//------------------------------// // Chapter 48 // Story: Borrowed Time // by Gambit Prawn //------------------------------// My eyes went wide at the huge gray stallion in front of me. His fur seemed rougher than most, and somehow he had a scar right below his left eye. That’s… not Fluttershy. “Hello! My name’s Ruby Haggard, and welcome to Animal Care 101. Err… that means a crash course, you know?” Rainbow Dash has already given me a crash course, thank you very much. “So what’ll you be teaching us?” Alibi asked. Somehow this got him several looks from our cohorts. If I had to guess, the rest of them were intimidated by the earth pony. “Great question,” Ruby said, clearly indifferent. “I’m sure you know what the class is basically about. y’all had your catalogs and all.” Alibi looked down briefly, somewhat puzzled. “But… I didn’t even choose…” “You’ll figure it out,” the stallion said. “I can tell you!” Applebloom chimed in. “Basically, you get to interact with animals, and uhh… care for them?” “Correct,” our instructor says, with impressive patience. “Let’s get into it. I will split you into teams with these.” He turned to reveal a bunch of pencils. “Drawing straws?” Thaumaturgical asked. “I’m good at this.” How. How are you good at that? How can anypony be good at that? Fortunately, I was willing to forgive that outburst of silly from my friend.   Silence settled and with a wave of Ruby’s hoof, we queued into one of those pony lines that were so ubiquitous. I let my mind wander, as I ended up in the middle of the line. When I had zoned back in, Alibi drew a green pencil in front of me. I almost entertained the thought that it was the color to avoid, but that wouldn’t make me any better than Thaumaturgical. I stepped tentatively towards the saddlebag. On a whim I put my left forehoof to my head. “With my amazing psychic powers, I foresee a green pencil…” I said flippantly, hoping against hope. I still frowned when that was exactly what I got. Of course.  “Wow! You can predict the future River!?” Sweetie Belle inquired, beaming. “Maybe you can get your cutie mark.” When I felt the bearing of eyes on me, I blurted out, “And it’s not my alicorn aspect either!” “Woah! Now she read my mind!” said a Canterlot Second colt. I facehooved in frustration. I groped in the dark for something to diffuse the attention, but I came up with nothing. Eventually the drawing of straws resumed. In addition to Alibi, I was grouped in with Perfect Double—not exactly a pony that could make for a good buffer between the changeling and me. “Ahem.” Our instructor said, quite unnaturally. “I have reached out to the residents of this forest, seeking anypony needing help.” I looked around to corroborate my incredulity. The faces around me suggested I might be the odd one out. He whistled, and animals—birds, a beaver, squirrels, some rabbits, even a fox—made a well-choreographed entrance. “You will split up and help these animals with their problems.” I can barely do ponies, but…. animals? “Mr. Haggard?” New Moon asked. “There’s only one of you and… however many groups. Are you really going to leave us on our own?” “Don’t be absurd,” the stallion said, with a slightly softened expression when he realized his words were too forceful. “These animals can be trusted.” That raises even more questions! I thought. What can they do to protect us? Without further ado, Alibi, Perfect Double and I followed a rabbit to her abode. While traveling I thought over what I’d gathered about animals in this world. It was a strange mish mash of what my old world logic told me to expect and the whimsy of Equestria. Cows, pigs and sheep were probably the strangest cases. They were practically as intelligent as ponies, but for the most part, they preferred to keep it simple. Farmponies will feed them for milk and wool, and in exchange they're supported in their humble existence. Fortunately, I didn’t think long enough to notice the obvious problem  with the pigs.   After five minutes of walking, I was struggling to keep my bearings. “Are you sure we can find our way back?” Perfect Double asked, gesturing to us. “I’m not asking for me—I mean, I’m pretty good at studying my environment, but if we get separated, I’d be worried for them.” I sighed. Her whole “secret agent” play was so tiring. And in view of the real spy walking next to us, even her imaginings were unimpressive. “We’ll be there soon,” said our guide. I nodded. “So, you enjoying camp?” she asked. “I’m doing okay,” Perfect Double responded. “And you’re an alicorn,” our guide said, pointing out the obvious. “Astute observation—” My jaw dropped as I locked eyes with the rabbit. “You—you… rabbit—talking.” I was on the verge of fainting for the second time in my short stint in Equestria. “River, what’s wrong?” asked Double. I observed her sincerity with a panicked sense of disbelief. Her endorsement of the reality unfolding before me frayed my nerves and threatened my sanity. The rabbit was smiling. “How are you talking?” I asked the rabbit. She scratched a spot on her back with her back leg. “We always talk. Ponies don’t always listen, though.” For a crisp moment I dissociated and just appreciated the cool shade the surrounding forest provided us. The moisture in the air was somehow invigorating on