//------------------------------// // A Screw Loose // Story: A Pup Named Fenrir // by MisterEdd //------------------------------// The sunlit grass was warm beneath my paws, every individual blade crisply swishing with every step I took across the expanse of open fields. My fur languidly danced in the soft springtime wind, carrying with it the scent of flowers and tree bark, along with about a hundred other different odors too numerous to break down and identify. The twittering cacophony of bird-song echoed throughout the land like a chorus of valkyries, the shield-goddesses who ferried their souls to the other side as they serenaded them with miraculous, indescribably beautiful voices...or so I've heard. The valkyries that I saw either practiced their war-craft in the Asgard training yard or served bubbling mead and smoked pork to the einherjar in the fabled feasts held in Valhalla. The feasts that I was forbidden from attending, by the way. What? No, of course I'm still not sore about that. Why do you ask? I continued across the field until I passed the treeline, making my way deep into the forest that I'd unerringly determined was the Járnviðr of my early puphood. I passed a particularly tall and healthy-looking avenbok and inhaled its earthy musk, a pungent reminder of the days I'd spent nestled beneath the shade of such a tree. The catkins dangling from the tree's branches released their seeds in little clusters, either dropping straight down to the soil or carried off by the breeze to pollinate and produce more avenbokars. Such a simplistic thought yet amazingly potent. My brother used to tease me about my inclination of sitting under trees and observing the world around me, joking that I spent so much time amongst them that I'd one day turn into a tree and then I could daydream all I wanted. Maybe Jormungandr was jealous of his own empty life and, envious of my carefree nature, sought to bring me down and share his misery. Hel, of course, was worse, grabbing me by the scruff and shoving me onto a branch high off of the ground, laughing as she walked away and left me there, sometimes waiting hours before returning to let me back down. Other times she would hog-tie me with Jormungandr and twist his tail into a knot so he couldn't simply uncoil himself. Jory may've been an insolent little shit but he just threw insults my way that were mostly made in jest, primarily harmless barbs that were forgiven and forgotten by the next day. Living up to our mother's expectations was priority one and I couldn't blame him for that, not really. On the flip side, Hel was a sadistic níðingr whose heart was as dead and lifeless as her cadaverous half-face. If not for her needless cruelty and viciousness, I might've felt sorry for Hel's self-loathing about her physical appearance but she chose to externalize that bitterness and torment both Jormungandr and myself. Yes, we were both older but not by much and she possessed the height advantage, dexterity and jotann cunning in order to torment us both. The fact that our mother did nothing to interfere certainly didn't help matters since, in her words, "our kind lives by the law of strength." Besides, I was the eldest and carried with me the expectation of being able to hold my own without mommy's interference. Deeper into the Járnviðr I trekked until at last I happened upon Angrboða sitting atop a horizontal log. She was dressed in a shimmering chartreuse-green dress with bright green accents, golden threads lining the front, sleeves and hem. A mantle of eagle-feathers adorned her shoulders and were held in place with silver, ruby-encrusted tortoise brooches. Her raven hair flowed freely to her waist and a mistletoe and deer antler crown hung low on her brow. Angrboða smiled and beckoned me closer with a sway of her grayish-white hand. "Come closer, my son. It's been too long." I complied, albeit at a slow pace and took a seat across from the witch. I began to scrutinize her more closely, as though I was beginning to see things I'd never noticed before, either from disinterest or personal bias. Angrboða's feline-esque eyes were bloodshot and dimly glowed within sagging eyelids bordered by heavy dark rings, possible indicators of recent insomnia and stress. She appeared ascetically thinner, almost to the point of emaciation and her skin, usually a gleaming snow-white, took on a more grayish-white hue that brought to mind a victim of malady. Her thin lips were drawn tightly around a cruel-looking mouth filled with slightly-yellowed fangs, bringing to mind a hungry predator of savage malice. A chill ran down my spine at this revelation and I fought to control the shudder that threatened to release itself as a result. "I haven't seen you as of late." Angrboða nodded. "Yes, I apologize for that, Vánagandr. Something has been keeping me away from you." "I began to have memories of my old life," I admitted somewhat starkly. "You were quite cruel towards my siblings and I, especially me." The gýgr smiled sweetly and clasped her hands together on her lap. "You have to understand Fenrir, that my behavior was for your own good, for the good of your siblings. Most of all, it was what was best for all jötunnkind." "Really?" I half-inquired skeptically. "How so?" "I needed my children to be strong, tough and fearless for the battle to come. It wasn't time for fun and games. We all needed to be on our guard, to be prepared for an attack at any time and place." This explanation would've actually sufficed at one point but at this moment, something about Angrboða's words rang hollow. Perhaps it was Fluttershy's influence, all of her compassion and positivity, which was shutting down the warg part of my brain that agreed with the woman sitting across from me. Jötunn culture placed a heavy emphasis on physical strength, mental fortitude, ferocity and stalwartness in the face of adversity whereas pony society was all about affection, kindness, altruism and communal solidarity. I'd seen firsthand how it felt to be accepted and even loved and although it'd taken some time, I'd become a member of Ponyville despite my sordid past. No, I could not accept this answer. "Do you really expect me to buy that bullshit?!" I snarled, causing Angrboða to jump in her seat. We were both stunned. I'd never raised my voice to her, nor bared my teeth in anger whilst in her presence. "Even parents during wartime show their offspring some shred of affection. You only gave us love if we proved our magical acumen or physical abilities. The rest of the time, we weren't worth your attention." "Fenrir..." The more I thought about it, a clear picture began to form in my head. I recalled the day that the Aesir came for us, a moment that'd replayed itself over and over during my imprisonment: a sobbing Angrboða ineffectually screaming at the gods to return her children as we were led away with shackles and chain leashes. However, when that scene was presented to me now, all I could remember was the giantess staring at us as I thrashed and cried out to her to help us... "...You let them take us," I gasped comprehensively. Angrboða went absolutely still, her mouth drawn into a taut line. "You...you just stood by as those bastards took them from our home." Angrboða set her jaw and glared at me. "And what, pray tell, would you have done in my place? Hmm?" Practically shooting up from her perch, Angrboða circled me like a carrion crow. "We jötnar were being hunted by Mjölnir's Wielder, butchered like cattle by that red-haired oaf. Odin sicced his attack-dog on us and we had to take it. Would you alone have dared to defy three Aesir, one of whom was the Allfather himself? What should I have done?" She suddenly halted in front of me, her golden hazel eyes piercing into my grayish-blue ones. Sighing deeply, she allowed her previously aggressive and defensive stance slacken, her shoulders sagging and her head bowed, her chin resting against her chest. Glancing up at me, the witch's demeanor became more remorseful, sorrow-filled even as she reached underneath my chin with a slim hand and lightly scratched at the skin with her long nails, her touch as cold and clammy as wet clay. Angrboða's smile