hall for the concert, he thought, starting in that direction-
“Hey, Lapis! Over here!”
Lapis paused, frowning as he recognized Lyra’s voice, and looked around for her. He spotted her and Bon Bon almost immediately; they were sitting at a table just outside one of the nearby stores, just across the road from him - unfortunately, that store happened to be Sugarcube Corner Bakery.
Bon Bon must’ve guessed what was wrong, because she rolled her eyes and said, “Pinkie’s not over here, Lapis. We were just in there, and we haven’t seen her all day.”
Oh. Lapis heaved a quick sigh of relief, then trotted over to their table. “Hey, guys. What’re you over here for, I thought that the concert was today.”
“Well, it was,” Bon Bon said. “It got cancelled.”
“Two of the big acts’ musical instruments went missing,” Lyra added, her ears tucking back. “Lonely Road lost his harmonica, and Quick Hoof can’t find her banjo. I’ve still got my lyre, though!” she said, grinning and levitating a small, horseshoe-shaped harp up to her side.
“It might’ve saved me some trouble, too,” Bon Bon said, tucking her own ears back and looking to the side. “I must have gotten a bad recipe for pecan bars, because what I pulled out of the oven was just a block of burnt nuts and sugary goop. It took forever to scrape out of the baking pan,” she finished, shivering.
“Anyway, how’s your day been, Lapis?” Lyra asked. “Any interesting repair jobs?”
Lapis grimaced. “Well, ‘interesting’ isn’t the word I’d use, but the Apple family might find themselves out of a house for a while.”
“What?” Bon Bon asked, pulling her head back, Lyra blinking in surprise.
“Not sure how, or why, but at least some of the timbers on the bottom floor of their house is waterlogged,” Lapis said, taking a seat by the table. “I don’t know much about architecture, but from what I do know, that’s bad news for the structural integrity of the building.”
“No kidding,” Bon Bon muttered, tapping her chin with a hoof. “Wow. Well, I’m sure they’ll be able to find somepony to host them somewhere in Ponyville.”
“Twilight’s library has more spare rooms than you’d think,” Lyra said, perking up. “There’s a whole basement and everything! I accidentally wandered down there during Pinkie’s Welcome-To-Ponyville party…” She paused, cocking her head. “Hey, wait a second. Lapis, isn’t Applejack a friend of Pinkie’s? Have you given up on the whole avoiding-her-friends thing?”
Lapis firmly shook his head. “Nope. I got lucky - Applejack was heading into the orchard with an empty cart at about the same time that I was headed over to their house.”
Lyra frowned, a worried crease forming on her brow, and Bon Bon groaned, leaning forward and tucking back her ears. “Lapis, this is ridiculous, and you know it. Could you please introduce yourself to Pinkie already? I promise you, it’ll save you a lot more time and effort than you think.”
“Okay,” Lapis sighed, facehoofing, “I see your point… but, maybe we should take a second to run through the list of stuff that Pinkie’s done. First off, she’s been chasing me on sight ever since I showed up in Ponyville-”
“Only because you somehow escaped from her the first time she spotted you,” Lyra said, raising a hoof.
“-continuing up to, and including, earlier this week, when I only managed to escape from her by way of combining the mask with an invisibility spell. And that nearly gave me a headache for the rest of the night,” Lapis finished. Bon Bon’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but Lapis pushed on. “Bon Bon, you said on the morning of the Summer Sun Celebration that Pinkie’s broken into ponies’ houses and unpacked their stuff so she could host parties there, and I can personally confirm that she’s broken into my house, while I was in it, for no apparent purpose besides nearly eating a whole batch of scones and doing my dishes.”
Lyra’s eyes widened, her ears tucking back as she stared down at the table, and Lapis decided it was time to drive his point home. “So, yeah. I get that the two of you are basically okay with her, and I don’t know how much of her behavior the two of you have seen. But from the parts of it I’ve seen, I feel justified in thinking she might be kinda crazy, and in being more than a little scared of her.”
“Well, she’s definitely a little crazy,” Bon Bon muttered.
“But Pinkie means well, I promise,” Lyra added, though her ears stayed tucked back. “She just wants to make sure you feel welcome, Lapis.”
“She does,” Lapis agreed. “But right now, she’s making me feel like I’m being hunted, and it’s going to take a while for me to get past that. A long while, if she keeps up the way she has been.”