its own, which only heightened my state of mild shock. “Oh, I get it. If my deductions are correct, it has to do with your ascension.” Double explained. I briefly stared at her in disbelief for her little act. “My intel suggests that earth ponies are best at communicating with animals. As a unicorn, I can understand the broad idea of what they’re saying, but the details elude me. For Alibi here, for animals that can’t fly, he’s out of his element.” The changeling scratched his head nervously. “Ah, yes, me being a pegasus is exactly the reason why I can’t understand the nice rabbit.” My shock at this development suddenly flared up again. “You really can understand me?” I asked the rabbit. “You betcha, Hon,” she responded. “Me being able to talk to ponies is the bigger achievement—what with all your words.” After a moment of concentration, I was able to spot the seams in our communication. Once I did, it was clear she wasn’t speaking my language—my second language, anyway. That did little to dispel my amazement at the fact that I could get her message despite being unable to break down the actual words used. At least it’s not entirely a special alicorn thing—at least not directly… The woods thinned noticeably, and I felt the sun sneak through the tree cover. It took my eyes a moment to readjust, but when they did, in front of us lay a huge hill carpeted in green. I looked for a leaf hut in a desperate attempt to affirm my expectations. However, the welcome mat in front of the normal-sized door in the side of the hill left no doubt: I was in for another round of Equestrian surprises. “Well, don’t stand there staring,” said the rabbit. “Come on in!” The three of us stood there dumbly. After a weird look from Mrs. Rabbit, we nodded, strangely in sync. I breathed in. Okay, this is a lot to take in, but I’m over it. I’m not sure what we can help them with that they couldn’t do themselves, but… “WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS!?” I wailed. A wooden floor. Furniture. A kitchen.  A designated sleeping area with three four-level bunk beds.   But what really got me was the incredible interior decoration—everything from the fixtures to the flooring matched—as if they were carved out of the same enormous, ancient tree. Far from a hutch, this was a cozy little hideaway in a hollowed-out hill. Suddenly I became cognizant of a chorus of crying. “Don’t just come into my home shouting!” the she-rabbit admonished me. “And they say animals are the ones with poor manners—sheesh.” My colleagues looked at me weird. Come on. You’re plenty weird yourselves. I stared blankly at the ceiling, which refreshingly actually looked like the inside of a hill. Only after a few protracted moments did it occur to me the rabbit was waiting for a response. “S—sorry… it’s just that animals don’t talk often where I’m from.” I regretted saying that the minute it left my lips.   “I was exaggerating before, but you really do have no manners.” She squinted and moved a little closer. “But, you’re how old now? Five?” Alibi made a show of clearing his throat. “Well, it’s not polite to ask a lady her age.” Hey, he was actually useful for once. “My intel suggests that there is an individual variation in how animals view civilization. Some think it’s best left to other creatures and look down on homesteads and such, while others emulate, or even envy 'bigger' creatures,” explained Double “Well, it sounds like your ‘schools’ are good for somethin’ after all. If there were more of us around here, I’d think about startin’ one.” I think I’m hearing both attitudes at once?  I shook my head. Taking a moment to admire the little arrangements that made the rabbits’ house appear to be somewhat spacious, I contented myself with the thought that I got bailed out of another potentially embarrassing show of ignorance—around ponies whose opinions I cared about at least. Perfect double tiptoed a few steps and did a little skip, apparently trying to add another layer to her ‘mysterious’ persona. “What is our mission, bounding one?” Are there colts that would like that? I cringed. No, no! Bad filly thought, begone! “Just a few things. Nothin’ real excitin’.” “Now don’t set our expectations too low.” Still, if I had to cuddle or groom a bunny or two and be out of here, I thought I could make out okay. Somehow, a few short minutes later, Double found herself enthusiastically dusting the walls and flooring, and Alibi and I were combing through a scattered pile of wooden pieces. “Let’s see: attach joint 2B to rod 13. Where’s rod 13?” Alibi asked. “Is this it?” I responded, showing him a vase-shaped object peg.” Alibi took a moment to consider my suggestion, but a second later he gave a characteristic smirk. “No, clearly, that’s for decoration at the end.” Quit playing: you didn’t know either. I sighed.  “How did we get stuck doing this?” I whispered. Our host still heard. “It’s all ‘cause you’re industrious young foals who love to help a mama in need.” I gave her a pained look, miffed at the injustice of her eavesdropping. “Nothin’ gets by ears this big!” She flexed them for emphasis. After twenty minutes of collaboration, including a lot of help from the changeling’s guardian spirit, we had put together a three level shelf that looked more like a step ladder than anything else. I wasn’t one to complain, so I admired our handiwork with measured pride. “Good job with the dusting, and that shelf’s looking good!” said the mother rabbit. “It’s done,” I said, trying to shield a tinge of annoyance at the whole arrangement. “Me too!” said Double. “Great! You’ll be making cookies next,” the rabbit said with zero hesitation. “Cookies?” I repeated. “Yeah, you ponies aren’t the only ones that need sugar. I’ve got all my babies to feed.” I put a hoof to my chin; then I set it down. “Why don’t you just—you know, that’s fine I guess.” Double stepped forward. “My experience makes this a mission I am well-prepared for. You can entrust it to me.” “Great!” the rabbit mom said. I had thought that we were supposed to help animals in need, not do their chores for them for nothing in return. But in resignation, I held my tongue. Cooking, then? It wasn’t anything my family was especially good at. The rest of our history aside, the lack of natural ingredients on Rhod had basically made it a lost art. “It’s not something I’ve done before,” I explained to our taskmaster, praying she would see reason. “I can’t guarantee it’ll turn out all right.”   “There’s three of you. The book is right there. “Like our friend here, I am highly skilled at following orders, so do not hold us back, River,” said Alibi. “Right…” I answered.  I glanced between my two coworkers. "Okay, who has baking experience?"   Both of them did the whole submissive pony thing, as if trying to physically shrink down.   "Nobody? Great. I'll take the lead then; I guess since I'm good at following orders."   "I never miss my mark," said Double.   The actual double agent looked at her in disbelief.   I guess I'm sort of more like him than her.   I shook my head. Double was weird enough to make the two of us look similarly "normal."   Alibi quickly tried to make eye contact with me to try and decipher my cryptic comment; junior princesses wouldn't be known to take orders. Although I quickly turned my head to counter, it was a bit of a needless gesture. After all, if he were even slightly more observant than a normal foal, he'd start to piece it together. After all, with a foals' constitution, it's not like I could carefully weigh every word and action I take.   "There's a cookbook in there that walks you through it," the rabbit mother said with a playful smirk.   I nodded, immediately moving towards the low cabinet.   "She said something about a book somewhere?" Double asked blithely, perhaps breaking character.   "Something… about a walrus?" Alibi tried, uneasy.   Am I good at this, or are they really bad?   "How come you're so much better at understanding what I say?" The mom inquired, asking my question for me. "She gets about every other word, while he has to be the least competent pony I've ever met in that regard."   I bit my tongue to hold back laughter at Alibi's expense. His lack of a reaction strongly evidenced she was correct.   "What makes me special then?" I felt stupid the moment the question had left me.   "Maybe it's an alicorn ability!" Double said excitedly.   The rabbit perked up. "Oh, yes, that does make sense. Although I had thought the word for them was "princesses."   She paused to think. "Your type must be pretty rare. I've never actually seen one before. Are you a mutation, or are your type just bad at—you know…" she pointed at her children.   I went beet red. "I'm—I'm just a child!" I said indignantly. I shouldn't know of anything like that."   She shrugged. "But you do know, apparently. And it's nothing unnatural. The best tip I can give you is to moderate your expectations."   I sighed and shook my head forcefully to try and regain my composure.   Fortunately, Alibi and Double hadn't understood enough of that exchange to make any counterproductive comments.   Groping for a distraction, I opened the book. A question I hadn't thought to pose to myself was answered as the recipes were mostly presented in the form of flow diagrams, which led me to wonder if the matron was completely illiterate.   Why doesn't she just do it herself? I thought to myself.   I would have whispered it, but I wasn't going to forget her radar ears.   "Here goes nothing…" I declared.     An hour later, we were somehow all covered in flour and cookie dough, with only eighteen cookies (our third attempt) to show for it. A mass of dough had stuck to the ceiling, and I had slightly more respect for Alibi.   Double reached for one of the cookies, fatigued, and I slapped her hoof away. This proved to be the correct decision, as no sooner had the bunny children caught a whiff and converged on the cookies all at once. They were gone in a minute.   Unfortunately, we had no time to mourn the cookies, as the children were now bouncing on the walls.   For a moment their mother was concerned, but this faded quickly.   "That reminds me: it's been a couple of days since their last bath time." Then a smile crept onto her face, as if reassured by the familiar. "So I've got good news and bad news: I won't make you bathe my babies."   If Celestia were present, I thought I might actually thank her personally, I was so relieved.   "No thanks. I bathe alone," Double said with a stoic nod.   "Yeah, what she said," said Alibi.   "But I will need you to pump in some water for the tub."   My annoyance piled on a little more, but I felt a nagging fatigue: my resistance was broken at this point.     It was thankfully a short walk to the river. Still, I didn't have time to waste.   "So, Double, what do you like to do for fun?" I asked. Truthfully, it was a lame opening gambit, but I had no idea how to approach her.   "I'm always on the precipice. Out of the millions of possibilities I try to coalesce around one, with singular purpose." She answered,striking a dramatic pose. She stared into the frog of her hoof, as if a great truth lay in it.   Well, that's helpful.   Alibi looked at me, suspicious of my intentions.   "And, um, what is that purpose?" I asked, trying to wrestle down my impatience.   "Transcendence."   "Is that metal handle the pump we're looking for?" Alibi asked, sparing me having to respond.   "Of course! The one amenity that would actually help us right now, they don't have," I griped, idly drumming the ground with my hooves. No way around it: we would have to get pumping.   Without any discussion between us, we all decided to take a soak in the river. It only occurred to me later that I shouldn't be able to swim. On Rhod, drowning was strictly theoretical but I somehow had the instincts to not do so.   The three of us then took turns, one resting while the remaining two handled the pump. We were done before we knew it, to my pleasant surprise.   On the way back, I steeled my nerves to try again. "So what are you parents like, Double?"   "My father is a wanderer, roaming from town to town. He's waiting for the right moment to reveal himself once again."   That sounds tough, but if she keeps leaving hints I might be able to understand her after all.   "And my mother is known as The Witch of the East, famous for curses, cauldrons and camels."   "Camels?" I couldn't help but echo. She nodded with confidence. Easy come easy go?   I took a breath. The suggestion given to me by Cake Slice and Pestle Mix bubbled to the surface of my awareness, as if it had never left me.   "You know, I hope you won't consider it something outside of the shadows in which you dwell —"   I froze in my tracks. Clearly I was spending too much time with her already to pick up her parlance that easily.   I cleared my throat. "Anyway, how do you want me to help you? Princess Celestia gave me some hints, but how do you want your friendship studies to turn out?"   "The path I walk is a fine one. Filled with joy and sadness. Taken at the start, it's like a curse—knowing no one can walk beside me.   I shook my fur out like a wet dog as we limbered up for our job. "Do you have any siblings?" I asked her. It was a question asked to stall for time, but I was stumped. I need time to decipher what she said.   "Well you see, the truth is…"   I braced myself for the stupid.   "I have—I mean…. no…."   I focused intently, hoping to decipher this latest clue.   "So, Double, who's your favorite Canterlot supervillain?" Alibi asked.   "I know not of what you speak," she said.   I leered at the changeling. "What are you doing?"   "I don't get why you are so interested in Double," Alibi explained.   "What makes you think that I'm interested?"   "You haven't been asking me any questions…"   "I understand exactly who you are. She mystif—is… interesting—as one of Celestia's friendship students."   I met eyes with her, and she wasn't clearly let down. I exhaled. Celestia forbid I encourage her little act.   Alibi grinned and spoke up, "My turn: hey, Double, do you know what River likes in a colt?"   I suddenly felt hot in my fur as embarrassment flooded into me; then anger overtook it, as if struck by a low blow that only worked because I was a filly.   "What are you doing?" I asked through clenched teeth with all the contempt I could muster.   "Oh, I'm just talking to Double. Or are you the only one who's allowed to?"   It was a simple retort, but it had me stumped.   "I regret to inform you that I do not possess that intelligence," Double answered seriously after having assessed her thoughts on the matter.   I exhaled.   "Can you find out?" Alibi asked.   I coughed mid-breath.   "Interesting. A mission that may prove dangerous indeed: spying on the secret life of one burdened with such destiny. Surely assassins and counterintelligence plots will crop up like weeds, challenging me to the root, but worry not, for I am a gardener of truth; you may entrust it to me."   "Please, you're the only one I could possibly entrust this task to," said Alibi, with far too much gravity.   I facehooved.   Ah, yes, my life needed more bothersome things. Thank you, Equestria. Upon returning, I sensed the rabbit wasn’t going to set us free quite yet. Sure enough: “Next I’ll get you three started in the garden.” “Garden?” I asked. “I didn’t see that coming in.”  I was quickly running out of time to come up with a persuasive argument for her to give us a break. “It’s on top, silly,” she said with an emphatic hop. “I just need some weeds pulled and some watering done.” “What’s she saying?” Perfect Double asked as she approached with her deliberately light steps. I turned my gaze to Double, accepting my reluctant role as a translator. “She’s having us help with gardening on the top of the hill—or her roof, or whatever.” If I was myself, I might have been comforted by the knowledge grown from life experience that starting the bothersome task would make me feel immediately better in the face of dread. Unfortunately, being a foal somehow made these adult truths feel less compelling. “There's more weeds than there is garden here. This is just a few flowers,” I critiqued.   "Well they are pretty—some would say,” said Double, recovering her dark and mysterious countenance.   “Still, considering they have a house, I was expecting a little more.”   “Like what?” asked Alibi.   “I don't know, carrots?”   They both stared at me.   “What? Rabbits and carrots… they go together all the time!"  They just kept staring.  "Well, they do! Come on, can you really fault me?” Alibi seemed to savor the awkwardness.   “I wonder what the others are doing. I asked,” tring to change the subject.   “My sources have reported something about helping the beavers building a dam,” said Alibi. "You have sources too?" Double asked excitedly. “Umm… well, a true agent never shows his hand, right?” “Right!” Double chirped. “Come on! Let’s get our next mission. All told, the three of us were actually fairly efficient, but I just knew that rabbit mother would find even more for us yet.  I then felt a strange calm fall on me. It was like some pressure on my horn that seemed to spread throughout my head. “Spacing out when there’s more to do, River?” the changeling asked a few moments later.  “What—oh, sorry.” I looked him in the eye while a blanket-like pressure was seemingly enveloping our surroundings. His eyes seemed to unfocus for a second. Then, he shook his head violently and took a moment to compose himself. That pause turned into a full minute of unnerving silence, only after which we readied our resolve for the journey back to the rabbit house. It would be a bit of a walk, but I sensed that there was a shortcut path that would take us straight there. The shade of the woods was a welcome change of pace after the somewhat strenuous task we had just completed. The ambience of the insects and animals around us could have soothed me to sleep. “So, when are you going to tell me about your mission?” Alibi asked. The annoying inquiry snapped me out of it. “I see no reason to fill you in,” I said coldly. “Though I can assure you: it’s much less exciting than you are imagining.” “You may not think much of it, but that’s top-level intelligence right there.” “Whatever…” I said, with less breath than I expected.  I felt a vise of anxiety grip my core as my heartbeat slowly sped up. I did my best to fake alertness by scanning my surroundings, but the result was just me moving my eyes from one spot to the next in an increasingly erratic pattern. I craved was beginning to experience a panic that had been building slowly. A couple of turns later we emerged from the forest and were greeted by the sun presiding over an open field, a simple wooden bridge the only decoration. As we crossed, I was finally able to formulate what exactly was wrong. Equestria may be silly, but there was no way the two of us would get lost going back to the house—the house that we were standing on! I looked to Alibi, but I couldn’t quite read him. “I think we’re just outside Ponyville,” Alibi commented. “Sounds about right,” I whispered back. “In fact, Fluttershy’s house should be coming up soon I think.” Does he notice it? He’s pretty sharp like that, but something weird’s happening. And won’t he pounce on the opportunity to be “chivalrous” if I say I’m worried? That gave me an idea for a distraction, and I figured I might as well clarify something. “You know I’m not fooled by your little act to make me jealous. It’s honestly a doomed endeavor since I’ve already gotten enough of your company.” Alibi grinned. “Just because you know what’s coming, doesn’t mean it won’t work.” I shook my head. “I was right to warn those fillies about you. Hopefully the word will get out that you’re not as cool or interesting as you seem.” He stifled a gasp. “You’ve been running a campaign to undermine my image in the eyes of the ever fickle and hopelessly romantic creatures that are fillies?” “I take offense to that,” I said weakly.  “Don’t change the subject! My mingling prospects are important.” he said. Looks like I was able to return the favor—I hit him with an attack that would only affect colts. Still, I would probably have plenty to get back at him for once Double actually got investigating. I waved a hoof for emphasis. “Just know, I will have zero sympathy for you if you actually fall for me in the midst of all this nonsense.” He stifled a laugh. “As if that would happen.” “Hopefully you’re right. Oh, how I hope you are right.” I concentrated with my full attention on our surroundings now that the conversation was over. It made no sense to chit-chat with him when something rather unnerving was going on. My actions made no sense. I wanted to find a way to calm down. Am I just scared? Why would I be? Come on, think! Was it a spell? Or did Alibi trick me? No, that doesn’t seem to be the answer… I remembered the pegasi guard unit dedicated to me—but they had failed before. I still had my geomancy in a pinch—but if I mishandled the harmony flavored energy of the planet, I could be a wailing infant in a few seconds. I froze. Well, there’s that… I shook my head. That was purely theoretical at this point. I got lucky once, and that was why I was here right now, but I wasn’t so naive to think things would go exactly as I imagined. Where are the non-violent options—more specifically, the ones that don’t involve cowering behind Alibi!? Suddenly, with a jolt, my senses honed in on a particular tree. Gesturing towards the same tree, Alibi donned a mischievous smile. “I already thought very little of your stealth skills, but come on! Your tail is visible.’’ I felt a momentary unease at the thought he had bested me in understanding our situation, but a re-emerging fear displaced it. A unicorn mare marked by mixed shades of purple and teal stepped out from behind the tree. “This isn’t an ambush,” she calmly replied. “My name is Starlight Glimmer, and I have a proposal for the young princess.” “Not a princess,” I snapped, reflexively. “Would have fooled me,” Alibi snarked. I took a weak swing at his ribs in response. “It’s simple,” said the unicorn, well-rehearsed. “Help me depose the current alicorn princesses, and we can rule this land together. You can have anything you want, and honestly, I think we can do better than our current regime. After all, who wants to live in a nation where innocent villages get ransacked by friendship vigilantes?”  She smiled a bit too broadly. “So, what do you say?” I was dumbfounded, and three of four sarcastic responses competed to be my answer. “Hey, I know you!” Alibi interjected. “You’re that crazy mare that applied to be a supervillian!” “I’m not crazy!” she protested. “And how do you know about that!?” “I dunno,” Alibi mused playfully. “I think the baseline is to assume crazy with anypony who showed up for the try-outs. As for how I know…” the fur on his head seemed to evaporate as chitin expanded underneath Starlight nodded, as her fears slowly developed before my eyes.  “That explains a lot actually about that whole situation,” she mused. “I—I knew you were familiar somehow.” Alibi flashed a playful smile at me. “She was one of the finalists. Brainwashing an entire village is pretty villainous, you know? Plus she was leading a cult aimed at stamping out individuality—you’d think she would be the ideal nefarious actor.  But me and the committee decided she was a little too smart and not worth the risk we couldn’t control her.” Starlight cocked her head. “I wasn’t expecting t—that to end with an indirect compliment, but I’ll take it. And I’ll have you know it was a gathering of like-minded individuals, and brainwashing is hardly evil when you're doing it for their own good! Besides, there were no spells used on anypony's mind; they all made their choices of their own will!” she said, weakly at first but getting more manic by the word, before she then composed herself.  “But anyway, what do you think about my proposal? Take your time—I won’t rush you.” Alibi casually morphed his head back into a foal’s. I put a hoof down hard. “I’m not too inclined to listen to someone casting spells on us without our permission.” She showed genuine, almost overbearing, remorse, which confused me to no end. “It’s a fairly minor and innocuous area of effect spell, but I see your point. Just because I didn’t cast it on you specifically doesn’t make it benign.” Starlight waited for a comment from me. So, without anything better to do, I obliged. “Why do you want to take over Equestria?” I asked, starting with what I actually wanted to know—somehow keeping a straight face. “Well, it’s what villains do I hear…” she commented, unsure. “So you are a bad pony then?” “Well… ummm..no, I don’t think so.”  I sighed. This was going to be tedious. “Really, I’m not evil or anything—just made some mistakes. But, well, I opposed Princess Twilight with force, and I kind of have no choice…” “Did you try apologizing?” Alibi asked.  Starlight considered it for a tense moment before shaking her head. “No, what I’ve done you don’t just forgive…” “You sure?” Alibi asked bluntly. “I mean I tried to kidnap this pony princess and I got off pretty easy.” Starlight’s jaw slowly dropped as her eyes went wide. “That—that can’t be right…”  Alibi did a little hop. “100% true! I had to make a lot of promises, but Celestia understood why I acted the way I did and forgave me.” Starlight’s puzzled expression contorted even more. “So… if I tell her why I did those things in my village, she might want to understand me?” “She’s nosy like that!” Alibi said, chipper. Starlight looked between the two of us. “Well, that changes… quite a bit. I think I’ll go back and try apologizing. Thank you, Changeling.” She bowed her head. “It’s Alibi,” my cohort corrected. She then looked to me. “Thank you, Princess.” “Not a princess,” I repeated. Starlight sighed in relief. “I’m so glad I chose this scheme instead of my original plan. Can you imagine? Stealing a forbidden spell to go back in time and erase Twilight Sparkle’s connection with her friends? It sounds ridiculous now that I’m saying it out loud.” She gave a forced laugh. She’s serious, isn’t she? The mare bowed her head. “Thank you again, young Alibi, and you, Pr—um… pony. I’ll strive to be reformed better than anypony has ever been!” Well, that was surprisingly easy. I barely