was one of bitter hopefulness. "My son," Angrboða said sweetly but sadly. "I'm sorry that I hurt you and made you feel inferior. I have no excuses for my behavior. Perhaps one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me." Oh, how I wanted to believe her. Perhaps a part of me wanted to but I couldn't ignore my instincts. "I don't know if I can," I replied to her evident disappointment. "I'm sorry." Angrboða wistfully cupped my cheeks. "It is alright, son. Take your time. As you know, I'll always be here for you should you ever need me." "Thank you." "'Thank you,' what?" I stared at her in confusion, the giantess' expression just as bewildered as mine. It then dawned on me that not once did I refer to her as "Mother" as I was wont to do in the past. Truth be told, I hadn't thought of her as my mother in a long time, that particular slot having since been filled by Fluttershy. It used to be that I judged Angrboða with blind reverence but now I realized that I no longer recognized the woman standing before me. I felt nothing for her, not even a shred of affection, my love now belonging to the yellow pegasus that took me into her home and heart. "Thank you...Mother." My spirit wasn't quite in it and I think my birth mother picked up on it, looking slightly disappointed as she lowered her hand and took a step back. She then peered at me curiously. "You've changed quite a lot, my son." "For the better, I hope," I stated, then considered something. "Mother, I wish to live a peaceful life." Angrboða went rigid. "You wish to...oh, Fenrir, that is not a wise idea," she countered almost faintly. "You're not thinking clearly. Ill is the result of letting fear rule thine actions." "I'm not doing this out of fear and my thought process has never been clearer. A little violence now and then is fine, if I'm hunting or defending my family but on the whole, I'm done fighting and killing. No more destruction or needless bloodshed. I'm through." "You...you're serious, aren't you?" Swaying a bit, Angrboða put a small fist to her chest, her breathing increasing. "You can't just quit," Angrboða half-protested, half-commanded. "Destruction and bloodshed are who you are, who you were always fated to be." "To Hel with fate. I've let it rule me for too long. Now, I make my own fate." "But..." I curiously observed the witch pacing, her head turning back and forth as she muttered to herself in troll-speak, her words too fast and quiet that I couldn't make heads or tails of them. She then spun and faced me once again. "Wait! What about...what about your fellow jotnar? There is still a war going on, you know. Our surviving brothers and sisters are battling the last remnants of the gods' old regime. Magni and Móði, though not as terrible as their late father, both wield Mjölnir with much fury and skill, smashing through our ranks as though they were glass. Up against their might, as well as the combined efforts of Baldur, Skaði, Thrúd, Ullr, Vidarr, Freyja and the surviving valkyries, we don't stand a chance." This news would've disturbed the old me, the former Fenrir-slash-Vánagandr, spurring him to action and, more importantly, inspiring him to once again create oceans of slaughter-dew. Be that as it may, I wasn't the same wolf that I was then. Equestria taught me many lessons about joy and friendship, that love and laughter were more important than death and ruin. Life-robbery no longer had the same appeal, that last ember dying within the old me. The Beast of Slaughter was no more. "I'm sorry but my answer is still no," I told her firmly. "The jotnar no longer concern me. Just because I'm a warg, that doesn't mean that my allegiance automatically belongs to Jotannheim. This isn't my war." A strange gargling sound bubbled in Angrboða's throat, her stare towards me vacant and severe. "I fear, my little pup, that it just might become your war...very soon..." ~*~ The everglow's rays filtered through the window of my Canterlot room, blasting me in the face with full force. I swore aloud, cursing Princess Celestia's name and pulled the thick blanket tighter around me when something began caressing my left ear, a soft pressure that lightly gripped either side of the flap and massaged it. It was actually quite pleasant and I lightly hummed in delight at the sensation. My eyes fully opened and my pleasure turned to confusion, then alarm when I realized that not only was I wide awake but I was not alone. I rolled onto my left side and found a gray face leering towards me, fluttering his eyelashes in a very effeminate manner. "Morning darling," Discord announced casually. I recoiled, tumbling off of the queen-sized mattress and onto the wooden floor, becoming entangled in my blanket. The draconequus proceeded to cackle madly as I squirmed within the blanket, wildly punching and kicking at the fabric. Once I'd liberated myself from the cloth prison, I rose to my paws and snarled at Discord, who was nonchalantly using a rather unperturbed Gummy as a nail-file for his eagle-claw. Gummy raised his soulless eyes to me. "Hello, Fen," he stated flatly. "Do you see how I have once again fallen victim to the whims of a fickle universe? Yesterday, I was a pudding taste-tester. Today, I am a nail-file." "As per usual, I have no idea what you're talking about." "That is alright," Gummy replied. "At least you humor me." "Yaaaaawn! Quantum existentialism is soooo boring!" SNAP! Gummy had been unceremoniously transported to another location, leaving Discord and I alone. "Where's Mother?!" "Hmm? Oh, you mean Fluttershy? She woke up early and decided to let you sleep in." Great, so now I was left with him. "Not to sound impolite," I began. "But what in the Hvergelmir are you doing here?" Discord's grin widened, his paw and claw held up and his fingertips tapping together. "I've come to collect on that debt that you owe me," he chuckled sinisterly. A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I swallowed away the apprehension. "Is that so?" I asked him, trying to remain as casual as possible. Discord nodded, then placed his paw to his temple. "Hmm..." "What?" He looked at me somberly. "I felt a great disturbance, as if thousands of perverts suddenly cried out in excitement and were suddenly silenced." My confusion only intensified so I merely nodded. "Right...so what are we going to do?" "You'll see..." Discord snickered, snapping the fingers on his lion's paw. There was a white sparkly flash, followed by the emergence of a small equine shape. I watched a dark pink earth pony, a filly by the looks of her, materialize inside of my room, a propeller beanie situated on top of her poofy purple and white mane. Instead of plummeting, the filly remained bobbing up and down in the air, frantically turning her head back and forth to survey her new surroundings, not that there was much to look at. Her eyes were a dark violet with little pink swirls like a hypnotist's device and I felt instantly unnerved, not from their appearance but from the unbridled madness that they possessed. The filly gasped and swooped headfirst into Discord's chest, wrapping her forelegs around him and nuzzling her face into the fur, affording me a glimpse at her cutie mark: a baseball and a screw. "Hi Daddy! I missed you so much!" What...? "Hohoho, I missed you too, my little mischief-maker." What...? Discord turned towards me, the filly nestled in his arms. "This magnificent mayhem machine is my daughter, Screwball. Say, 'Hi Fenrir,' honey." "Hi Fenrir-honey!" What?! "Since when do you have a daughter?" Discord clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I have my own life, thank you very much. It's not as if I share the details of my existence for everyone to know. How boring!" The presence of Discord's offspring invited far too many theories as to her origins and the draconequus' mode of reproduction, something that I never wanted to think about or picture. "I was pulling pranks on ponies with Mommy and I turned a pegasusses's hat into a platypus!" "Very good, Screwball! That's my girl!" Discord hooted, ruffling Screwball's mane. He then directed his attention back towards me. "Look, here's the deal," Discord continued. "The