CHOICE AND CAUSALITY—PART I
Dragons. Big, scary, nasty, evil dragons. Dragons all around her, with their sharp claws and their predatory eyes and their rotten breath and their teeth. Their teeth. Teeth that bite. Teeth that rip and gnash and shine with hungry spit. Teeth that menace her, coming closer to her muzzle, making her wince and cry out with every fine snap!
"Please, I'm sorry! I don't want to—"
Snap!
"AH—I'm sorry! I'll do anything, just please don't—"
Snap!
"No! Anything! Anything, please—"
Snap!
"Please! No, PLEA—"
SNAP!
He tore away from the diamond and clutched at his heart. It thumped painfully against his chest. Fear filled his body, flooding his lungs like ice-water, ripping through his mind like a hot swarm of locusts. He took several slow, shaky breaths. The buzzing in his skull quelled, though his lungs still spasmed and his heart still raced. He looked at the diamond hanging before him.
It was massive.
Without a doubt, it was the largest diamond he'd seen so far. The sharpest too, so jagged it could draw blood at the gentlest touch. Everything about it was rare and dangerous, but the thing that made this diamond truly unique had nothing to do with its size or shape. This diamond had an especially frightening quality, one that few others possessed:
A twin.
Like cancerous lungs, the diamonds hung opposite one-another, matching each-other in every visible way. The memories inside of the diamonds were the same too; from the shrillness of the filly's cry to the last sharp of those bloody teeth, nothing was different.
Nothing but the emotions.
The diamond on the right held fear, plain as day. It was a deep, primal fear, a fear that should accompany any memory as horrifying as the one he'd just watched. But the diamond on the left—the one he'd touched first—had other contents. There was resentment, anger, a doubtful pinch, waves of sick compulsion, and the tiniest hint of guilt. And something else.
If he squinted his eyes and leaned as close to the diamond as possible, he could see a flaw in its crystalline form: one black spot. It was as small as a grain of salt, but even so... he felt something. A presence. It was strong and old and deep, more so than any emotion. He could hear it whisper:
"Touch me," it said. "Touch me so I can hurt you. Touch me so I can show you what I'm made of. I built the oldest part of your mind, the part you never want to look at but always want to use. I built my sister, too; she dragged herself out of the womb, kicking and screaming, floundering under my light.
"I'm that sweet taste that hangs on your lips whenever you lie. I'm what makes the strong hate the weak and the young resent the old. I'm the green in your eyes, the blue in your core, the red on the edge of the knife in your back that you can't seem to reach on your own. I am everything you have ever hated to love.
"I am Fire.
"So tell me, child: you think you've got chaos in you? You think you know what pain is? Then touch me. Touch me so I can hurt you. Touch me so I can show you what I'm made of."
Snap!
With a flick of her tail, Applejack swatted down one of the horse flies that had been hovering around her all morning. The insects of Goluboy-Pero Forest were a pestilence, far more aggressive than any bugs she'd encountered in Equestria, and it took a grave toll on her sanity.
"If I've told you once, Miss Applejack, I've told you a thousand times: you're not scaling the recipe right!"
That was, of course, in addition to several other things.
"And if I've told you once," Applejack said, whisking the contents of her mixing bowl with cyclonic fury, "I've told you a thousand times: I know how to work my own gosh-darn recipe. I've scaled this mix up to feed a whole entire town before and I ain't never gotten no complaints from nopony, so I think I can cook for twelve." She dropped the whisk and tipped her hat to wipe the sweat off her brow—it was a scorcher, even for July. Perfect weather for bugs of all sorts.
"Applejack, let's be reasonable." Flam leaned against the side of the carriage and magically fanned himself with his hat. "You could barely figure out how to turn on the griddle, and it was specifically designed to be as easy to use as possible. How in the world do you expect me to trust you with multiplication?"
Or with the oven. Or the countertop, or the locks, or any other part of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six-Thousand-and... Two, was it now? Either way, the vehicle's pop-out "food-preparation station" was the only kitchen for two-hundred-fifty miles. And either way, Flam would hover over Applejack's shoulder for as long as she used it.
"Oh, but how could I forget!" Flam said, his voice dripping with sticky sardonicism. "You're the Spirit of Honesty. A paragon of virtue. The stuff of bedtime stories and charity photo-ops." He sauntered over and rested his elbows on the countertop, wrapping himself around her with his words. "I can trust you with anything, can't I?"
"But Applejack's pancakes are always amazing, Flam!" Pinkie Pie dropped a stack of dishes on the picnic table—another one of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy's pop-out components—and bounded over the carriage. "They're light and fluffy and moist and chewy and extra-super-mega-dee-duperly scrumptious in every way! And the best part is, they're just as good every time! She's honest and dependable!"
Applejack looked away without meaning to.
Nopony else knew about Prince Blueblood's lie of omission, but the reminders picked at her conscience all the same. Whenever Applejack looked at her friends, she felt the truth bang against the walls of her heart, screaming for release. When she looked at Blueblood or his vanishing guardpony, she felt a rage hotter than the summer sun.
"Feh. One little hick town gives her business, and her friends think she's three-star Michelin material." Flam's eyes gave an exaggerated roll. He put his hat back on his head, tilted it to the side, and spoke in a thick frontier drawl: "Hey e'rrypony, guess what! Ponyville likes mah cookin'! That's right, the whole entire town o' Ponyville! Next thang ya know, Ah'll be makin' mah pancakes fer Princess Celes'cha herself!"
Applejack clenched her mixing spoon in her hoof so tightly, her foreleg cramped up. A bit of sunny rage was coming on. "If I ain't mistaken," she said, sweating into the pancake mix, "one li'l hick town's better'n ya'll ever did. Beides, I don't have to take this from a pony who puts rocks n' dirt in his apple cider."
"Yeah, your cider was pretty gross," Pinkie said. "And it wasn't just because of the rocks and dirt either. Your cider had all sorts of yucky stuff in it! Like twigs and leaves and grass and pebbles and feathers and chunks of fur and—"
"Cider competition notwithstanding," Flam snapped, fanning himself again, "I know bad cooking when I see it, and mixing that much flour with only one teaspoon of baking powder is bad cooking, plain and simple! Mark my words, missey: what you've got there is a recipe. For. Disaster."
"That right?" Applejack grabbed a measuring cup, scooped out some batter, and plopped several dollops onto the griddle. The sizzling batter smelled stronger than usual. Sweeter. "Well, whoopsie-daisy. Looks like we're havin' disaster for breakfast."