had to lift a hoof and this new problem resolved itself. Why can’t all my affairs be like that? And how does she not even know my name? She came here to recruit me, after all. Maybe her sources are even less reliable than Double’s. “If I start walking now, I should be at Canterlot before I know it!” She paused. “Still, I wonder why I’ve gravitated towards this spot. There’s something here. It seems strange… yet inviting… there was no real reason not to just meet you at the edge of the forest.” “Wasn’t that just your magic?” I asked, uneasy. She shook her head. “I actually just shrouded the house in cognitive concealment magic and then laid a traced magical path back here using an attention-drawing spell. Still, I’m surprised you made it here so quickly, my traced magical path was a bit more circuitous. She thanked us again and then dashed off. “Should I have told her that I would blow up if I broke my promises to Princess Celestia?” Alibi asked. I looked him straight in the eye in disbelief. “Yeah, I would think you did the right thing leaving that point out.” It was too violent a method for Celestia to be the truth, but he didn’t need to know that. I think. I mean, I’m pretty sure—like 80% at least. I took a deep breath. “I see what Starlight was saying. I feel so energized in this spot. There’s something that almost wants to be discovered.” Maybe… I closed my eyes and my horn lit up. Then, I was swallowed whole into a space-distorting pocket. Talmar—a poorly understood world. Not a soul from The Outside had ventured to any of its eight great cities. Which in all honesty bolstered the whole not understood thing. In fact, not even those that claimed the cities as homes themselves seemed to understand one another all too often, which made the whole one world nation thing quite awkward. For this reason a regular council got together, fostering understanding, appreciation and cooperation. And so, such a gathering was even now taking place, with councilors from each city—and from other less exalted locations—together in one, majestic place. The transparent ceiling vaulted high above their heads signifying heights yet reached, while a massive pool beneath the delegates seated in the surrounding auditorium represented the crystallization of wisdom.  With a smack of the gavel, the heads of each delegation stood and bowed to the assembly in turn. Chief among the delegations was that of the great city of philosophers, Wadoor. Upon the highest observation tower was her representative, Leaven. The wiry thin representative seated himself, and then the remainder followed, in order of rank. With that ritual out of the way, Leaven pushed himself to a standing position again with a single talon on the pulpit and, habitually, he tugged his hood of office to a secure position.    "I'll skip the opening remarks," he began. "We all know why we're here. If you don't by now, best pretend otherwise."   "No one's here for advice," spoke the delegation immediately left of Leaven, led by the Pillock of Spinnigts.  Leaven sighed. The disrespect was expected at this point. It was tiresome to do so, but he thought it at least courteous to remind the minor delegations not to readily admit ignorance. "Since my good friend Leaven is content to be bland and respectful trying to get to the point, I'll be the one to be brush aside a little decorum," said Riks. His face, full of golden fur, seemed to shine with confidence. “I’m sure everyone here knows, so there’s absolutely no harm in explaining the reason for our gathering: the portal on Nereseren. Unfortunately, I do not have the answers that we crave the most: How was this portal created? Will it stabilize on its own? Can it allow for travel between universes? Honestly, if we had those answers, we would be busy doing something more productive than this.”  Riks swept the room for interest, which he found to be severely lacking. Not that that would stop him.   “The Korpix still remain ignorant of the portal, but let us not underestimate the potentially catastrophic consequences of that fact changing.“ He sighed. "Researchers in our City of Festival Nights have decided to promote  “The Leaky Faucet Postulate” to “The Leaky Faucet Theory.” Although it was plain as day that magic in our universe isn't natural, the mathematicians have finally proven it, so now it’s official.” “How trifling. As if something so minor can inform our actions,” mused the Three-Eyed Giant of Wallayt delegation from across the pool.  Something in his eyes made something in Riks buckle, but not give. Leaven smiled—with a challenger to wrestle, that was when Riks was at his best. “Then perhaps it might interest you that this could explain the Great Metamorphosis,” Riks said with a grin. “You don’t mean—” said the giant. “Indeed, the magical half-life of the portal radiation matches up perfectly: the Korpix were transformed into mini-equines overnight by the initial shock of the portal’s opening.” “It never did make sense,” said a respected sage from a lower delegation, scratching his bearded chin. “It’s not unheard of for dominant species to modify their genetic code to make improvements, but why would they do so and exhibit such apparent shame over their radically changed forms?” “So what if they were!?” shouted the giant. “And so what if they’re the most magical species in the known universe? Our engineers validated that our barriers can survive the impact of the magical equivalent of an arsenal of warheads.” Leaven smiled. Riks had already made his point brilliantly. Once the triclops (his actual name was unfortunately nigh unpronounceable) convened with his advisors he would grasp the magnitude of what had just been shared: if magic could be crafted in this universe that overwrote the very bodies of an entire race, you wouldn’t blunt magical force to circumvent Talmar’s defenses. You would only need a structured magical directive—a ‘spell.’”   