reason that you two are being introduced is because I have some business to attend to and I need someone to watch Screwball." "You want me to fillysit your daughter?" I rubbed my nose. "Let's set aside the fact that I was unaware that you had a child in the first place, nor was there any indication that you were a parent. Why would you want me to watch her? Isn't Fluttershy the far more reasonable choice?" "Reason and I don't get along very well," Discord sighed dramatically. "She is a sore loser, especially when it comes to Scrabble. At least Death and Time have the good grace to thank me after the game is over. As for your other question, if memory serves me correctly, you owe me a favor, remember?" Crap, he certainly brought up a good point there. On the one paw, I really didn't want to be saddled with this weirdo's progeny but on the other paw, he did save my life and I gave him my word. Keeping one's oath was a sacred thing, a task that everyone and everything was expected to uphold and formed the very backbone of the universe. Oath-breaking resulted in great misfortune and tragedy; when the gods presented me with Gleipnir, Tyr swore that they were not trying to trick me. As a result, he lost both his hand and position as a settler of man's disputes. "I remember." "Splendid! Ta-ta for now, my little abomination. Have fun with Big Brother Fenrir until I return to pick you up at two p.m.!" "Bye Daddy! Have a good time!" "Wait, Discord, what am I-...?" One shower of sparks and the son of an ormr was gone before I could even finish my question. I sat down and Screwball mimicked me, plopping down on the floor as I tried to figure out what my next step should be. Not only had a filly been suddenly thrust into my care but she was Discord's and apparently had the same kind of reality-warping powers that he did. I had some experience dealing with foals via playtime with the Cake twins and the CMCs but now I had to actually supervise and provide for a foal while her parents and/or guardians were presumably in another town and/or alternate dimension instead of a couple of minutes away. Well, at least if there's any trouble, I can go to my friends for help and in the worst-case scenario, I can call for Discord and he can poof back into the picture to clean up the mess he was responsible for. "So...what do you want to do?" Screwball poked at her chin in contemplation. "I know! Let's go to the beach!" I didn't have a moment to prepare myself before I'd been flung from my spot and into some sort of void, spinning through the empty space like an arrow. A kaleidoscopic barrage of colors whooshed past me, whistling and twirling in streaks of dancing luminescence that were both blinding and dim all at once. Although it appeared as though I was flying in a straight line, it, in truth, seemed as though I was also falling straight down and tumbling sideways. I might've been screaming, vibrations traveling through my vocal cords, or it had been in my head and I was hurtling with complete silence. Screwball, on the other paw, was whooping and hollering as she zipped right alongside me, forelegs held high above her head. "Wheeeee! Fenrir, throw your paws up! It's not fun unless your paws are up in the air!" "No thank you!" I managed through my flapping cheeks. "I'm fine like this!" "Yaaaaaa-hoo-hoo-hoo-hooey!" Screwball shrieked in delight. Why do I bother getting out of bed? I don't know if we fell or slid out of...wherever we were, but at last I was on solid ground, my trembling legs threatening to drop me onto my belly. "Yes! That was awe-some!" Rather than some sun-drenched beach, we appeared to be in some sort of vast garden, the scent of crushed lilies and damp leaves hanging heavy in the air. The grass beneath my paws was soft and lush but instead of green, it was jet-black in color. I looked around, noticing that everything, from the tulips to the picket fences, were all different shades of black. Night-black hedges, onyx roses, rich black daffodils, smoky hyacinths, hay, even the soil was darkly monochromatic. The sole bright color to be seen was the sky, the vault of heaven high above us being a very pale grayish-blue, and I was surprised to see that, given the otherwise invariant color scheme. I spotted a charcoal tree full of large, ebony apples that, while unpleasant at first glance, carried with them a sort of sour-sweet odor similar to the green apples back at Sweet Apple Acres, only with a slightly more nectarous tangy aroma underlain with a sort of sharp, ineffable crispness. I found myself half-tempted to sample one before the more rational part of my brain refuted that idea entirely. "This doesn't look like a beach-..." "I know that!" Screwball fired back, catching herself at the last minute. "We're just, erm...taking a detour!" A shrill scraping sound pierced the otherwise silent realm and we found a tall figure clad in a black robe sharpening a scythe with a foot-operated grinding stone, blue semi-transparent sparks flying off of the glittering blade. Nearby, a bearded old man in a fedora and glasses was lounging in a wooden lawn chair, jotting down ideas and munching on some cookies out of a plastic container sitting on a nearby picnic table. Apparently stricken with inspiration, the old man excitedly leapt to his feet and began to relate something to the robed figure, opening his fist and splaying his fingers outwards. There was something charmingly whimsical about the old man, some kind of wondrous joie de vivre in the way he was flailing his arm and outlining his story to his silent friend. He was speaking of faraway lands, wizards, monsters, gods and absurd comedic circumstances, painting a vivid mental picture of hilarity and imagination. "After escaping the Troll King, Rincewind heads back to Pseudopolis Yard and employs the services of famed detective Sherman Hames. Together, they decide to hunt down the Octavo and discover its theft by failed Unseen University student Hermie Pooter, who plans to drive Great A'Tuin into a nearby sun. This, of course, was all orchestrated by Ruudainthelads, God of Being-Particularly-Abrupt-With-People and Not-So-Very-Nice-Individuals." His robed companion nodded and, becoming aware of our presence, put his task on hold, soundlessly rising to his full height. This forced me to release the gasp that I'd been subconsciously suppressing upon seeing the chalk-white skull that peeked from out of his hood. In place of eyes, two shining blue orbs hovering freely within his empty eye sockets, burning like tiny twin stars. I had never met him before but one look into his eyes and I instantly knew who he was. Our paths had crossed before at some previous point or at the very least, something that was like him. The figure's one bony hand caressed the snaith as he cocked his head curiously. HELLO THERE, SCREWBALL, He boomed, His voice was like an iron gate creaking open. CARE FOR A CUP OF TEA? I'VE JUST PUT THE KETTLE ON. I tried to speak, only managing a few choked squeaks. Screwball, however, appeared unperturbed by the sight. "No thanks, Mr. Death! We're just passing through!" VERY WELL, THEN. THANKS FOR DROPPING BY. "At least take some biscuits with you," the old man offered, swiping the plastic container off of the table and holding it out. "I'm trying out a new recipe with nutmeg and cinnamon." "Thank you, Mr. P!" Screwball scooped up some cookies and noisily shoveled them into her maw. "Mmm-mmm, delicious! I think you've really outdone yourself!" "It tickles me to hear that." The old man then peered at me. "Is your canine friend alright? He looks a bit spooked." "Who, Fenrir? He's fine, just new to the whole interdimensional travel-thing." HAS HE TRIED MAKING FISTS WITH HIS TOES? Death suggested. I HEAR IT DOES WONDERS FOR INTER-DIMENSIONAL LAG. Retraining myself long enough to avoid shivering with fright, I gulped and attempted to smile. "N-no, I haven't," I admitted through chattering teeth. "But I'll g-give it a try." "Bye you two! I'll see you later!" The ground and strange garden were ripped away, leaving the two of us once again being yanked through the vacuum of flashing colors, many of which I couldn't even begin to describe