Flam fanned his hat like a turbine. He opened his mouth to let out a rebuke, but Pinkie Pie cut in front of him before he could get a word in. "Don't let Mister Grumpy-Lump get you down, Applejack!" she said, bouncing on every syllable. "These pancakes are gonna make Twilight feel much better, no matter how disaster-ey they turn out! Besides"—she hooked her foreleg around Applejack's shoulder and pulled her into a conspiratorial grip—"after what happened yesterday, I don't think we could possibly do anything to make her feel worse."
Applejack swallowed.
"Golly, though. Can you even imagine?" Pinkie grimaced with her entire body. "I mean, we're all friends with Princess Celestia, but Twilight knows her better than any of us combined. And Princess Cadance was her first friend ever! So that's two of her most special friends in the whole wide world, and they're both..." Her lips trembled. "Aw, now I'm gonna start crying!"
It was true: everyone was worried about the princesses, both as citizens and as friends, but Twilight was closer to the royal family than any of them. Applejack couldn't understand why she refused to grieve; you can't deal with loss by shutting yourself away from the ponies who care about you.
Maybe if everypony pitched in to make Twilight something special—to show her they understood what she was going through and were willing to help her through it—she would open up to them. The most special thing Applejack could do was cook a good meal, so that's what she did. Pinkie Pie set the table, RD cleared the skies above, Rarity went to the meadows to pick a breakfast bouquet, and Fluttershy followed her there to make sure she didn't get eaten by wild animals. It was shaping up to be another one of those great bonding experiences they'd been having every week or so for the past two years. And if Applejack managed to assuage some of her guilt in the process, well... who said ulterior motives were a bad thing?
"Oh, and then she wouldn't let us talk to her about it at all!" Pinkie sniffled. "Six hours of driving, and I don't think anypony said a word the whole way! It was awful!"
"Pinkie Pie..." Applejack wrangled herself out from under Pinkie's elbow and gave her a look of heavy-eyed sympathy. "Why don't you, uh... Why don't you head on down to the tent and make sure Twilight's still sleepin'?"
Pinkie Pie hiccupped through her tears. "B-But I haven't finished setting the table yet."
"I'll finish settin' it for you. 'Sides, Twilight could wake at up any moment. You don't want her to ruin her own surprise party, do you?" Applejack turned her head towards the tent and cupped her ear in mock vigilance. "Why, it sounds like Twilight's stirrin' herself awake right now! You best get over there before she finds us out, sugarcube."
Pinkie Pie leapt into the air with a ferocious gasp and sprinted to the other end of the campsite. She nearly ripped the tent apart while making her way inside; the noise carried all the way across the campsite, to Applejack's cringing horror.
The tent was Rarity's: a grand, purple castle that quivered with all the soft whisperings of a hurricane every time somepony opened the door-flaps or brushed the sides. For a moment, Applejack was sure sending Pinkie to keep Twilight in bed would be the exact thing that woke her up. Granted, Twilight was a heavy sleeper, but—
Flam coughed. "Good riddance."
Applejack turned to scowl at Flam, just in time to watch him pull a silver comb from his breast pocket. "I don't know how you can stand to be around a pony like that. I tell you, if she were any more annoying, they'd give her a radio show." He groomed the sweat out of his moustache with a practiced grace, simultaneously breezing himself with his hat. "And she's so distractible, too! Yesterday, when Flim and I were blueprinting the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy Six-Thousand-and-Two, we tried to ask her if she might have any helium to spare for the—"
"Aw, give it a rest Flam." Applejack returned her focus to the griddle. She grabbed a spatula and flipped each pancake, listening to the sizzle of the batter, watching the sweet, smoky apple scent rise with the steam. She let out an exhausted laugh. "You n' your brother ain't the world's most pleasant ponies neither, y'know. Ya'll keep criticizin' my cookin' the way you do, and—well, this here spatula ain't just for flippin' hotcakes, let me tell you."
"To be fair, your cooking is rather easy to criticize," Flam said between delicate swipes of his comb. "The way you flounder about that griddle, I have to wonder if you've ever seen a kitchen in your whole life."
Applejack heard a familiar buzzing in her ear. The horse flies had returned, likely drawn in by the smell of the pancakes. "I know my way around a kitchen, Flam," she said, shaking her head to dissuade the insects. "I been cookin' since before gradeschool, I know my stuff pretty darn well. And if ya'll hate me so much, why'd you n' Flim let me use your kitchen in the first—"
Flam cut Applejack off with a long, ugly laugh. Again, her hoof cramped around the whisk. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, just... trying to imagine you in school." Flam wiped away the tears in his eyes, then trotted a few steps out of Applejack's swinging range. "Anyway, you can thank Prince Blueblood for the use of our kitchen. I doubt he'll pay my brother and I in full unless we do everything you so-called Spirits of Harmony tell us."
"Is that so?" Applejack scowled across the campsite at the sterling fortress that was Blueblood's tent—a similar design to Rarity's, but with a forest-green pattern. Even though the tent's occupant had now done her two favors—the first being the removal of Flim—she still boiled with resentment at the drop of his name.
If that lousy Prince Blueblood really did want to help me out, he'd tell Flim n' Flam to leave me be. 'Cept they already have to do everything I say, so... Hey, wait a sec!
Applejack shot Flam a hostile glare. "If ya'll have to do everything I say, how come you won't leave me be?"
Flam put his hat back on his head, then spoke with an extra dose of assurance in his voice. "I'm only here for your own sake, Miss Applejack. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy is an extremely delicate piece of machinery, far from user-friendly. Why, if I left you to your own devices—"
"Now you just hold on for one minute!" Applejack shut off the griddle, threw down her spatula, and stomped up to Flam with fire in her eyes. "Not two minutes ago, you told me that this here griddle was—and I quote—specifically designed to be as easy to use as possible!"
Flam's comb froze mid-stroke. He stared briefly at Applejack before making a reply. "Well, it's not easy for you to use, is it Miss Applejack?" he asked, chiding her with his comb. "Sure, it was designed to be user-friendly, but there are obviously going to be some ponies who—"
"Aw, shut up!" Applejack swatted the comb out of Flam's magical grasp."I'm gettin' so tired—so darn tired o' you n' your brother actin' like you're the only worthwhile ponies on the face of Equestria!"
Flam gave Applejack a wild-eyed glare. "You want to talk about worth? That comb you just knocked into the dirt was worth twenty bits!"
"Oh, for—" Applejack shoved her face into Flam's, so close she could see the blood in his eyes. "Y'know what your problem is?"
Flam let out a cold, spearmint whicker. "A lack of personal space?"