Lyra opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment, a pastel-blue mare with a pink mane walked up to the table, bearing two plates - one with a slice of cake, and one with a slice of pie - on her back. “Order for Misses Heartstrings and Bon?”
“That’s us. Thank you, Mrs. Cake,” Bon Bon said, as the mare set the plates on the table. Mrs. Cake glanced over at Lapis once she was done. “And anything for you, dear?”
“No thanks,” Lapis said, though he was starting to feel a little hungry. “I’m just chatting with some friends.”
“Well, I’ll leave the three of you to it!” Mrs. Cake chimed, turning to walk back into the bakery.
Bon Bon waited until she was gone, then turned back to Lapis, who was just starting to stand up. “Hey, where are you headed?”
Lapis paused. He’d been about to head to his shop again, to try and come up with some means of steering clear of the Princess, but he couldn’t well just say that. “…Well, for some reason, Nikki’s got just about every pigeon in Ponyville holed up in my shop, and I was going to go check up on them.”
Bon Bon frowned. “That’s… odd. I guess I’d better not stop you, but before you go… when’d you learn an invisibility spell? Aren’t those specialist material, or something?”
“Yeah, they’re definitely tougher,” Lapis muttered, wincing as he recalled the headache. “I learned it not long after I picked up the Hornlight spell - the Hornlight made light magic seem easy enough, I thought I’d try another spell from that school. Turns out, not so much. Anyway, yeah, I’d better get out of here,” Lapis said, turning to leave. “There’s probably enough loose pigeon feathers on my floor to stuff a pillow with, and I’d rather sweep it up before it gets into the nooks and crannies.”
Bon Bon snorted. “That’d be a small pillow. …Hey, be careful on your way back, yeah?”
Lapis cocked an eyebrow. “Careful? How come?”
“I’ve been seeing animals acting skittish all day,” Bon Bon said. “…It’s just a hunch, but I get the feeling something might be about to happen. Besides the Princess showing up, I mean.”
At once, Lapis remembered the strange behavior of the critters he’d seen on Sweet Apple Acres, and a familiar tingle began to build in his gut. “…Yeah, me too. Thanks, Bon Bon. If anything comes up, I’ll try to send Nikki your way.”
“I’ll look out for her,” Bon Bon called, as Lapis started back for his workshop at a quick trot.
Is it just me, Lapis thought as he headed back to his house, or does Bon Bon have a weirdly specific patchwork of knowledge?
The animals thing, he could explain on his own - all it took was growing up somewhere with woods nearby to figure out that the wildlife was better at predicting natural trouble - or natural disasters - than people were. Calling invisibility spells “specialist material” was a little strange, though: knowing in the first place that invisibility spells were difficult didn’t too improbable to Lapis, though he wasn’t familiar with how much magical knowledge most non-unicorns possessed.
But describing them as “specialist material” is kind of a… well, specialized use of language, Lapis realized, his brow furrowing as he turned the corner onto his shop’s street. And… when I was talking to her about my overdue fines at the library, didn’t she say something about the “base fine for petty theft?”
“Maybe she was a cop, or something?” Lapis muttered, glancing down at the ground - then he paused. …Why does the ground have polka dots?
Lapis looked up, and realized that the polka dots were shadows - the shadows of dozens, maybe hundreds of small, spherical objects gently floating down from the sky. Lapis watched as one of them, a fuzzy, pale yellow ball, drifted right in front of his face - then it stopped there as the narrow, translucent wings on its sides began to buzz.
“What?” Lapis muttered. The fuzzy ball shifted, opening a large, glittering pair of compound eyes and a small, smiling mouth, which opened to release a faint, buzzing chirrup.
Lapis would’ve thought it was cute, but as he looked around at the cloud of creatures raining down on Ponyville from above, all the could focus on was that familiar tingle of dread in his gut. “When did I see you before…”
Then, off to one side, one of the bugs stretched its mouth impossibly wide, its gaping maw lunging forward to engulf the raised hoof of a small foal. For a second, Lapis’ heart stopped - then the bug popped off, revealing that the foal’s hoof was soaked with drool but otherwise unharmed, and the candy-apple that they’d been holding had been stripped down to a popsicle stick and a pile of seeds.
“Oh, shit,” Lapis muttered, a jolt of realization shooting through him. In the next second he was galloping back to his shop at full speed, screams rising around him to punctuate an growing buzz like an industrial shredder, that seemed to come from every direction. He burst through the door to his shop just as a pair of pigeons swooped down out of his fireplace, releasing frantic squawks.