and doubted that they could be accurately defined. I distinctly recall the sensation of being compacted into a ball the size of a marble...or was I being stretched into a hundred different directions, molded into a million different shapes and passing through an infinite number of realms scattered throughout space-time? Even as I record this memoir, I can't remember exactly what it was that I experienced in that place-between-places, merely that it was an extrasensory wonder beyond mortal reckoning. What I do know is that the two of us eventually dropped downward, descending like meteorites but instead of crash-landing, we arrived safely on coarse, thick soil that smelled faintly of seaweed and dead, rotting fish. I hacked up a cough and fought back the bile that'd climbed to the top of my throat. "Another detour?" I half-rhetorically, fully sarcastically wheezed. Screwball nodded, albeit shakily. "Duh, of course it is. What, do you think I accidentally brought us to the wrong location by mistake and tried to cover it up with false bravado?" "That sounds pretty suspect-..." Whatever I was going to say curled up and died in my mouth, the words slain by a sudden profound sense of dread that burrowed itself deep within my soul. We stood within the borders of an unfathomably vast and sprawling city, consisting of hideous stone monoliths, cyclopean spires and titanic temples decorated in horrendous imagery and inscribed with frightening hieroglyphs. The buildings themselves were of a material and design I'd never seen before nor would've even conceived of and for that, I was counting my blessings. In the midst of my terror and amazement, I came to the conclusion that the city's geometry was as awe-inspiring as it was unnatural. I craned my neck up towards the pitch-blackness of the night sky, bright stars dancing as they ascended upwards. A split second later and it dawned on me that the "sky" was actually the depths of some vast ocean and the "stars" lost within its expanse were bubbles. That discovery, however, paled in comparison to the realization that such a giant metropolis was somehow deserted, no signs of life great or small existing anywhere and hadn't for an indescribable amount of eons. The silence was so deafening that I feared my own sense of hearing would be lost, fallen victim to the stillness of the dead city. A nearby wall featured a bas-relief depicting some sort of monster possessing a tentacled, octopus-like head atop a squat body with long limbs and a pair of massive wings, almost as though a kraken and a dragon copulated and birthed some sort of unholy spawn. "Screwball...where...are...we?" "It looks like R'lyeh," she answered nonchalantly. "The Nightmare Corpse-City." "Oh brilliant!" The filly zipped above my head, her pose one of lackadaisical excitement. "I know right? We're the first ones to visit in over three-point-four billion years!" A thunderous drone reverberated against the vacant walls and structures of R'lyeh, the deep-throated whistling boom almost akin to the beautiful, heartbreaking keening of whale-song. This, however, sounded much larger and carried with it a kind of shuddering raspiness, similar to a giant predator issuing a warning growl. Following the source of the profoundly disturbing roar, my heart stopped when my stare landed on-no, careened into-a colossal mound of pulsating flesh situated inside of the very center of R'yleh. It was the weird octo-draconic figure from the bas-relief curled up in the fetal position, its immense wings folded around it in an approximate imitation of a giant blanket. The creature exhaled and another roar tore through the air, the tentacles around its mouth wagging around like massive hissing serpents. This thing was snoring! "Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!" Screwball intoned lightheartedly, too much so for my taste. "Screwball," I uttered gravely, not daring to tear my eyes off of the monstrosity. "May we go now?" "Hold on..." One pop-flash later, and Screwball was grinning through the lens of her suddenly-materializing camera. "I spy my new Hearth's Warming carrrrd!" She sang joyously before the ground gave way beneath me. I never thought I'd be so happy to once again be free-falling in trans-dimensional space and if I could, I'd fall to my belly and kiss it. That elation was soured somewhat by the pockets of air that repeatedly slapped me in the face, each one colder and more harder than the last, every hit that made contact accompanied by a curling flash of color and resounding with a loud bong sound. Unshockingly, my chaotic guide was unfazed by the assault, giggling madly and twisting from side to side. "He he, stop, it tickles!" There was blinding whiteness, followed closely by buzzing yellow spots that left me temporarily dazed. "What the hell?!" My vision returned and this time, we were surrounded by light teal-colored walls lined with golden-brown trim. There was a large metal shelf stuffed to full capacity with books, primarily fantasy, horror and science-fiction, some tomes lying horizontally across the tops of the otherwise neatly arranged volumes. A bed had been partially made, the wrinkled sky-blue and white striped sheets haphazardly tossed over the mattress and a light-brown pillow covered in puppies lay partially hanging over the edge. What drew my attention was the human laying propped up on his feet and hands, staring widely at me through his thick dark blue reading glasses, his lips moving soundlessly as his head jerked back and forth between the filly and I. He was a rail-thin young man with short dirty-blond hair and a small beard, clothed in baggy dark gray sweatpants, a navy blue T-shirt with the logo of a black bat in a yellow circle and a fuzzy blue bathrobe. "Hi there!" Screwball was nearly touching noses with the stunned man. "How are you?" "I-I-I...uh..." I turned and found a wooden desk to my immediate left, where an odd device lay on top of it, the object consisting of two silver slabs connected at their longest sides, one end standing up and glowing lightly like a candle. It reminded me of a typewriter but flatter, the keys appearing as little squares and rectangles embedded within the secondary slab. I peered closer at the top slab, which displayed what appeared to be a white sheet of paper covered in rows of thin black lettering. I turned back towards Screwball, who was helping the man back to his feet. "Sorry about that, Edd! Re-entry into a spatial nexus point gets a tad tricky." Yanking his arm back, the man rubbed it as though he'd been burned. "H-how do you know my name?" The filly shrugged. "It's chaos magic. I don't have to explain it." She then patted his head and looped her foreleg around my own. "We have to get going. I just hope the next leap is the next leap home. Arrivederci!" Swirling cascades of ochreous stardust and eruptions of electric indigo-hued waves zoomed past us, carrying with them a high-pitched humming that almost sounded like speech. Streaks of flashing neon lightning collided with spinning reddish-bronze meteors, shattering them into chunks of metal-infused boulders wrapped in silently-crackling flames. Catching a piece in her bare hoof, Screwball blew on the meteorite and, with a cocky wink, shoved it underneath her propeller beanie, which I only now noticed was practically glued to her head, stubbornly remaining in place during the course of the space-hopping ordeal. Entering some kind of giant, churning wormhole filled with bluish-violet, crimson and orange clouds, we rotated diagonally upward, then downward, through inky, almost living darkness that seemed to grasp at me with slimy tendrils of an unknown quasi-solid material. I clenched my eyelids tightly and awaited whatever horrendous fate lay in store for us next. Wait, that smell... One eye reluctantly peeked through beneath the lid, then the other. I was greeted by the warm sun on my skin and the familiar air of Canterlot spinning in my nose. We had materialized inside of the castle's throne room, appearing between the dais of the Royal Sisters and a rather unnerved-looking earth pony stallion in expensive formal wear. Behind him was a queue of about a