"No it ain't." Applejack took a step back. "Your problem is, you don't believe in nothin'."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I ain't pardonin' you. A pony like you don't deserve no pardons. A pony like you's gotten so used to hearin' lies and half-truths come outta their own mouth, they're hearin' 'em from everypony they meet." She gave his forehead a few tough knocks with her hoof. "Every word passin' through that thick head o' yours just don't ring true. And when everthin' feels like a lie, nopony's worth believin' in.
"Isn't that why you don't want me around your carriage? You don't think I'm tellin' the truth when I say I ain't gonna break nothin'? Well, believe it or not—and I know you won't—I'd go away if you told me to. Yep, I'd leave without more'n a few words of protest, 'cause even though I don't respect you, I understand that your property's your property." Applejack gave Flam's chest a small punch. "But you don't tell me to go away, 'cause you also don't believe Blueblood when he tells you he's gonna pay you. So you sit here pesterin' me, hopin' I'll leave of my own accord, and... and you ain't listenin' to a word I'm sayin' right now, are you?"
With a flash of magic, Flam tugged his comb out of the dirt, giving her a superior smile. "Oh, Applejack. Just when I think you can't possibly be more wrong, you quickly prove otherwise. You see, I do believe in something. In fact, over the course of my life, I've come to believe in four things!"
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and polished the dirt off his comb. "Number one: I the greatest salespony Equestria has ever seen. Number two: I am the greatest chef Equestria has ever seen. Number three: I am the greatest mechanic Equestria has ever seen. And last, but most certainly not least..." He exhaled on the comb before finishing the polish. "My brother is my equal in each and every one of the aforementioned areas of expertise."
Before Applejack could retort, a loud buzzing thing flew into her ear. The noise startled her—she stumbled back into the countertop and banged her funny bone against its corner. Pain filled her leg like hot whisky.
"Yes, I dare say my brother and I are two of the most talented ponies in Equestria," Flam continued. "If there are two ponies I can believe in, those ponies are myself and my brother."
Applejack clutched her elbow and chewed her lip, trying to hold back the storm of curses brewing on her tongue. She looked up with lidded eyes. Flam's comb was finished with his moustache; it now parted his mane, weaving through stripes of hair like a silver louse. Her vision grew blurry—she blinked and pulled her head back. That smarmy, stinking, son-of-a-gun horse fly sat mockingly on the bridge of her nose.
Her head spun. The anger she felt was impossible, so hot and consumptive she thought she was going to cry. All of this this—this pain, this embarrassment, this bubbling, steaming, screaming heat—she earned it. Because even after lying to her friends, she had the gall to preach about trust and forthrightness. It was the worst kind of hypocrisy—she could feel it frothing in her pores. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think.
And there.
There was Flam not three feet away, rutting his ego like he'd taken a bath in silphium. His words clanged against her skull: If there are two ponies I can believe in, those ponies are myself and my brother!
"So basically, you only believe in yourself?"
Flam stopped. For the second time that morning, his comb grew completely still. "Come again?"
"It's somethin' I was gonna say before I realized you weren't listenin' to me." Applejack pulled herself off the ground. She shook her mane, batting the horse fly to the other end of her body. "The only pony you believe in—besides yourself, o' course—is your brother, and that's only 'cause ya'll are pretty much exactly the same."
Flam let out a deep, condescending laugh. "No, Miss Applejack. My brother and I are not exactly the same. Our outward appearances may be similar, but on the inside, we are very different."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Flam. I can see how those sorts o' comments might leave you mite bit frustrated. But my claim weren't based on the way ya'll look. My claim's based on the way ya'll act." Applejack took a few more steps towards Flam. She could feel the horse fly crawling on her hip, just out of her tail's smacking distance. "Ya'll do everything alike, don't cha? Struttin' around in those cute li'l matchin' outfits, makin' like you're the smartest ponies what ever lived. Drivin' together, eatin' together, sleepin' together—same bed too, I'd wager." Flam's face turned red as a brick. "Of course, I'm sure you could name a few ways ya'll aren't completely—"
"I certainly can, you lecherous cretin!" Flam marched up to Applejack with a brisk, determined stride. The wind from his gait blew the horse fly on Applejack's back a little closer to her tail. "There are plenty of ways my brother and I are different. For instance... Erm..."
As Flam paused for thought, a twinge of apprehension shivered through Applejack's mind: This is wrong, idn't? Playin' on a pony's insecurities for a laugh?
Aw, who cares! It's hot, I'm angry, and Flam's been treatin' me like dirt all mornin'. It's about time he got his.
Flam pulled his hat off his head and resumed his fanning. "Well... sometimes I have a hard time keeping my face straight during musical numbers, but Flim doesn't. Which is why I choose to wear a moustache. Hmm... Also, Flim enjoys being outdoors during the winter months—he always lets his coat grow out more. And, ah..."
Applejack raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And—Eh, let's see... Oh! Flim doesn't like the way his mane tickles his forehead, so he uses more mousse than I do. So there's that."
"Gee, Flam,"—Applejack took a few laughing steps forward—"I didn't know hairstyle was such an important personality trait."
"You don't—I didn't mean—" Flam fanned himself so hard, Applejack thought the hat would burst into flame. "Just shut up and finish cooking your stupid pancakes, would you? The faster you get this done, the faster I can kick you out of my kitchen!"
"You can't cook pancakes with denial, Flam."
"Well, you can't cook pancakes with stupidity either, but that's not stopping—"
"Flam, I'm back." Applejack and Flam both turned to see Flim trotting out of Blueblood's tent, his hair frayed in exhaustion. "You're not going to believe this, brother: a whole half-hour searching for short-circuits and wiring problems when, as it turns out, the curling iron's battery terminal just had a bit of shaving cream in it the entire time."
Flam rushed over to his brother's side. "Oh, thank goodness you're here, Flim! Would you please tell this simpleton that we are not—"
"Well, howdy Flim!" Applejack interrupted. "Me n' Flam were havin' a little debate just now and, well, I was wonderin'—What d'you believe in?"
"What do I believe in?" Flim gave Applejack a confused look. Flam just gave Applejack a look. "Well, I'm not quite sure what you mean, nor do I care to answer any of your questions. But I can tell you this: over the course of my life, I've come to believe in—hmm—four things."
Flam's hat fell to the ground.
"One: I am the greatest salespony Equestria has ever seen."
Applejack felt the horse fly crawling across the edge of her flank. It was nearly within smacking distance, now.
"Two: I am the greatest chef has ever seen."
Flam's eyes darted between Flim and Applejack, his face flashing from worry to deep, flaming hatred with every hurried glance.
"Three: I am the greatest mechanic Equestria has ever seen."
Applejack's tail twitched in anticipation. Almost there, and...