Oh, well this explains the pigeons, a small, detached mind of Lapis’ brain commented. Somehow, they knew this was coming. They’re taking shelter. They never warned me, because I didn’t ask. Maybe I should ask about stuff more often.
“Hey, guys, I think I figured out why you’re in here,” Lapis shouted, slamming the door behind him and slinging his saddlebags onto their hook, levitating his broom out of the closet and staring around at the crowd of pigeons that surrounded him. “I’m pretty sure they can’t open doors, so… none of you open the door, I guess?”
Nikki cooed as she flew down onto Lapis’ head, and wasted no time glaring down at him over his horn. “Right,” Lapis muttered. “You can’t open doors, either. Okay, uh, however you all got in here, I need you to guard those spots, and get me if they start coming in that way so I can do something about it. Ready?”
The flock of pigeons exchanged doubtful glances. Then, they and Lapis both turned to look as a series of pinkish-purple waves of light started washing through the wall, Lapis’ horn tingling as it passed through him. He glanced outside, and saw that all the bug-things had stopped midair, looking almost confused as pulse after pulse of magic flowed over their bodies.
Then the pulses stopped. One of the bugs turned away from a pony’s sandwich and flew over to Lapis’ door, and for a brief, beautiful second, Lapis thought the crisis was averted.
Then the bug flew downward, and in a single bite that scraped like nails on a chalkboard, it ate his metal doorknob.
“…O-kay then,” Lapis breathed. “New plan, anyone?”
A second later, the door began to swing open, and suddenly all was chaos. Lapis slammed himself against the door, holding it shut even as a half-dozen panicked coos began to sound across the room. Lapis gritted his teeth, looking out through the giant window of his storefront, and he felt his heart drop as he saw the bugs biting chunks out of the corner of his house-
“Stay inside!” he yelled, and before he knew when or how he’d done it, he was outside, using his telekinesis to hold the door shut even as he started whacking the bugs off the corners of his house with the broom. It was a small relief they didn’t seem to be touching his roof, or Lapis himself - still, at the speed they were gnawing, he was going to end up with some unwanted doorways. Lapis started making frantic circles of the house, spinning the broom in circles like a weed-whacker to smack the bugs off his walls, but they just kept coming-
Nikki was there as he rounded a corner, swooping toward one of the offending things and making a sharp right turn just in time to deliver a resounding smack with the flat of her wing. The bug got knocked fifteen feet clear in the opposite direction of Lapis’ house, Lapis sending four more in its direction as Nikki wheeled around to make another pass. He blinked, shocked, as a fifth bug was lauched away, and then a sixth. Two more pigeons followed behind Nikki, then four, then a dozen-
And all at once, his house was engulfed by a swooping, squawking whirlwind of pigeons and bugs, the papery buzzing of the insects’ wings like a bass line under the irregular staccato of the birds’ broad strikes. The bugs that got slapped didn’t come back, but there were just more and more taking their place, several of the pigeons settling to the ground and opening their beaks to pant for breath even as the bugs grew more numerous, the small cloud that split off to pursue a screaming blue blur doing nothing to diminish their numbers. Lapis set his jaw, raising the broom again even as he felt himself starting to grow tired, and-
Suddenly, the cacophony gained a melody. Lapis paused, cocking his head, and realized that somewhere, someone was playing music. It sounded like a whole marching band, complete with tuba and cymbals, but that was ridiculous, surely nobody-
The bugs began bobbing up and down in the air, and after a few seconds’ consternation, Lapis was more bewildered yet by the realization that they were dancing. Slowly, still bobbing to the beat, the bugs touched down on the ground and started hopping down the street, in the direction of the song. Lapis looked along their path just in time to see Pinkie Pie, of all ponies, slowly cross the street about a hundred yards down the road, wearing half an orchestra’s worth of instruments on her body, and a look on her face that he’d never seen before: one that said she was done with this mess.
And for some reason, somehow, the bugs began to hop along behind her single file, following Pinkie as she slowly, deliberately bounced across the street. She didn’t even bother to glance in Lapis’ direction, only her song lingering behind as she rounded a corner and disappeared from view.
Lapis slowly, carefully looked around, panting with exertion as he swept the street for any sign of the bugs. And, amazingly, there was none - it seemed they’d all vanished, or else followed Pinkie to… wherever she was going. All Lapis knew was that she was going away, and that was good enough for him.