hundred other ponies, no doubt citizens waiting in line to bring their issues before the rulers and have them sort it all out. A quartet of guards were pointing their spears at us until Princess Celestia signaled for them to step back, allowing them to relax somewhat as they lowered their weapons. Beside me, Screwball was on her back and swimming lazily through the air. "Ha! You were so scared!" I glared at her. "So what happened to the beach?" Screwball abruptly skidded to a halt, accompanied by a loud screech and the sound of crushing metal and shattering glass. "I...I just changed my mind, okay?!" "Ahem." Princess Celestia remained collected but held a certain fascination behind her gaze. She then turned and politely addressed the room: "Attention everypony, due to unforeseen circumstances, Day Court has been officially adjourned for the day. Thank you all for coming out and I apologize for the inconvenience. Good day to you all." A few groans and even some jeers sounded from the crowd but they all nonetheless obeyed, bowing and making their exit. After a couple of minutes, the three of us, plus the six royal guards-four next to the dais and two at the other end of the hall-were soon alone. "Tell me, Fenrir," Princess Celestia began as she descended the dais. "Who is your friend?" I swallowed and smiled briefly. "This is Screwball, the...daughter of Discord, Your Majesty. He asked me to look after her until two." The princess' jaw dropped, a genuinely amusing moment, if I'm being honest. "Discord has a daughter? I was not aware of this." "Well," I chuckled awkwardly, waving a paw in front of the filly in question. "Here she is." Screwball zipped up to Princess Celestia and excitedly shook her hoof. "Hi, I'm Screwball! I love waffles, baseball, collecting Pretty Petunia Pony dolls and going on trips with my Daddy to explore the furthest reaches of madness and disorder!" "Oh, hello Screwball. Your father left you in Fenrir's care?" Screwball nodded at Princess Celestia. "Uh-huh! Big Brother Fenrir is foalsitting me while Daddy is off having 'adult fun' with Mommy." Yeah, it was weird how Discord referred to me as, "Big Brother Fenrir" rather than the traditional "Uncle" or "Mister" title when introducing one's kid to an adult male friend. I normally would've chalked that up to a pony-based colloquialism but since Discord was the first, and so far, only one to do this, I figured that it was some sort of additional quirk the draconequus had grabbed from his collection of eccentricities. Now Screwball was doing it and although a tad bit weird, it was overall inoffensive and warmed the cockles of my heart to hear it. "That's nice..." Princess Celestia commented. "I think it's code for 'crazy sexy times.'" Brain vomit... Princess Celestia looked slightly taken aback by this. "Oh..." I noticed the vacant throne on the dais. "Where is your sister?" "Um, Luna is resting at the moment. She refused to leave Tyr's side so I had to lace her tea with some essence of blue-shade lotus." My hackles raised slightly. "You drugged her?" "That's hardcore," Screwball murmured beside me. "She was barely sleeping and neglecting her duties," Princess Celestia responded almost defensively. "I tried to reason with her but Luna was being exceptionally stubborn. This whole business with Tyr has become an obsession." Measuring my next comment wisely, I licked my lips and looked her squarely in her pink eyes. "Yes, I agree that Luna's become a tad zealous as of late...but don't you think drugging her is going a bit far? I mean, she's already stressed out enough as it is. Just think what'll happen once she figures out what you did." Princess Celestia's face became a stone wall. "I am only trying to help my little sister and keep my kingdom running as best as I can. Once I explain it to her, I'm certain that Luna will understand." Yeesh, you sound just like Odin. "In the meantime," Princess Celestia stated in her usual poised and soft tone. "You will continue to watch over Screwball on the condition that you both remain within the castle. Am I understood?" "Yes, Your Majesty," I agreed. "Aye-aye, Captain!" Screwball saluted. "You will find your friends in the recreation room. I would suggest you head there," Princess Celestia advised, though it was clear she meant it as an order rather than a suggestion. "Thank you," I bowed once again and, magically yanking Screwball off of the dais, proceeded to pass through the throne room doors with the kicking filly in tow. ~*~ "I could teleport us there. We don't have to walk," Screwball groused in my ear. Without pausing, I glanced over my shoulder towards the filly sitting on my back. "I'd rather walk. I'm not in any particular mood to be sent to a world of rabid vampire-jackalopes or lost inside of a realm consisting of giant carnivorous mushrooms." "Hey, giant carnivorous mushrooms have feelings too!" Ignoring the comment, I hung a right and continued down yet another immense hallway, this one lined with portraits of various sizes, each one depicting some kind of aristocrat, monarch or royal official. There was a muttonchops-wearing pegasus, whom the little gold plate at the bottom of the frame informed me was General Firefly, the founder of the Wonderbolts. Next to him was a golden-brown dragoness with a short, pointed snout, two large backward-sweeping horns and a crooked, toothy grin, the Bloodstone Scepter in one clawed hand and a trio of identical baby dragons huddled around her. This was Vermithrax Pejorative, who was famous for killing Scatha the Flightless by digging a hidden hole, lining it with sharp rocks and shoving him into it, thus becoming the very first female Dragon Lord in the process. She was eventually slain in a confrontation with Balerion, an especially large and cruel drake that stole her hoard and devoured two of her children, with the third one Smaug escaping and avenging his family's death by crushing Balerion in a rock slide. I recognized Princess Amore, the alicorn from Princess Luna's memory, broadly beaming with the Crystal Heart floating in the background and a young unicorn colt beside her in the foreground. The colt, presumably her son, was not a crystal pony but instead a gray unicorn with a black wavy mane and deep-set green eyes, a ghost of a smile decorating his thin features and a kind of unidentifiable sorrow held within his haunted gaze. I shuddered and peered down at the bottom of the gilded brass picture frame. There was no name plate for the colt so I couldn't identify him and wondered what made him appear so despondent. Perhaps Celestia or Luna could tell me who the mystery colt was and why he appeared to be so spooked in the portrait with his mother. "Do you mind if I sing a song?" Screwball asked hopefully. "Yes." Despite this, she decided to sing anyway: "Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo. I...love...yoooou! Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo. I...love...yooou! I love you in the mor-ning, And in the af-ter-noon. I love you in the eve-ning, And un-der-neath the moon! Oh, skidamarink a dink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo. I...love...yoooou!" This continued on for the next five minutes so you can imagine my elation when we arrived at a giant red oak door. Seizing the pony head-shaped doorknob, I turned it with my magic and entered. The recreation room was a huge, square chamber with a high ceiling and four rectangular wooden beams standing near each corner and was divided into two halves, the left side painted white with suns, birds, and butterflies, and the right side a dark blue and decorated with stars, comets and moons. The day side included features such as a rock climbing wall and indoor combination tennis-slash-badminton field against the far left wall, the latter of which was bordered by a small chain-link fence polished to a shimmering shine. I also spotted a collapsible ping pong table, billiard table, a Power Ponies pinball machine, and a round oak table stacked high with an assortment of board games. Everything was spic and span, the equipment spotless and the floors gleaming with constant maintenance. Yep, this was definitely designed by, and