"...last, but most certainly not least"—Flim turned to face Flam, beaming with pride—"my brother is my equal in each and every one of the aforementioned areas of expertise!"
Snap!
Flam stared silently at his brother. His eyes grew heavy and his jaw hung slightly open, the corners of his mouth curling into a delicate frown.
"Are you alright, brother?" Flim gave the other stallion a light nudge.
"Oh, of course I'm alright!" Flam's face sprang back into a fake smile, his eyes shimmering. "Why, I'm fine and dandy, is what I am! How could I not be, when I've got"—he swallowed—"a brother as wonderful as you?"
Applejack's anger dissolved. Whatever fun she'd gotten out of picking on Flam melted away like wax. Did I just do that? she asked herself, thinking—really thinking—for the first time since she banged her funnybone. I know he deserved it, but—Well, hang on. Did he? Aw, maybe I went a little too—
"Applejack!"
Rainbow Dash slammed into the ground with a billowing crash, rattling the dishware and sending a cloud of dust into Applejack's face. She leapt out of her crater like a cat out of water. "AJ, we've got a big problem! Everypony needs to take cover right now!"
Applejack tried to wipe some of the dust out of her eyes, but she had to keep a hoof on her hat so it wouldn't off—a hot wind was blowing. "Is a storm comin' in? Shoot, I was afraid this would happen. How long've we got 'till it starts rainin'?"
"Not a storm!" Rainbow Dash shouted. "Way worse than a storm. We've gotta find Rarity and Fluttershy, and—Where'd Pinkie go!?" She glanced around the campsite with uncharacteristic worry.
"You gotta get ahold o' yourself, sugarcube. Just take a deep breath and tell me—"
"Where is Pinkie Pie!?"
Applejack trotted up to Rainbow's side, shaking her head a bit to clear her thoughts and restore her focus. It was hard to ignore Flim and Flam whispering anxiously to one-another, and harder still to talk over the wind. "She's in the tent, keepin' watch over Twilight. Now what's this all about, Rainbow?"
A tumult of roars flooded the forest, so loud they rocked the ground beneath Applejack's hooves.
"Take a guess," said Rainbow Dash.
Picking flowers wasn't as fun as Fluttershy hoped it would be. She'd expected a nice, relaxing morning of dawning skies, delicious smells, and pleasant conversation. Instead, she got a midday sun and buzzing nightmare of a meadow. It was like the Everfree Forest had given itself a haircut.
"Oh, you devilish little—Take that!" Rarity whirled around and snapped her tail at a mosquito. Her face was comically angry. "Fluttershy, these insects are a plague. A plague, I tell you. If I have to spend one more minute in this dreadful place, I'll—" She abated, chewing her lip at the sea of flowers that surrounded her. "Oh, but these flowers are so lovely, aren't they? A little too flashy for a proper bouquet, perhaps, but their smell is positively delectable! I'll just have to find a place for each and every one, even if it means I have to tolerate these..."—she sucked the air in through her teeth—"...insects. What say you, darling? A few minutes more, and then we'll leave?"
"Hm?" Fluttershy glanced up. "Oh, um... Yes, that sounds alright."
Satisfied with Fluttershy's answer, Rarity stuffed more flowers into her saddlebags, already full to bursting, and trode away through the fog of mosquitoes behind her.
Fluttershy let out another sigh; the flowers did not smell positively delectable. If she were being honest, she'd say the flowers were a little too strong for her liking, especially at breakfast time. If she were being perfectly honest, she'd call them a violent assault on the nose. More than that—these flowers were a sign. A warning of the vast ecological differences between Goluboy-Pero Forest and Equestria.
In Equestria, flowers who naturally grew together were complimentary of one-another. Their aromas blended into a fragrance far greater—far tastier—than the sum of its parts. But in Goluboy-Pero Forest, the flora were competitive. The flowers' scents overlapped one-another, vying for the attention of the equally aggressive bees and butterflies. They competed for light as well: all of them grew so tall, their petals reached above Fluttershy's knees.
Fluttershy still thought that it would be best to continue to pick flowers, even though she couldn't find any that suited her palate. This bouquet was meant for Twilight, after all. It didn't matter if Fluttershy couldn't enjoy herself. So she held her breath, bent down, and opened her mouth to collect the flower in front of her.
But before Fluttershy could even get her teeth around its stem, the flower dropped beneath the brush. When she ducked into the undergrowth to follow it, she found a chipmunk holding the stem between its teeth. It looked up at her distractedly.
Oh, maybe he knows where I can find something a little less sweet.
"Hello there, Mister Chipmunk. My name is Fluttershy, and I was wondering if maybe you could show me where I can find some not-overly-sweet flowers? Oh—that is, if you're not too busy of course." The chipmunk stared curtly at Fluttershy, giving the stem a few curious chews. He bolted.
Fluttershy pushed her head deeper into the mess of flowers and called out after him: "That's alright. I'm sure I can find them on my own. Thank you anyway."
He didn't chirp back. The empty forest of flower-stems gave Fluttershy a hollow, lonely feeling—a feeling she hadn't felt since she was very young.
Still, she was more confused than anything else. Why was that little chipmunk so much more interested in the stem of the flower than the petals? Didn't he know that the petals were the best part? Unless...
Fluttershy nosed open her saddlebags and bit off a few different colors of foliage.
"Yuck!" She spat them back out, scraping her tongue with her teeth to get as much of the vile stuff out of her mouth as possible. It was the worst thing Fluttershy had ever tasted, and that was coming from a pony who once chewed up a worm to feed a baby bird.
"Oh Rarity, I think we've made a terrible mistake," Fluttershy said, taking off her saddlebags and dumping out their contents. "I just tried some of the flowers, and they didn't taste very good at all. Maybe we should just head back now?"
No response.
Fluttershy then noticed how strong the wind had become. Warm, loud gales swept across the meadow, deafening her to the birdsongs and buzzing insects that were once so prevalent. She could barely hear her own voice over the noise; it made sense that Rarity wouldn't have been able to hear her either. She tried calling out once more, louder this time: "Where are you, Rarity? Can you hear me?"
Again, no response.
Maybe I'm standing a little too far away.
She glanced around the meadow, expecting to find Rarity near the edge of the clearing. Instead she found her only a few yards away, staring slack-jawed at the sky.
"What's the matter, Rarity?"
Fluttershy turned her head up to follow Rarity's gaze. There was a flock of what appeared to be blue cranes flying at pretty a low altitude, but that couldn't be what Rarity was looking at. Fluttershy shifted her focus a little farther away, and—
Dragons.