The street was trashed, though. Lapis grimaced as he took in the sight of the houses surrounding his - there were trails eaten through the thatch of ponies’ roofs, rafters jutting from beneath the torn sheets of straw. Everywhere the bugs had found corners, they’d eaten them - most of the stairs that he could see had been smoothed out into ramps, and small, cookie-cutter holes were visible all over every piece of trim and siding he could see. And the gardens… well, they might still make good compost, but that was about it.
With some trepidation, Lapis turned to look at his own house - and found it to be in shockingly good condition. He still had some chunks missing from his walls, but his house didn’t look nearly as Swiss-cheesed as the rest of the buildings around him, the worst of the damage seeming to be a few bites that had been taken out of the trim around his door.
Slowly, beginning to breathe more deeply, Lapis looked down and saw the crowd of pigeons sitting around the edges of his house. Most of them had risen to their feet, but a few were still spread-eagled on the ground, their tiny chests shivering as they tried to catch their breath. Nikki was among those who’d gotten their strength back, and after briefly ruffling her wings, she flew up onto his back, a triumphant smirk on her face as she took in the face of Lapis’ house.
“…I know I told you to stay inside, but… thanks,” Lapis said. “All of you,” he added, looking down at the rest of the pigeons, who called out a few exhausted trills in response. “Alright, good work, everybody take five.”
Lapis was only barely surprised to learn that the pigeons seemed to know what this meant, most of them taking for the skies at once, those that remained only moving to hop or scoot out of Lapis’ way, Nikki remaining on Lapis’ back as he slowly, gingerly re-entered his house. The inner half of Lapis’ doorknob fell off the door as he opened it, rolling loudly across the wooden floorboards before stopping against the far wall with a thunk. Miraculously, nothing else seemed damaged - there was a light dusting of pigeon feathers all over the floor, and something in a corner of the room that might’ve been a dropping, but nothing had chunks bitten out of it… except the firewood inside Lapis’ closed wood-stove.
I don’t remember closing that, Lapis thought, ducking down to look through the glass window of the wood-stove. Did the pigeons do it?
“Gotta say, Nikki, you pigeons know how to defend a house,” Lapis muttered, Nikki quietly shuffling on his back. They must’ve, yeah - the chimney, that must be how all the pigeons got inside! Yeah, and then they shut the door behind them when the bugs showed up-
Lapis felt his blood run cold. “There are two rooms that connect to that chimney,” he muttered.
He turned around, marching to the closet, levitating the broom up to his side as he pulled open the closet door and stepped inside. Then, he shut the door behind him as he descended the basement stairs, entering the lantern-lit room to see…
Chaos.
Everything that had been on a hook, wasn’t. The bugs had eaten half of the set of hammers - literally, they had taken each hammer and eaten it in half - and gnawed the hooks off the walls. Paper and metal scraps were strewn about the room, tools haphazardly scattered across what had once been tidy workspaces, the floorboards looking more worm-eaten than the timbers of the Apple family’s house had.
“You’re kidding me,” Lapis muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he looked around the room. “You’ve gotta be joking.” He advanced toward the workbench, his heart dropping as he realized all three of the books on his workbench were open.
Lapis frantically grabbed the first of the books - the worn notebook with blank pages that he’d discovered on the bench when he moved in - and was only slightly relieved to see that all the eaten pages had been blank to begin with. Trixie’s copy of Magic 4 Dummies, however, wasn’t so lucky - there were multiple chunks bitten out of the edges, as if the bugs had been trying to nibble the crust off a sandwich. They’d seemed to have a taste for the binding - most of it was gone, and loose pages kept trying to fall out of the book as Lapis inspected it.
Lapis took a moment to look back at Nikki. She seemed as aghast as he was, staring around the destroyed room with wide eyes. She looked back over at him, then released a sorrowful coo.
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Lapis said, forcing himself to grin back at her. “I wouldn’t have remembered it either.”
Then, slowly, he took a deep breath and picked up the guide to artifice, fearing the worst… and found that, somehow, it looked undamaged. Whatever it was bound in, the bugs didn’t seem to have liked the taste - there were a few rings of tiny, serrated tooth-marks, but none had bitten deeper than a scratch or two. Lapis opened the book-
For a second or two, he couldn’t move. “Nikki?” Lapis asked.
Nikki hopped up onto Lapis’ shoulder, but remained silent. “I think… they ate the words.”
The pages were undamaged, without so much as a scratch on them. But the paragraphs of text looked as if they had chunks bitten out of them, as if the bugs had scraped the ink off the paper with their teeth. Slowly, carefully, Lapis began to flip through the book, and found that every single page of text had been eaten at least in part.