built for, a fun-loving social butterfly like Princess Celestia and those she spent her time with. As for the night side of the chamber, it was a little more sparse and slightly dusty, consisting of equipment that might be seen as a bit more eclectic, though considering the quasi-solitary mare for whom it was constructed for, I was not at all surprised by this. Six wooden boards hung from chains in front of the furthest right wall, each one painted with a crude red bull's-eye and had several axes protruding from their semi-splintered surfaces. Next to this were two round foam targets situated atop three legs and were pierced by randomly-arranged arrows, a rack of recurve bows and a large, tall bucket of arrows positioned nearby. Judging by the fresh wood chips and foam shreds, it was clear that the Lunar Princess saw to it that her side of the room was used daily and to great effect. Lastly, a simple sack toss board rounded out the collection, little fabric bean bags with snarling faces drawn on them scattered atop and around the dark blue board. The whoops and cheers emanating from the opposite wall facing me drew my attention. Princess Celestia, as it turns out, has her own bowling alley and judging by my friends' high-hoof's and laughter, was quite entertaining. With the exception of Twilight and Rarity, everyone was gathered here and enjoying themselves. I cleared my throat and gave them a teasing simper. "Do you have room for two more?" "Hi Fen! Good to see that yer up an' about," Applejack greeted me. "Did you sleep well?" Fluttershy inquired sweetly. "Eh, more or less. Where are Rarity and Twilight?" Rainbow gave a half-shrug. "Rarity had a meeting with some fashion ponies or whatever and Twilight's back in the Royal Archives looking for answers about Tyr's condition." "Oh okay. Listen, I want to introduce you all to somepony." They then became aware of my teeny-weeny passenger. "Who's this?" Pinkie inquired curiously. Before I could answer, Screwball was in Fluttershy's face, shaking the pegasus' hoof enough to lift her off of the glistening hardwood floor. "Hi, I'm Screwball! Discord's my daddy but I'm sure you already know who he is." She quickly went down the line, introducing herself to each and every one of the group. "Wait an apple-picking second!" Applejack interjected once her eyes stopped rattling around. "Yer Discord's kid? Since when in th' Wide World of Equestria does Discord have a daughter?" "And where have you been all this time?" Rainbow Dash added incredulously. Pinkie Pie pointed up at Screwball's beanie. "And where did you get that hat?" "Since..." Screwball pulled an alarm clock (out of somewhere) and glanced at it, the face decorated with a cartoon mouse wearing red shorts, his arms serving as the minute and hour hands. "Seven and a half years, twenty-six minutes and fourteen seconds ago. Give or take." Spike pointed a forefinger up. "Wait, how does that work? Discord was briefly released for about a day three years ago, then we let him out and he's been with us for about two." "When Mommy got pregnant, he knew that the princesses would find out about me so he sent Mommy back in time and she raised me until Daddy thought it was safe for us to return." Fluttershy placed a wing around Screwball and pulled her close. "Well, I'm glad that you're here. Welcome to Canterlot, Screwball." "Discord popped by to drop her off," I elaborated. "He asked me to watch her until two p.m." "Why you?" I turned to Fluttershy. "Because I owed him a favor. He kept my secret before I was forced to tell all of you, plus he saved my life. I have to square my debt with him and this is how." Screwball wrapped her forelegs around my head and crushed me against her tiny chest. "Daddy thought some time with Big Brother Fen would be great for my 'soo-shell dee-veal-meat.'" "I think you mean, 'social development,' Fluttershy corrected gently. Spike had his arms crossed akimbo, his head slightly tilted. "'Big Brother Fen'?" "Don't ask," I retorted sotto voce. "Just like with Pinkie, I try not to question anything that has to do with Discord." Spike stuck up a thumb. "Wise choice, dude." "Well, erm, would you like to join us, Screwball?" Fluttershy politely offered. "It's still early into this frame so we can start over." "Awesome!" I'd heard of bowling, of course, the game being quite popular amongst ponies but there had yet been an occasion in which I could play the game as well. There was a stallion back in Ponyville, lovingly referred to by the moniker of "The Dude," who I got into a conversation with while running an errand for Fluttershy. Addressing me as "El Lobo", he proceeded to explain the basics of the game while a mustachioed earth pony bought me a sarsaparilla, the ins and outs of bowling becoming quite easy to comprehend as he was expounding the details. Then the Dude went off topic and began discussing a recent experience involving a kidnapping, nihilists, a casual fling with a rich mare and a rug that "really tied the room together." I mean, sure I was a bit bored by the end of the story but the Dude later purchased me a big rib eye steak for being such a "good boy" so it was a total win in my book. I had the chance to read over the scoreboard before it was wiped. So far, the best player was Pinkie Pie, easily dominating the others and, might I add, with no apparent usage of her strange, fantastical powers. Next was Applejack, who had a rather strong serve and it was clear that her hindlegs weren't the only source of her amazing strength. Following them was Spike, the dragon not allowing his shorter stature to inhibit his abilities, instead utilizing his dexterity to earn his spot in third. Fluttershy, as was to be expected of somepony so passive and gentle, tenderly rolled her ball as if she were afraid of hurting it, the pink orb eventually making its way to the pins and knocking three of them over. That just left- "Buck me sideways with a chainsaw!" Yeah, as it just so happens, Rainbow Dash is an abysmal bowler. Not only does she charge in half-cocked with no thought as to ball-to-pin alignment but she also is of the mindset that she'll obtain an easy strike if she lobs the gosh-darn ball as hard as she can. This had apparently led to ten consecutive gutter balls and a slew of swear words that'd make a Dwarven bartender blush and accuse her of having a swamp-mouth. Fluttershy merely glared at her friends' colorful vocabulary, clamping her hooves over Spike's ears to protect the youth and defend his innocence. "Okily-dokily, you're up, Fen!" Pinkie Pie informed me. "Good luck, Fen," Fluttershy said softly. I selected the biggest, heaviest ball I could find, a blackish-purple ball the size of a pumpkin, and turned it over with my magic, finding a yellow-white skull with fiery eyes painted on the front. Taking a breath, I broke out in a light jog, lining up the shot and releasing my ball. It rolled down the polished wooden lane and curved slightly to the left, smacking the first three as well as knocking over three in the back. For my first time, it was actually a good hit. "Nice hit, Sugarcube!" "Way to go, dude!" "Coo-el!" "Whoo-hoo!" Rainbow Dash was unimpressed. "Eh, beginner's luck." I rewarded her remark with a little side-glare, which she reacted to with a dung-eating smirk. It appeared as though I had a rival in this competition and thus motivation to win, or at the very least beat the polychromatic-maned pegasus. The pinsetter set the pearly white pins back up in a perpendicular line as the ball return supplied me with the ammunition to take out the survivors. I had six points; just four pins waited for me to knock them down. Taking aim, I charged forward and tossed the ball, the black sphere barreling towards the helpless pins with all of the speed of a- PWOOF! The bowling ball exploded in a flurry of confetti, little dark pink, purple and white scraps of cut paper littering the lane like snowflakes. All eyes turned towards Screwball, who was whistling innocuously. "What? Oh sure, blame the filly," she glowered in mock-indignation. "Screwball..." Screwball glanced at me nonchalantly. "I mean, random confetti-fication happens all the time." "'Confetti-fication'? Even I know that's not a real thing," Pinkie snorted with a hoof-wave. "Sure it does. It usually happens when...sweet Groucho's ghost, what's that?!" On instinct, we all spun around to catch a glimpse of the supposed disturbance. PWOOF! "EEP!" Rainbow rubbed her sore rump, the chair underneath her now a pile of confetti. Screwball let out an exaggerated gasp. "You see? Just like that...PWOOF!" Fluttershy shook her head in disappointment. "Now Screwball, it isn't nice to turn things into confetti," she lightly admonished. "Especially when ponies are in the middle of a game." Floating down to the floor, Screwball plopped down onto her limbs and stared down at her hooves in dejection. She then lifted her head, her eyes widened and bottom lip quivering. "I'm sorry, everypony. I was just joking around. I didn't mean to make you guys upset." Feeling rather sympathetic, I nudged her chin with my snout. "As long as you promise not to do it again, we'll let it slide and continue the game." Screwball rubbed her nose with a foreleg and sniffled. "Really?" "Really. Just no more cheating, okay?" I was abruptly snatched up and enveloped in the hardest hug that I'd ever received thus far. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best big brother ever!" "That's great...can you put me back down on the ground?" Once I returned to terra firma, a ball identical to the one I had before on the floor in front of me. I picked it up, scanned the row of pins and sent the ball flying, clocking all four pins and earning myself a spare. "Nice," Spike grinned and gave me a high-five. "Good work," Fluttershy smiled. "Looks like it's your turn, Scr-" Screwball had adopted a serious expression, which was surprising to me, and conjured her own dark gray and yellow-spotted bowling ball. Popping her hoof in her mouth, she then held the saliva-covered limb above her head as if testing the air current, giving a pleased hum at the results. She gripped the ball out in front of her and then moved it closer to her face, repeating the motion three more times, calling to mind a sailor using a sunstone. Scanning the lane with a critical glance, Screwball eyed the pins with complete and utter concentration while remaining completely motionless. This continued for a few minutes until she abruptly broke into a run. "ROY MUNSON!" The ball sped down the lane and crashed into the pins, scattering all of them. "Huh, the filly can bowl," I muttered. "Who could've seen that coming?" Screwball heard my comment and turned, her grin stretching ear to ear. "Mommy's a really big fan so I was bowling before I could walk." Wow, no kidding! Following Screwball's successful strike, the game really gained momentum, turning into an epic competition that shook the very foundation of the castle. Okay, so it was just a bowling match but it was still quite thrilling. True to her word, Screwball didn't do anything underhanded, being too swept up in the excitement of the sport to consider dirty tactics. She had a personal rivalry with Pinkie, a match-up to be expected, whereas Applejack and I were going head-to-head to see who could rack up more points. We both realized that we didn't have even an iota of a chance of competing with the two but we could at the very least vie for the third place spot. We were into the third round, or "frame" when hunger (lower case "H") reared its annoying head. "Whew, I could go fer some hay fries right 'bout now." "No kidding, AJ," Spike agreed with a forehead swipe. "I'm hungry," Screwball declared. "Ooh! Let's have waffles!" Come to think of it, I was feeling pretty peckish myself. "I'm sure the chefs can whip up-..." POOF! Everything began to rumble, the walls groaning in protest as the sound of thunder boomed within the confines of the room, the temperature steadily dropping a few degrees. My fur stood on end, as though the hairs were readying themselves in anticipation of a massive rainstorm. Something small and fluffy hit the top of my head and flopped to the linoleum floor, bouncing once and briefly spinning on its rim before rolling to a complete stop. It was...a pancake? Before long, a deluge of pancakes buffeted my head and, seizing Fluttershy by the scruff of her neck, I scampered underneath the board game table to avoid the oncoming flurry of flapjacks. "Run for your lives!" Pinkie screamed and sought shelter beneath the billiard table with Rainbow Dash in tow. The rec room speedily filled up with golden-brown discs, so much so that it necessitated kicking and tearing my way through the flat cake flash-flood. Bursting through the surface of the pancake pond, my head emerged to steal gasps of precious oxygen and hoist both Fluttershy and myself into the tabletop. Applejack and Spike climbed onto the pinball machine, though it toppled over and sent them both hurtling into a haphazardly stacked pancake pile, partially burying them both. Up on the billiard table, Pinkie shielded herself with an umbrella while Rainbow, with a ping pong paddle in each wing, swatted away the delicious debris falling from the ceiling. All throughout the breakfast-related bedlam, one solitary thought invaded my mind as the storm raged on: "Why do I bother getting out of bed in the morning?" Mercifully, the buttermilk barrage had finally ended, allowing us to survey the mess that had been left in its wake. From wall to wall, the hotcake hurricane had left behind a "lake" in the wake of its brief but powerful path of scrumptious destruction, the piles ranging from three to six-feet-deep. Tentatively, we all descended our perches and waded through the griddle cake lake, Rainbow Dash helping Applejack to her hooves while I dug Spike out of his prison and gently pulled him up with my teeth. The little drake was covered in crumbs and batter-chunks but still somehow retained his dignity, giving me an appreciative knuckle-touch and dusting himself off. I searched around for the architect of the mayhem and soon spotted her, half-expecting the pint-sized prankster to be doing some sort of victory dance. Screwball sat upon a hill of pancakes and in spite of the chaos she'd caused, looked rather dejected. "Not again! Whenever I want waffles, I summon pancakes instead!" Petulantly kicking a short stack aside, she crossed her forelegs and shoved her bottom lip out. "Everypony knows waffles are better than pancakes!" Screwball mumble-whined to herself, her eyes beginning to moisten with self-pitying tears. "What's wrong with me?" Clawing my way out of the pancakes, I observed the filly currently moping where the archery range used to sit. No longer viewing her as Discord's offspring, I instead thought of her as just a regular foal, one with an extraordinary gift and a simple desire to use it in a way to garner praise and attention. Although clearly a powerful and unpredictable entity with the capability of bending the world to her whim, Screwball was still essentially a child and was more susceptible to despondency. I awkwardly wobbled over to the disheartened filly, almost managing to lose my balance a few times due to the nature of the soft but insecure terrain. She turned towards me and sniffled loudly. "I'm sorry," She murmured through quivering lips. "I promised you waffles and instead gave you stupid pancakes! I ruined everything. Daddy would be really disappointed." I sat right next to her and placed my tail around her waist. "No he wouldn't. Sure, it wasn't what you wanted but you still literally made it rain pancakes. That's pretty amazing in my book." A light smile touched Screwball's lips. "R-really? You liked it?" "I did. And think of it this way: you wished for waffles and got pancakes instead, subverting your own expectations. I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty chaotic to me. Plus, imagine how frustrated the castle staff are going to be when they learn that they have to clean up this mess." To my contentment, Screwball giggled mischievously. "Yeah, they are going to hate this," she chirped merrily. "I know I would. Sometimes Mommy makes me pick up my toys and I don't like that." "You see?" I chuckled, giving her shoulder a gentle bump. "I think your Daddy would be very proud