She froze. Her heart thumped painfully against her chest. Fear petrified her; all she could do was stare at the descending horde, with their leathery wings and shining eyes and all the raging jets of fire exploding out from between their teeth and oh, their TEETH.
Fluttershy heard a piercing shriek come from somewhere close by. It took her a moment to realize it was coming out of her own mouth.
Twilight squealed with joy. She was flying! She was really flying!
Well, actually she was just riding on Princess Cadance's back, but it was exhilarating all the same. She soared through the air, swooping across the palace gardens, whipping past statues and hedge-figures faster than she ever could have imagined. It was a little scary now that she thought about it, but Cadance wouldn't let her fall off. Twilight held on a little harder though, just in case.
"OUCH!" Cadance stopped mid-flight. She pulled Twilight off of her back with a flare of magic and dangled her in the air. "Twilight, you were tugging on my mane again. You need to hold on more gently, or this isn't going to be safe."
Twilight was pulling Cadance's hair? But she didn't do it on purpose! Her eyes welled up. "I-I didn't mean—"
An understanding smile graced Cadance's lips. "Oh, please don't cry, Twilight. I'm very sorry for yelling at you, but I'm only trying to keep you safe. Just promise me you'll be more gentle from now on, okay?"
"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Cadance placed Twilight on her back, nestling her safely between her wings. "Apology accepted."
And just like that, they were up in the air once more. Twilight instantly forgot her troubles and basked in the in the majesty of flight: the wind rushing past her face, Cadance's downy feathers brushing reassuringly against her legs, the sweet smell of the gardens filling her nose with every twist and dive. She couldn't remember what the names of the flowers were, but they smelled wonderful. Maybe if she leaned in a little closer, she could—
"Twilight, you're pulling my hair! You're pulling—"
Crash!
Twilight careened off of Cadance's back and into the rose bushes below. Thorns tore into her skin, snaring her in a mess of spikes and stems. She thrashed around, trying to free herself from the bush's needled grip, but her struggling only made the thorns dig deeper.
The only way Twilight could get out of the bushes was if she found Cadance. She whipped her head from left to right and screamed Cadance's name, tears blurring her vision. Eventually, Twilight spotted her a few feet away. Cadance was tangled in the bushes as well.
"Cadance! Cadance, I need help!"
Princess Cadance didn't move. She lay still, her face concealed by petals and shadowed greenery. "I told you not to pull my hair."
"I know!" Twilight yelled between choked sobs. "I'm really, really sorry! But I—"
"I told you not to pull my hair, Twilight." Cadance yanked herself free from the rose bushes. Her face was a bloody mess, torn apart like wrapping paper. "I told you not to pull my hair, but you didn't listen, and now you've got what you deserve."
"But-But Cadance, please! I need... I—"
"If you need help, you can help yourself. I'm not babying you anymore." Cadance turned around and walked away more slowly than what should have been possible. Fire blossomed in each hoofprint she left behind. The flames, blue and shining as forget-me-nots, crawled across the darkening grounds.
Twilight tried to scream, but her throat was locked shut by terror. Her whole body froze; no matter how much she willed her limbs to move, they held still as though bound by heavy chains. She couldn't even close her eyes. All she could do was watch the fire spread across the garden, burning all the sweet, pretty flowers until they turned to acrid smoke. The smoggy blanket made her cry and choke. Her skin buzzed. She felt like she was going to explode and implode at the same time. At last, she screamed—the fire was licking at her hooves. It rose up her hind legs, singed off her fur, and charred the skin beneath until—
"Twilight, wake up!"
Her eyes shot open. She felt her lungs spasming for breath. Her mouth was dry, and sweat matted every hair on her body. She pushed herself up on her elbow with a disoriented grunt and squinted through the dark of the tent. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie stared back at her. "Guys? Why are—What's going on?"
"Sorry to wake you up before breakfast," said Pinkie, "but we've got a really, really, really big crisis on our hooves! Rainbow Dash was flying above the clouds a little while ago, and while she was up there, she saw a great big flock of dragons!"
Twilight turned what little focus she could muster to Rainbow Dash. "Dragons? Are you sure?"
"Yeah. There were thirty or forty of 'em up there, easy. Lucky I'm so fast, or they would have spotted me before I had time to drop below the clouds."
"Okay, but..." Twilight rubbed her eyes. "Well, are you sure?"
Rainbow Dash gave Twilight an incredulous stare. "Pretty sure, yeah. You can't just look up and mistake a flock of birds or something for dragons."
"Plus, we didn't just see dragons! We heard them too!" Pinkie hopped up on her hind legs and loomed menacingly over Twilight. "They were like, 'ROOOAAAR!' I'm actually kinda surprised you didn't wake up."
Twilight rubbed her eyes again, trying to suppress a heavy yawn. "I'm sure the two of you know what you saw, but—Well, it just doesn't make any sense. The dragons won't be flying north for at least another seventy years, and even if they've somehow managed to consume every diamond in the Scorched South, their migratory route doesn't take them over New Leoquillia. I see no possible reason why we would find—"
"DRAGONS!" Rarity burst into the tent, her chest heaving. She stumbled across the ground, tripped over a sleeping bag, and collapsed on top of Twilight, knocking the breath out of her. "I saw... I was in... the meadow," she said between gasps of air, "and I thought I heard something... so I looked up and... and I saw... I saw... Oh." With that, Rarity passed out, her hoof raised daintily to her forehead.
Pinkie Pie gave Rarity's semi-conscious body a gentle tap. "Saw what?"
Twilight rolled her eyes, then pushed Rarity's body aside and peeled herself out of her sleeping bag. "Alright, I'm not going to argue with multiple eyewitnesses. So, what exactly are we going to do about these dragons?"
Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Well, we were kinda hoping you'd already have a plan in mind."
Of course. What else am I good for? Twilight slogged her way over to the tent's opening, making sure to grab her hair-ribbon along the way, and pulled the flaps apart. "I think the first thing we should do is get under cover. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy is the closest thing we have to an actual, practical shelter, so it would be best if—Uagh!"
Light. Burning, scathing, evil light. Twilight covered her face and recoiled into the shadiest part of the tent. How can it be so bright out already? Unless I've somehow managed to oversleep two days in a row, this can't—Oh, right. Now that we've left Equestria, Princess Celestia's magic won't...
Twilight cursed inwardly. She had almost managed to go a full three minutes without thinking about Princess Celestia.
Pinkie Pie trotted into Twilight's corner of the tent, a clever smile on her face. "Already gotcha covered on the shelter-thing, Twilight! Cranky, Trixie, and the Flim-Flam brothers are tucked away in the carriage, nice n' safe, so all we gotta do now is pack everything up, do a headcount, and figure out where to go from there!"