“They did,” Lapis muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching up, his throat clenching shut against the hysterical laugh rising in his chest. “They ate them. They couldn’t eat the book, so they ate the words.”
There were pages of information about artifice in that book, Lapis thought, and the laugh died in his chest, smothered out by something that pulsed with heat. Pages. Pages of knowledge, instructions, information about how to keep trying, to make magic work in a way that didn’t leave my head pounding, to try and-
Something metal clanged to the floor behind Lapis, and he gasped- then found he couldn’t breathe. He fell, and he never hit the ground, rising with the heat in his chest, hot enough to char, his vision going white as it pounded past his eyes and reached his horn-
His head was splitting open. His magic ripped itself free of his body, bursting away from his horn in a wave of candelight, every loose object shuddering and churning around him like sand on a vibrating dish. Another pulse washed from his horn, and then another, the edges of Lapis’ vision darkening as he continued to choke, his own magic tearing his strength from his body as it ripped the light of the world away from his eyes.
“You good, Lyra?” Bon Bon asked, panting for breath as she slung the fluffy pink towel back over her back.
“Uh, I think so,” Lyra replied. “…They ate a chunk out of my tail, though?”
Bon Bon looked back at Lyra, saw the crescent-shaped bite taken out of her tail hairs, and sighed. “Yes, you’re good.”
“Great!” Lyra replied, setting down the plate she’d been using to swat away bugs. Bon Bon had been surprised - Lyra was a pretty good hoof, or horn, with that plate. Wonder how well she could do with a shield?
Lyra glanced down to her side and gasped, her ears perking up as a grin lit her face. “Hey, look!” Her horn lit up orange, and a second or two later, her lyre floated up in front of her chest, Lyra beaming at Bon Bon. “At least the bugs didn’t get this, right?”
I hope I never find out, Bon Bon thought, a smile growing on her face. “Yeah. At least that’s true.”
“What were those, anyway?” Lyra asked, glancing around at their surroundings. “They were kinda cute, but they did a real number on Ponyville.”
“I… don’t have a clue,” Bon Bon found herself admitting. I’ll have to submit a report… Sweet Celestia, I’m never going to hear the end of this one. “But whatever Pinkie did to stop them, it worked. Guess we’ll have to ask her, next time she drops by for a sweet exchange.”
“Ooh!” Lyra said, her eyes widening. “Wonder what we could swap with her for those meringue cookies!”
Bon Bon opened her mouth to reply - and a wave of magic burst from the middle of the village. Lyra turned to look, her mouth widening in shock, as Bon Bon lunged at her, shoving a table to the side as she knocked Lyra to the ground, hoping it would shield her and Lyra from the wave.
It didn’t. The wave passed right through the table, and Bon Bon clamped her hooves to her cheeks as something in her mouth jerked, a spike of pain penetrating past her gum and into her jaw. What the hay?!
Another pulse washed over Bon Bon, her hair standing on end. Then another, and another… and no more.
“Ow,” Lyra wheezed. “Bon Bon… can’t breathe…”
“Lyra?!” Bon Bon shouted, bolting to her hooves - and Lyra sat up immediately, sucking in a gasp. “Whoo! That was exciting - maybe save the tackle-hugs for pillow fights, though?”
Bon Bon huffed, facehoofing as her jaw continued to throb, her pulse pounding in her ears. “Lyra, I swear to Celestia… Don’t scare me like that!”
“Hey, you’re the pony who landed on my stomach,” Lyra replied, grinning. “…What was that, anyway?”
Bon Bon felt around the inside of her mouth, and her confusion only grew. “Whatever it was, I think it straightened out my crooked tooth.”
“Um…” Lyra said, not meeting Bon Bon’s eyes as she clambered to her hooves. “It might not just be your tooth.”
“What?” Bon Bon asked, then she caught sight of her reflection in a window, and got to watch the glare melt off her face. “…My mane, too?”
“Well, yeah, that, too.” Lyra said. “And maybe some other stuff.”
Bon Bon turned to look, and felt her eyes widen as she stared down the street.
The bugs hadn’t left behind much debris- most of what they’d destroyed, they’d eaten shortly afterward, with the exception of some food and what had been a scattered patch of acorns.