of what you did here." Screwball snickered and flashed me her pearly whites. "Thanks, Fen." I cocked my head at this. "Don't you mean, 'Big Brother Fen'?" "Thanks, Big Brother Fen," she snorted and hugged me tightly. I rested my chin atop her head and sighed. "By the way," Screwball added quietly. "I'm...not good at teleporting." "You don't say." "It's just...it's okay if it's me or small stuff but it gets tricky when I try other living beings." Nodding comprehensively, I half-joked, "So that's why I ended up in the Nightmare Corpse-City?" "Eeyep. I mean, at least it wasn't somewhere boring like the Dragon Lands or Pittsburgh." I chuckled and admitted, "Not to mention I had a literal near-Death experience." AND I HAD A NEAR-FENRIR EXPERIENCE... That dampened the mood somewhat. ~*~ We all gathered around the extended table in the dining hall once more, the atmosphere cheerful and merry as we gabbed and joked. Princess Celestia was incredibly calm about the whole filling-up-her-recreation-room-with-pancakes debacle, even having a bit of a laugh at hearing the news and immediately sent for a cleaning crew to sort out the mess. She elected to give the leftovers to her staff and henceforth declared that one day every month would be Free Pancake Day, later amending it to Free Breakfast Day with some input from Screwball. Who knew that the degenerate spawn of Discord and the Princess of the Sun could get along so well? Of course, I needn't tell you, my faithful readers, that life is indeed strange and wondrous. I was seated between Fluttershy and Screwball, steaming, syrup-covered waffles stacked upon our porcelain plates. No, they weren't conjured by Screwball, who had to be talked down from attempting such a feat but instead, the food was supplied by the castle's chefs. It was unanimously agreed to be the wiser of the two options. Screwball, by her own admission, had never dined with a group of friends before and enjoyed the experience immensely, for which I was grateful. Although she didn't say as much, I intuitively came to the conclusion that she lived a rather lonely, sheltered life. Pinkie Pie began relating a funny story about her sister, who on top of being something called a "geologist," was also an amateur stand-up comedienne as well. "So then Maud looked at the hay fry vendor and said, 'No thanks, I lost my apatite.' HA HA HA!" Pounding a hoof on the tabletop, Pinkie Pie let loose a wild cackle at her retelling, something that only garnered a few half-hearted chuckles from everyone else, with the exception of Twilight, who snort-giggled at this. It was nice to have the whole gang back together again. In lieu of waffles, Rarity chose a plate of blueberry scones and a glass of soy milk, saying something about watching her figure and keeping an eye on the equipment that "pays half the bills." I mean, personally, I think she could afford to put some meat on her bones. Not that I'd ever say that out loud, obviously. "Tell me, Twilight, did you find anything of note in the archives?" Stopping in mid-bite of her waffle, Twilight realized that Princess Celestia had been addressing her. Taking a minute to swallow and wipe her mouth with a napkin, she nodded slightly. "I think I might be on the right track. I was perusing a book on obscure hexes and maladies by Dr. Woodrow Evertrot, in which he described a series of cases occurring in Trotland in 1867 ECE where several townsponies had fallen into 'senseless stupors' despite all of them being in perfect health. After consulting with some of the best medical practitioners at the time, he was directed to Professor Van Helsire, a specialist in metaphysics and parapsychology and an adherent to the work of Mooncurve the Cunning, a unicorn mage that specialized in hexes and mystical ailments. He was a very controversial figure due to his usage of necromancy and conjuration of agathodemons, or familiar spirits, to aid him. In fact, Mooncurve was actually the one that developed the spiritus custos spell and used it to defeat the infamous Wraith-King of Umberfoal in 1276 PECE, an epic battle that took place over the span of three days-..." "Twilight, yer babblin'...again." "Right, sorry AJ. Anyway, Dr. Evertrot writes that upon examining the patients, Van Helsire diagnosed the townsponies as suffering from something called, 'oneirocentric caruskoma'. It appears to be some sort of magic-based sleep employed by witches and warlocks that drains the victims of their vitality and transfers the life force energy back to the spell-caster, usually with the aim of performing an even more powerful spell. With the aid of some mages, the professor tracked down the perpetrator, who was a local widow and outcast that was trying to resurrect her late husband and two daughters." "So..." I began somewhat dubiously. "A witch is trying to...steal Tyr's life force?" "I, well, I mean, it's-it's a start?" "Don't worry, Fenrir," Princess Celestia interjected sedately. "I'm positive that if anypony can unravel this mystery, Twilight can." "Yeah, Twilight's awesome at figuring stuff out," Spike attempted through a mouthful, swallowing and covering his mouth in embarrassment. "Oops, sorry." "So tell me, Screwball," Rarity began. "Who is your mother exactly?" Whoever this mare was had to be quite extraordinary. Only somepony with a massive degree of eccentricity and a wacky sense of humor could both put up with Discord's nonsense as well as maintain his attention. "Only the greatest person in the world!" Screwball called out, both forelimbs shooting for the sky. "Other than Daddy, of course. Her name is Mischief Maker, though she prefers to be called 'Missy,' and owns a joke shop in Manehattan called the 'Yuck-Yuck Hut.'" "Hey, I know that place!" Pinkie exclaimed. "That's where I bought my first joy buzzer and whoopee cushion! They have the best novelty items and pranking equipment." "'If it's not Yuck-Yuck, then you're out of luck-luck!'" Screwball and Pinkie cheered simultaneously, breaking into laughter and high-hoofing. "Yuck-Yucksters for life!" White sparkles appeared and there was an acromatic flash before proceeding to vanish just as quickly. "Hey there, hi there, ho there!" Discord greeted with a manic wave. "Did you miss me?" Beside him was an earth pony mare with a pale bluish gray coat with white splotches on her right cheek, the tip of her muzzle, her front hindlegs and left flank, presumably some sort of skin condition or a collection of birth marks. Her mane was a dark forest green with raspberry and reddish-pink streaks interwoven like a big spiral lollipop. She wore a large orange and red-spotted bow tie, a red and white striped undershirt, and a plum-colored lapel-less vest, a big plastic sunflower poking out her right breast pocket. It took a minute but I managed to work out that her cutie mark was a cracked comedy mask. The mare smelled of salt-water taffy and cheap plastic. "Mommy! Daddy!" Screwball zipped across the room and embraced her parents. "Did you have a good time, my little abomination?" "I did, Daddy, so much! Big Brother Fen is great and so are his friends!" "I'm so glad to hear that, Screwy!" Mischief Maker cheered in a high-pitched squeal and turned to the group. "Hi, I'm Mischief Maker but please call me 'Missy.' Everypony does!" Pinkie gasped and almost immediately wound up next to her. "Missy, I am such a big fan! The Yuk-Yuk Hut is literally where I buy my joke and party supplies!" "Why thank you so much! It always warms my heart to meet a fellow Yuckster!" Her vibrant spring green eyes landed on me. "And you must be Fenrir! Thank you so much for looking after Screwy! My little bobblehead was so thrilled when she found out she was coming here. You must foalsit her again sometime!" Missy put a forearm around Screwball, who then looked at me with hopeful optimism shining in her spiral peepers. "I'd love to. Little Sister Screwy can come see me anytime." "Great! How does the rest of the day sound?" Discord pondered jubilantly. Buck me... "Pfft, relax, F-Dawg! I'm only joking!" Missy giggled, her eyes shimmering playfully. "You were right, Dissy," she grinned with a slight squint. "He really needs to develop a sense of humor."