"Pack everything up?" Twilight gave Pinkie a befuddled look. "Pinkie Pie, we need to leave this place as soon as possible. A few tents and sleeping bags aren't worth risking our lives over."
Rainbow Dash cast a sidelong glance through the tent's opening. "Try telling that to Prince Blueblood."
Prince Blueblood... Ugh. I almost went a full three minutes without having to think about him, either.
Twilight braced herself for the sunlight and stepped out of the tent. She waited for Pinkie and Rainbow Dash to follow before zipping up the door behind them and walking to the other, sunnier end of the clearing. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw Applejack and Blueblood arguing near the carriage.
"I'm only gonna say this one more time, your majesty!" Applejack said. "Forget about the tent or you're gonna get'cherself killed! You can just buy replacements for all the stuff you'll be leavin' behind once we reach New Leoquillia!"
"Buy replacements? Buy replacements!?" Blueblood jabbed his hoof at his tent, giving Applejack a look of supreme indignation. "Miss Applejack, do have any idea—any idea in the world—how valuable the contents of that tent are? Every single item inside of that tent was custom-made, hoof-crafted, and personally gifted to me by the most renowned furniture designers in all of Equestria. They are literally irreplaceable."
Applejack's eyes went wide. "Why in the world would you take anything that valuable on a camping trip?"
"Well, pardon me for not anticipating a dragon-attack." Prince Blueblood covered his face with his hoof, stress weighing down his figure. "Oh, this doesn't make even the slightest bit of sense! How is it that—Why, good morning Miss Sparkle!"
Twilight began to chew her lip. Not good; she was already losing patience with Blueblood, and he'd only said five words to her. The sooner she cut this conflict off, the better.
"I'm so happy to see you awake!" he said, bounding up to Twilight with a Pinkie-ish spring. "I say, if it isn't too much trouble, could you help me pack up my things?" He chortled. "Oh, but what am I saying! Of course it isn't too much trouble, not for the Spirit of Magic herself!"
"Oh no you don't!"Applejack dashed over to Twilight as well, though her gait wasn't as jovial as Blueblood's. "You ain't gotta do anything Prince Blueblood tells you, Twilight. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing we need to do is—"
"It's fine. I can have everything packed up in thirty seconds. Just stand back." Twilight took a deep breath, drew as much energy into her horn as she could, and... Krrch! Every single tent in the campsite ripped straight out of the ground, stakes and all. One by one, they lined up in a row and flew across the—
"Hnng—" The camping gear lurched. Twilight flinched just as hard.
"Are you okay, Twilight?" Pinkie asked.
"I'm fine. It's fine."
Actually, it wasn't fine. The combined mass of the equipment would have been tough to handle even if Twilight were fully awake; it would take all of her focus to make this work. She changed her grip, hefted the camping gear, and shoved it along the shaky channel of her magic.
Something tapped her on the shoulder. Pinkie again: "Twilight, I think that—"
"I said, it's fine." The camping gear was almost all the way to the other end of the grounds now. With a muffled grunt and a hot flare of her horn, Twilight popped open the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy's trunk and propped it. She tightened her ribbon to keep her mane from sticking to the sweat on her forehead.
"Uh, Twilight, I'm pretty sure—"
"It's fine, Pinkie!"
The tents had finally reached the other end of the campsite. Twilight magically pressed them into a single, crumpled mass of wood and fabric, propped the trunk just a little farther open, positioned the ball of camping gear for maximum cramming efficiency, and—
"Twilight."
"It's fine!" Twilight whipped around to face Pinkie Pie. With a crash, the tents collapsed into a jumbled mess behind her. "How many times do I have to tell you something before you actually start listening to me, Pinkie!? It's fine! It's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine! It! Is! Fine!"
Pinkie Pie silently gestured towards the other end of the campsite. When Twilight turned to follow Pinkie's motion, she saw that something was flailing around inside of the tent-heap.
"Rarity!"
A horn stabbed up from within the purple tent on top. It ripped apart the material, slitting through nylon and zippers and golden trim, even denting the brass knob that went atop the flag pole. And once the horn had ceased its butchering, and the tent was nothing more than a pile of tattered scraps, there was Rarity, rising from the heap like Venus from her shell. Her eyes were filled with death.
"You left me in the tent."
"I, er—" Twilight backed away out of instinct. "Yes. Yes I did and I am very sorry to have done that. But I—"
"You. Left me. In the tent."
Twilight glanced around, hoping that somepony might be willing to come to her defense. This did not appear to be the case. Applejack was having a laugh attack, as was Rainbow Dash. Prince Blueblood seemed far too stunned to notice anything other than the scene playing in front of him. The only pony whose eye she caught was Pinkie Pie, and all she was willing to do was give Twilight an 'I told you so' stare.
Twilight turned back around. Rarity's face was now inches away. "Rarity, I swear I didn't mean to—"
"You left me in the tent!" Rarity stomped her feet in a manner some would describe as unladylike. "I could have suffocated! I could have died right then and there, and you wouldn't have realized it until the next time you opened the trunk!"
"I know, and—"
Rarity shushed Twilight with a glare. "And what's worse is, in order to save myself, I had to destroy my beautiful tent! Now what will protect us from all of these horrid insects while we sleep? Nothing! Nothing at all!" She brought a trembling hoof to her lip. Her voice grew very quiet. "Oh my goodness, I've just realized—my tent is destroyed. My two-hundred bit, custom-colored, designer tent is destroyed."
"Rarity, I really—"
"And that's not even the worst of it!" Rarity sniffled. "No, the worst part of this terrible charade is that you all forgot about me! Every single one of you! I suppose I could expect this sort of thing from Rainbow Dash, but the rest of you? For shame!"
Rainbow Dash didn't have anything to say in her defense. All she could do was roll around on the ground, her legs wagging in the air hysterically. "Oh man, can you imagine the obituary? 'Honored Spirit of Harmony killed by a tent!'"
"It's not funny!" Rarity stormed up to Rainbow Dash and gave her a chastening kick to the side. "I was exhausted to fainting, and instead of helping me up, you just left me there to die! Don't you feel the least bit ashamed?"
"Why should she?" Applejack removed her hat and began to fan herself. "Land sakes girl, get a little perspective! Poor ol' Fluttershy was probably runnin' twice as hard as you were, and you don't see her passin' out all over the place."
"Hey, come to think of it..." Rainbow Dash picked herself up, her laughter replaced by a quick sobriety. "Has anypony seen Fluttershy? Like, at all?"