Except, now… they weren’t scattered at all. Nothing was. All the litter on the streets had been gathered into perfectly straight lines, some criss-crossing like a chessboard while others stretched long and unbroken down the road. On top of that, there was new litter on the streets: piles of pointed, vivid green strips…
“Grass clippings?” Lyra said, cocking her head. “Man, somepony picked a weird time to test a lawn-mowing spell.”
“What do you mean, lawn-mowing…” Bon Bon began, but as she looked, she saw what Lyra meant. Not only had all the litter been organized, but all the lawns had been mowed perfectly level with each other, as if somepony with too much time on their hooves had taken a ruler and a pair of scissors to every single blade. The more Bon Bon looked, the more bizarre order she saw - fences were washed clean, other ponies stepping out of their homes looked fresh out of some spa treatment, and even the end of a particularly low-hanging cloud had been given perfectly square corners. The effects didn’t extend all the way down the street - it looked like they’d only affected a circular cut of Ponyville, one that Bon Bon and Lyra had only barely been inside.
A high, frantic trill sounded from above, Bon Bon’s ears pricking up in response. A pigeon was flying toward her from the center of the circle, about as fast as she’d ever seen a pigeon fly…
“Wait,” Lyra asked, her eyes widening. “Is that… Nikki?”
“Lapis,” Bon Bon muttered.
They arrived at Lapis’ workshop soon afterward, Bon Bon barely pausing to register the missing doorknob before she spun and kicked the door open.
“Lapis!” Lyra shouted. “Hey! You okay? Nikki came and got us, where are you?”
Bon Bon didn’t bother with words, brushing past Lyra and heading down the hallway that led to Lapis’ bedroom - but Nikki, the pigeon, got in her way, touching down on the hallway and shaking her head no.
“We don’t have time for this, Nikki,” Bon Bon said. “Where is he?”
Nikki rolled her eyes, and Bon Bon had to resist the urge to whack the pigeon with her tail as she flew back into the front of Lapis’ house - then, she flew to the door behind the counter, and tugged at the handle.
“In here?” Lyra asked, opening the door to reveal a supply closet. Nikki flew inside at once, out of Bon Bon’s sight, and Lyra cocked her head as the sound of Nikki’s wings flapping didn’t stop. “…Nikki, what do you need an axe for?”
Frowning, Bon Bon trotted into the closet, and found Nikki frantically tugging at a fire-pony’s axe hung on a tool rack - the axe, however, was refusing to budge. Bon Bon huffed, then raised a hoof to lift the axe -
And it stayed put. Bon Bon frowned, then checked the back of the axe, and found it was affixed to a cylinder on the tool rack. “What in Celestia’s name…?”
The sound of wings flapping grabbed Bon Bon’s attention, and she looked back to see Nikki tugging at the doorknob of the closet door, trying to pull it shut. Lyra cocked her head, confused - then, frowning, she shut the door, her horn bursting into orange light as the door blocked all light from the window.
Nikki flew back to the axe again and tried to flap her wings, but could only manage a few feeble flutters. Bon Bon grimaced, gingerly scooping up the bird with a hoof and dumping her on Lyra’s back, then reached out and tried to lift the axe again. This time, it moved - the cylinder turned, and then the wall that the tool-rack was affixed to swung outward like a door, revealing a narrow, steep staircase.
“Huh,” Lyra breathed, from just behind Bon Bon. “Secret basement. Neat.”
“Quiet,” Bon Bon muttered. Something about this place was giving her a bad feeling, and it wasn’t just how silent the building was.
Slowly, cautiously, she descended the basement stairs, entering a small, open room that looked at first glance like a hurricane had gone through a smith-pony’s workshop. There were hammers and tongs scattered everywhere, scraps of paper and metal tracing smoothly-curving lines from the walls of the room to the middle. And in the center of it all was Lapis Print, lying unmoving on his side. His eyes and mouth were shut, and his mane and tail were spread haphazardly across the floor - he didn’t lie down, he collapsed.
“Lapis!” Lyra said, and she stepped past Bon Bon to check on him. “Hey, wakey-wakey! Naptime’s over, c’mon, up and at ‘em!”
Bon Bon saw that he was breathing, and heaved a quick sigh of relief. “He’s unconscious, Lyra, not just asleep.”
“Unconscious?” Lyra asked, turning to stare briefly at Bon Bon. “But why would he…” She looked down, and seemed to notice the spirals of scrap for the first time. “Oh. Whoa. So, I might’ve figured out why he’s unconscious.”