A shrill, female laugh silenced the internal deliberations. "Their change into Mini-equines was and still is unprecedented. Why not work ourselves into a frenzy over what else "might" happen? We could be next for all we know."   Leaven took a moment to compose himself and do what he could to conceal his anger. The Shala were always sowing chaos when they could. Still in this case, he could understand: all of them had been safe from the Korpix threat for thousands of years—and now they were laid bare.   "The physiological, psychological and philosophical implications of their transformation are truly fascinating. Our people would be more than happy to fill all of you in," said The Professor. "Should another chaotic event such as that happen, we have made the appropriate preparations.”   The woman seated next to the Pillock of Spinnigts shrugged. "I suppose they've made it work. With or without your preparations, we would be fine."    "We’d be better than fine. We're not like them: extending our lifespans," said one of the minority faction leaders on the side. "What could be a more sinister way to stagnate?"   "If there's one thing we all know well here, it's stagnation," a male Shala remarked.   “That's one thing they do have over us: patriotism. You might consider trying it sometime," countered the woman, leering at him.   This is precisely why he hated these meetings. They were gatherings of the most knowledgeable people on the planet, but also the most cynical and pedantic too.    "And I suppose the odds of them not noticing their unique affinity is declining with that portal sputtering magic everywhere,” said a minor faction leader. "Why couldn't we have gotten one instead?"   "Not as if we could use it," said the Xel'Natta leader. “I’d love to try…” said The Professor.   "Fourteen species among us here, and no magic users," a Shala said with a chuckle. He turned to the newest of the minority factions: "You so-called 'Lost Rhods', pray tell us: are you truly so incapable that your oppressed brethren have it and you simply don't?"   The lone human on the other side of the chamber stood up. "Permission to take the floor?"   "Granted," said Leaven, resisting the urge to voice his appreciation that someone still actually cared about formalities. Or respected them enough to at least try. "Wadoor recognizes the… Lanky Librarian."   Why did we ever think allowing epithets in court was a good idea…   "First of all, we would remind the lady of Shala it is the 'Lost Lusiads.' But no, it is not an indictment of our abilities. Frankly, those midgets are practically a different species at this point." He stretched his seven-foot frame for good effect. "They lost sight of the True Way long ago and have regressed to dim-witted barbarians. But enough about our estranged cousins. It sounds to me like all of you have just given up. We can win, and subjugate the Korpix once and for all!” The reptilian Txel delegation spoke for the first time: “Even if we could match their military might, mass slaughter would throw away those values we most hold dear. Perhaps you humans are outsiders at heart still?”   The former Rhod smirked. “What if we were to use their magic affinity against them? If they can interact with it strongly, then the reverse must hold true per Hortz’s Law. And what if we were to interact with their magical nature to impose a sort of ‘natural law’ on them, using, say, harmonic oscillations? “‘Harmony’ so to speak. That’s the tentative name I’ve learned.” Leaven felt uneasy, legs faltering beneath him. If this proposal was what he thought, it would not involve actual prohibited violence… yet it may be far worse.   Quarrel hummed a low-pitch tune as he picked up his house following Diane’s departure. Chaos was nice, but that was no excuse to be a complete slob. When your space is out of whack, weird things happen: elevated blood pressure, increased fear of clowns, hearing muffled voices from the armoire… “Wait…” Quarrel whispered. “That’s not quite right.” In imitation of what he’d seen the Rhods do, he took a few quick, soft steps towards the mysterious noise.  Taking a moment to brace himself, he opened the top drawer. Before him lay a doubly strange site: a young pony. “Okay, now I’m confused…” Quarrel said aloud. “You’re confused? Where the heck am I?” said the sky-blue filly bearing a pink mane, eyes darting around the room. “I was in a sunny place, now I’m here, and aren’t you Quarrel!?” “You’re the one that showed up randomly in my sock drawer.” He paused, placing a digit on his lower chin. “Wait… don’t I know you?” He paused for drama. “Oh, and you’re Diane’s sibling too.”