Twilight blinked. She had not seen Fluttershy, and given the others' hurried glances around the campsite, none of them had seen Fluttershy either.
"Hold on, this doesn't make any sense." Twilight trotted up to Rainbow, shaking her head assuredly. "Fluttershy has to be around here somewhere, doesn't she? Maybe she's in the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy with the others. She wouldn't just go wandering off into the forest without at least asking permission first, after all."
Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity all exchanged worried looks.
"Wait... Why was Rarity in the meadows? What's going on, here?"
Prince Blueblood cleared his throat. "I believe Miss Sparkle and I are both missing a key piece of information. Would the three of you be so kind as to put us in the know?"
"Are you sure you wouldn't just be better off in the dark?" Applejack gave Blueblood a shrewd glare.
Prince Blueblood shot Applejack a threatening look of his own. "Very well then, Miss Applejack! Perhaps you could explain to us what you meant when you said that Miss Fluttershy 'was probably running twice as hard' as Miss Rarity? Because if I'm not mistaken, your saying this implies a certain degree of knowledge. Am I correct?"
Applejack swallowed.
Twilight took a few tentative steps towards Applejack, her head askew. "Is that true, Applejack? Are you hiding something from us?"
"Well Twilight, I"—she took a small breath—"I wanted to cook you a nice breakfast this mornin', so I asked Rarity n' Fluttershy if they could go down to the meadow to pick a bouquet for a side-dish. So if she ain't here, then that means she's still—"
Pinkie Pie leapt in front of Applejack with a tremendous gasp. "She's still in the meadows! She's still in the meadows! We gotta get there as fast as we can, or those dragons'll gobble her up!"
"Wait, seriously? She's still there?" Rainbow Dash swooped over to Rarity, her arms raised above her head in furious disbelief. "Rarity, you've gotta be kidding me! Did you even check to see if she was following you?"
"I'm sorry, I just assumed that she was! Besides, I was so frightened, I—Oh, why should I feel guilty about this? I couldn't possibly be expected to keep track of Fluttershy, not while there were dragons flying about!" Rarity jabbed Rainbow's chest. "What's your excuse? Why didn't you realize she hadn't returned with me?"
"Classic Rarity! You get all huffy about how nopony remembers you, but when—"
"NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS!" Blueblood cut between the squabbling pair and gave them a severe look. "Miss Fluttershy is in grave danger, and the death of a Spirit of Harmony is a casualty we cannot afford. We must rescue her posthaste. Now, would somepony please tell me where the meadows are?"
Pinkie's hoof shot up. "They're straight up north from here! I'm pretty sure it's a ten minute walk, but if we all gallop I bet we can make it there in only three minutes! Oh, but"—Pinkie retracted her hoof, frowning with diffidence—"I dunno how we're gonna deal with the dragons once we get there. The only one of us that's ever reasoned with a grown-up dragon is Fluttershy, and I don't think she's gonna be able to save herself from a whole horde!"
Blueblood closed his eyes and exhaled, hissing through his teeth. After several seconds, he spoke: "Guard?"
"Yes, your grace?" The black guardpony appeared at Blueblood's side. His face was even harder than usual, as though he were actively trying not to show emotion.
"Have you been trained to perform rescue missions?"
The guard gave a curt nod.
"Then I would like you rescue the Spirit of Kindness, preferably without alerting any of the dragons to your presence. Can you do this for me?"
The guardpony drew a sharp breath. "Yes, I think so."
Blueblood opened his eyes. He turned toward the guard and leaned into his face to give him a narrow, menacing glare. "You think so?"
"I—Apologies, your highness," the guardpony said, casting his eyes away from Blueblood's. "Yes, I can rescue her."
"Then go." Prince Blueblood gestured northward.
After giving a quick salute, the guard turned to follow Blueblood's hoof and—with visible hesitation—dashed into the woods, vanishing silently as he ran.
A lump formed in Twilight's throat. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be this close to losing another one of her friends, not so soon after Princess Celestia. She screwed her eyes shut and took a long, hard breath through gritted teeth. This wasn't happening. It wasn't.
"Miss Sparkle?"
Twilight's eyes snapped open. Blueblood stood in front of her, giving her a look of stern expectancy. She stuttered in response: "I—Yes?"
Prince Blueblood drew his handkerchief out of his pocket and gave his forehead a few chaste dabs. "In my guard's absence, we will require some alternative means of self-protection. Are you familiar with the apocrymantic corpus?"
Twilight was taken aback; Blueblood was so... sharp. So focused and direct. So completely different from how he was acting just a few minutes ago. So completely different from how she should be acting. Yes, that's right, this was no time for panic. This was happening, and if she was going to be of any help, she needed to pull herself together.
"If by 'apocrymantic corpus,' you're referring to the magic of concealment, then yes." Twilight gave the ends of her ribbon a quick tug and looked Prince Blueblood straight in the eye. "I have a passing familiarity with some glamours and protection charms, but I'm not an expert. Do want me to cast a spell on the campsite?"
"No, nothing so taxing," Blueblood replied, stuffing the handkerchief back into his breast pocket. "I would, however, like you to conceal our mode of transport."
"Could you be more specific?"
"Please turn the carriage invisible and inaudible. The charms should only affect the outside of the vehicle; do not impair the driver's line of sight, nor should you change the opacity of the windows. Can you do this?"
Twilight pursed her lips in thought. The inaudibility charm wouldn't be too difficult to pull off—noise-cancellation charms were easy—but turning the carriage and all its contents invisible to Blueblood's specifications? Not so much.
Twilight was not as well-versed in apocrymancy as she would have liked. She never found the spells worth looking into; they weren't challenging enough to catch her attention, nor practical enough to demand it. She could cast them—of course, she could cast them—but she couldn't cast them easily, especially on objects as large and complex as the carriage. But it wasn't the size of the carriage that scared Twilight—it was the windshield.
Usually, when somepony wanted to turn themselves invisible, they could enchant most of their body but ignore their pupils—no one would notice something as small as a pupil. But windshields weren't small. If Twilight wanted to conceal the vehicle without compromising the driver's sight, she would have to cast an advanced version of the spell: a magical conduit with one lane, one tunnel, and two exits. Again, she could do it. And again, it would be tricky.
"Yes," Twilight said, returning to Prince Blueblood, "but again, I'm no expert on this type of magic. Casting those spells will take time."
"Then I suppose you'd better get started. As for the rest of you"—he turned to face the others, giving them a thin grimace—"I would like you to help me pack our belongings so that the dragons, should they appear, will not immediately discover us. Come along, we haven't much time."
Everypony began a fearful, hurried trot towards the carriage.