“Not the time for jokes, Lyra,” Bon Bon muttered, stepping forward and slinging the other unicorn across her back. Oof. He’s heavier than he looks. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital, stat.”
“I’m not joking,” Lyra said, her ears half-flicking back in annoyance. “…But yeah, it can wait. Stay put, I’ll get the door.”
It was almost as hard as lugging a piano upstairs. Lapis was a lot lighter than a piano, but he was also a lot less rigid - which was a good thing, but still inconvenient. Then there was the issue of getting him out of the closet. Bon Bon did her best not to let Lapis knock his head into anything, but there was a close call involving a pry-bar.
Still, eventually, Bon Bon managed to step into the main shop, and hurried out the door and into the main street-
“Lyra, Bon Bon? -Oh, goodness! Is that Lapis?”
“Yeah,” Bon Bon replied, glancing over to see who’d spoken - to her surprise, it was Mayor Mare, who was now looking between Lapis and the eerily-neat streets around his house. “-I mean, ma’am yes ma’am. He’s alive, but unconscious.”
“Oh dear,” Mayor Mare said, trotting over. “Oh, dear oh dear. That’s the third repair-pony we’ve lost in three years, at this rate the whole town will be-!”
“He’s fine, ma’am,” Bon Bon said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for your concern. But we still need to get him to a hospital.”
“A hospital?” Mayor Mare asked, suddenly snapped out of her thoughts. “…Wait, of course! What’s the matter with him?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a doctor-pony… but my best guess is some kind of magical exhaustion,” Bon Bon said, looking again at their tidied surroundings. “I get the feeling Lapis here might be responsible for that last blast of magic.”
“Not just any magical exhaustion,” Lyra said, grimacing. “I… might be wrong, but something about all this feels like a Harmonic Cascade.”
“A what?” Bon Bon and the mayor asked simultaneously.
Lyra groaned. “Look, it’s a long explanation, and I only really remember half of it. Bon Bon, I’ll tell you on the way there, but Mayor Mare, you’ll have to ask somepony who knows their magic better than I do.”
“Oh. Yes, I suppose so,” Mayor Mare replied. “I’m sure Twilight will know the answer.”
“Uh, yeah,” Lyra said, hesitating. “Twilight.”
Bon Bon cocked an eyebrow at her friend. Don’t do it, Lyra. Be strong, she thought.
“So, um, I’ve got a favor to ask,” Lyra said, awkwardly pawing at the ground with a hoof. “And it’s kind of a weird one. Could I bother you to maybe, possibly, not tell Twilight about who Lapis is?”
Darn it, Lyra. We don’t have time for this, hurry up!
Mayor Mare blinked, cocking her head. “What? Whatever for?”
“So, the thing is,” Lyra said, tucking her ears back, “he’s not exactly a party pony, and him and Twilight and Pinkie have kind of gotten off on the wrong hoof anyway. And for some reason, he’s decided that the best thing to do is to just… avoid them. Completely. And look, I get it’s weird, but he’s made it really clear that this is how he wants to go about things, and I just…” She sighed. “I don’t know, I feel like letting them figure out who did this while he’s unconscious would be… letting him down, I guess? Does that make any sense?”
“Lyra, come on!” Bon Bon huffed. “Some injuries have a time limit, you know!”
“…I suppose I understand,” Mayor Mare said. “It’s just…”
“It’s a lot, yeah,” Lyra agreed. “I’d take it up with him after he wakes up, maybe? But for now, could you please…?”
From atop Lyra’s back, Nikki shot Mayor Mare what looked like a surprisingly good pair of puppy-dog eyes. Mayor Mare resisted for a second, then sighed, her ears flopping back. “…Oh, alright.”
Lyra smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Mayor!” She turned, then hurried back down the road next to Bon Bon. “Okay, so, about what happened to Lapis. I took this class forever ago, and I’ve forgotten about half of it, but basically…”
Bon Bon listened, but only halfway. Between the discovery of Lapis' secret basement, and his apparent ability to cast invisibility spells, she was beginning to come up with some questions of her own for when Lapis woke up.
“…Ow,” he muttered. “Oh, everything hurts.”
Well, mostly my head, but everything else too, yeah.
Grimacing, he reached for the side of his bed, trying to grasp for a glass of water, a bottle of Advil, anything, but for some reason he couldn’t move his fingers. He frowned, then raised his hand up to his face and cracked his eyes open.