Despite the urgency of the situation, Twilight still felt a piece of her brain burning with curiosity. She spotted Applejack at the back of the small crowd, trailing with a depressed canter. Twilight caught up to her and gently pulled her aside with a bit of magic. "Applejack, I need to ask you something."
Applejack eyes shifted along the ground. "Somethin' wrong, Twilight?"
"Er—Well, I..." For some reason, the words wouldn't form in Twilight's mouth. Her eyes lingered over to the southeasterly end of the campsite, where the others had already started sorting their belongings. They sifted through layers of camping gear, looking for scraps of the purple tent. Rarity was close to tears—probably for several reasons.
"Sugarcube?"
"Oh!" Twilight snapped back to attention. At last, she spoke: "Why did you feel the need to make me a special breakfast this morning?"
"Well—That is, uh..." Applejack hid her face behind the corner of her hat. "With all that happened yesterday, I figured you were havin' a tough time of things with... y'know. I thought maybe I could cheer you up with pancakes n' good company, but—Oh, never you mind none. It don't matter now."
Twilight stepped off to the side, allowing Applejack to pass. Something heavy tugged on her stomach. She chose to ignore it.
Grass and darkness. Apart from her own hooves, they were the only things Fluttershy could see.
She'd been pressing herself into the cool dirt for hours now, hoping the dragons wouldn't notice her in the undergrowth. She could hear them laughing, feel them stomping around, stifling the air with jets of fire, hot ashes landing on her back. It was too much—the humidity was so great, she could barely breathe. She had to get out of the clearing soon.
But grass and darkness were all Fluttershy could see.
She'd been hiding in the brush for so long, she couldn't tell north from south. She would have no way of getting back to camp. That was assuming she could even will herself to move; every muscle in her body felt weak and tense at the same time. Her fur was covered in sweat, and her stomach felt as though it were climbing up her throat. If she moved, she would throw up. She knew it.
Still, better to throw up than to get eaten.
Fluttershy took a breath. She shut her eyes, pushed her hooves an inch forward, then slowly pulled herself through the grass. Immediately, she perked her ears and listened: a few nearby dragons were chuckling—teenagers from the sound of it—but no heavy footsteps. She let out a quiet, imperceptible sigh and—
Krrch!
A large, clawed foot slammed down in front of Fluttershy.
Something grabbed her tail and yanked her out of the undergrowth. Grass and darkness gave way to painful sunlight, and she was blinded. She pried open her eyes—slowly, painfully, her heart thumping against her chest—and came face to face with a tall, stiletto-red dragon. "Well, lookie what we got here."
With a laugh, he turned around and called out to a pair of teenage dragons standing a few feet away. "Check it out, guys! Told you I could sneak up on her!"
They broke into fits of laughter. The one on the right, a grotesquely fat creature with brown scales and stubby horns, spoke. "I didn't think you had it in you! All that practice with the phoenices in Froud Valley must have paid off."
The gangly, pruple dragon on the left doubled over. "Ha—Oh man, look at her! She's got butterflies and a pretty pink mane!"
"I know, right?" The red dragon let out a scathing, churlish laugh. "Isn't she just the namby-pambiest thing you've ever seen? Hey, d'you think we can get her to scream if we—Woah!"
Fluttershy's wings started flapping on their own. Without thinking, she flew harder than she ever had before, ignoring the burn in her muscles and the tugging on her grappled tail. The red dragon barely held on.
"Nng—Guys, help me out here!"
The other dragons swooped over and tore Fluttershy out of the air. They clawed her back, plucked her feathers, and wrestled her into the dirt until she stopped moving her wings—not because she was tired, but because she couldn't feel them. The red dragon stooped down to face her at eye-level, a disgusting grin on his face. "What's your name, pony?"
Fluttershy couldn't say anything back. She felt something on her wings—something warm and wet and worrisome that slicked from the numbest, most injured spots. And this dragon, this red behemoth whose breath smelled of fear and dead animals, was showing her his teeth. Heavens, his teeth. Fluttershy wanted to look away, but her eyes stuck to them like plaque, dashing over every reddened fang.
"You like my teeth, huh?"
She buried her face in the ground.
"Aw, come on!" the dragon said. "You know just because you can't see me, that doesn't mean I can't see you, right?" He grabbed Fluttershy's chin and pulled her out of the dirt, bringing her close to his toothy smile. "Now, tell me your name or I'm gonna bite your face off."
Fluttershy started to cry. She couldn't remember what her name was. "Fuh... Flutteh... F-Fluh... F-F-Fuh..."
"Fuh! Fuh! Fuh!" the dragon mimicked, contorting his face into mock terror. "What kind of a name is 'Fuh?' Have either of you guys ever met anybody named 'Fuh?'"
The fat one let out a deep, throaty laugh. "I know I haven't. What about you, Crash?"
"Nah, me neither! I think she's lying to you, dude." The purple dragon grabbed Fluttershy's mane and yanked hard, making her cry out. "You lying to my friend, pony? Are you? Huh?"
The red dragon leaned back, thoughtfully tapping his chin. "Hmm... No, I don't think she's lying. She's probably just having a little trouble expressing herself. Isn't that right, pony?" He shoved his face back down, grinning wide enough to show off every tooth in his mouth. "Aw, don't worry. I'm sure if I give you a little encouragement, your lips will loosen right up."
The dragon pulled his head back, opened his mouth as wide as he could, and— Snap!
Fluttershy tried to leap backwards, but the other dragons held her down. She spoke louder and faster than she ever had in her life. "Please, I'm sorry! I don't want to—"
Snap!
"AH!" The dragons holding onto Fluttershy were laughing now. They shoved her closer to the red demon's gnashing teeth. "Please, I'm sorry! I'll do anything, just please don't—"
Snap!
"No!" Fluttershy let go of any articulacy she had left, breaking down into a pile of dizzied screams and sobs. "Anything! Anything, please—"
Snap!
"Please!" But the dragon only moved closer, so close now that Fluttershy could see down his throat.
"No, PLEA—"
SNAP!
...But his teeth didn't connect. Fluttershy didn't feel the dragon bite down onto her muzzle. She couldn't smell his rotten breath, or hear the atrocious laugh of his friends. All she heard now was the wind rushing past her face and the hypnotic rustle of the dark, swaying undergrowth. Her legs floated meekly behind her.
The sight of them made her sick for some reason, but it was a comfortable nausea, like the feeling she got before they put her to sleep for surgery. It was nice and quiet, too—there was only a whisper:
"Stay calm. Keep your head down."
Grass and darkness were all Fluttershy could see.
Grass and darkness.