He regretted his decision almost at once. The light was blindingly bright, piercing his retinas with all the coarse precision of a rusty needle. He groaned, squinting through the pain until his vision cleared, and then inspected his hand -
Where his hand should’ve been, there was a cream-colored, cork-shaped hoof. And for a second, he felt like screaming.
Then something in his head clicked, and his memories came flooding back like a weight, his pulse surging as his adrenaline kicked in a few seconds too late. Oh, yeah. That happened. Right.
Okay, before anything else happens, back in character, quick.
My name is Lapis Print. I was raised by griffons, and I work as a repair-pony in Ponyville. I am, and always have been, a unicorn from Equestria. I am not, and never have been, an alien monkey from another dimension.
Act natural. And… go.
Slowly, Lapis opened his eyes the rest of the way, taking in his surroundings with a wary eye. He was in a hospital, lying on his back on a narrow mattress beneath a filmy, pure-white sheet. It felt like he was wearing a hospital gown, too, and there was something rhythmically beeping off to the side of his head.
A set of slow, heavy hoofsteps approached the door, and Lapis turned his head to look, expecting some pony wearing a nurse’s uniform (for absolutely no good reason, besides thematic consistency.) He was surprised to instead see a black-and-white-striped hoof bearing a set of golden bracelets cross the threshold, followed shortly afterward by the similarly-patterned, mohawked head of a zebra. She blinked at him with familiar aquamarine eyes, then smiled.
“Well, if it isn’t my barrel-masked friend,” she said. “How are you, now that your rest is at an end?”
…Zecora? Lapis thought. I think that’s her name. “Headache,” he said. “But still alive and kicking. How come you’re here?”
Zecora smiled again. “Ponyville’s doctors and I both cure many things. I am here in their stead thanks to Lyra Heartstrings.” Her face grew grim. “Your condition, I fear, gave her quite a fright. She seemed quite sure help had to be me, or Twilight.”
…And that's one more pony for the Hide-Me Conspiracy. Lapis grimaced, then pushed himself a little further upright. “Right. Uh, thanks. Head’s still a little foggy. You know what happened to me?”
Zecora nodded. “Worry you had denied, and buried turmoil, and deep in your heart it began to boil. Far too much strain, you had put on yourself. When for magic you reached, empty you found your shelf. In fear and in panic, you called upon more, and tapped into a deeper, wilder store. But too much, you have found, such is to control - and so to the floor, you unconscious lolled.”
“Oh.” Lapis sighed. “Great. How long was I out for?”
“As much as you need, you will rest ‘til you get,” Zecora said, fixing him with a gentle, but firm stare. “The length of your sleep was almost a week yet.”
“A week?!” Lapis yelped, sitting bolt upright. Holy shit. Holy shit, the entire town was destroyed, and I’ve been unconscious for a week? Dear God, the backlog on my board must be insane!
“Fully restored, you have yet to be,” Zecora admonished, and Lapis snapped out of his panic just in time for the zebra to start staring him back down onto his blankets. “You will not work ‘til you’ve finished your recovery.”
“…I appreciate your concern,” Lapis began.
Zecora cut him off with a wave of her hoof, lifting a teapot into view from the end of his bed. “No ‘buts’ there will be, until restored you are true.” She poured out two cups of tea, taking one in a hoof and pushing the other to Lapis’ side. “Let us drink, and pass time. Tell me, Lapis, who are you?”
Lapis hesitated a moment, then reached out with his magic. He winced as his horn twinged - an awful kind of piercing pain, like poking a cavity in a tooth - but nonetheless managed to lift the teacup to his lips.
Zecora’s question hadn’t really been too deep, but for some reason, Lapis found himself giving it more thought than he’d expected. He thought about the pyramid of mana-siphons he’s set up that morning - or, well, a week ago, now. He remembered how he’d been nearly caught by Pinkie and Twilight before, and had only escaped them thanks to a combination of his own mask and the book that the Mayor had let him have from Trixie’s wagon, and how before that he’d forgotten his mask, and only escaped Pinkie thanks to Bon Bon’s choice of brunch. He thought about fighting off the bug-things, and how he'd been fighting a losing battle until Nikki and the other pigeons had pitched in.
Lyra and Bon Bon must’ve found me in the basement, Lapis realized…
…and I’d probably be dead if they hadn’t.
He took a careful sip of the tea, and found it was delicious - some kind of berry, with a vanilla-like undertone that reminded him of the way new paper smelled.
“I guess,” he said, “I’m somepony who’s been trying too much to rely on themselves.”
Zecora smiled.