//------------------------------//
// Real Magicalism 
// Story: Real Magicalism 
// by SwordTune 
//------------------------------//

She was ready.
It was midnight when Sweetie Belle saw the first sign of Diamond Tiara and her group pulling up to the Nost in an off-road jeep.
The three of them, Sweetie, Applebloom, and Scootaloo, had been waiting by the Nost for nearly fifteen minutes. They would have gone ahead and waited inside, but this would be a one-time experience, and they promised they’d stick together to share it. 
The Nost Pond was like a traveling circus, never staying in one place. They heard about it when it had sprung up near Mount Daisen in Japan. A few months later it showed up in Gaube Lake in France. Later, on the Isle of Avalon. Now it was in Badwater Basin. In Death Valley.
First one out was Silver Spoon, running down the sandy path and ignoring both Sweetie Belle and Applebloom.
“You made it!” Scootaloo cheered, twirling her partner by the waist and pulling her close for a kiss.
“Y’all brought the whiskey?” Applebloom asked.
“You bet!” Diamond Tiara said, waving two bottles above her head as she strutted over. Pipsqueak and Twist followed behind her, already taking hits out of a bong. 
Sweetie shook her head at them. “Save some for the rest of us.”
“Relax, we still got beer.” Applebloom gave their icebox a light kick.
“Can’t crossfade with beer and whiskey.”
“Good point,” Applebloom said. “Y’all ready?”
Sweetie Belle stared at her own face in the pond. Being a model for her sister’s fashion line, she had seen it a hundred times on her Instachat posts. Whether it was dresses or crop tops or yoga pants, she was a professional at looking at herself and making the adjustments needed for her growing body. Every year her hips seemed to balloon, though she thanked Gadde every day for preserving her bra size and sparing her back. 
But as comfortable as she was in her skin, this time was different. Sweetie touched her cheek, then her nose, then her ears, imagining fur or scales. She could feel the music—Just Dance by Lady Gaga—through the sand, but the pond was black as night. 
“What do you think is actually in there?”
“Faerie Land,” Applebloom said. “Heard it’s where everything magic comes from: trolls, wyverns, invisible men, Australians—”
“Australians?”
“What do you think we’ll look like after we dive?” asked Scootaloo, finally done making out with Silver Spoon. “I heard the faeries turn you into one of them.”
Diamond Tiara shook her head. “I saw a French girl on ClipClock say they turned her into some kind of harpy. She had feathers on her arms.” 
“How do they choose?” Sweetie asked. “Like, is it based on our vibe or do they just do whatever they want?” Suddenly Sweetie wondered if she should delete her posts about coming to the Nost. Her followers were going to ask about her changes. “Can we change back if we turn into something freaky?”
Tiara threw her arm around Sweetie’s shoulder. “Dude, you’ve been almost unfairly cute since middle school. Not cuter than me, but you’ll be fine. Come on, smile!” 
Then, Tiara pulled her close and tight, sticking her tongue out for a confident selfie. Sweetie wasn’t convinced, but it was too late to turn back now. Diamond Tiara posted to Instachat the moment she took the photo. She inhaled deep, pouring back a can of beer for courage
“Fuck it, I’m already here.” Then, she jumped in.


Sweetie woke up to the sound of Rhianna’s Disturbia and found it was dark. She cleared her hair from her face, took two steps, and bumped into Tiara’s arms. She could feel the cold sweat on their skin, sticky like glue, holding them together. What was the time?
The sky above them was the Nost. She looked up and she could see the party reflected in the water, thousands of bodies moving in rhythmic gyration to the faerie DJ. Sweetie wasn’t sure how she knew, but Sweetie was vaguely aware that they were at the edge of the rave, but she still stumbled and tripped against random dancers.
Moments later she noticed Tiara’s hand, and a bong, at her mouth. Pip’s weed tasted like blueberries and cotton candy. She liked it.
“Sorry,” Diamond Tiara slurred.
“What?” Sweetie leaned closer.
“I said someone finished the whiskey!”
“We ran out?”
“Almost. Enough for a shot. Let’s share.” Diamond Tiara put the bottle to her mouth. Sweetie reached for it, but slipped as Tiara pulled her in, planting a kiss. It tasted like blueberries at first, but then the whiskey came and the kiss became sharp and burning, like fire. 
Her hand moved on its own to hold Tiara closer only to find two protrusions on her back. Faerie wings. How long had those been there?
Tiara laughed. “I like yours, too.” 
Sweetie Belle felt a tug on her hip, and suddenly a wiry leather tail was in Tiara’s hands. She pulled on it gently, and suddenly they were kissing again, just because.
A few hours later, when the faeries had stopped the music and troll cleaners started moving about, Sweetie recovered her senses at the top of a grass knoll. 
“You’re pretty,” Tiara expounded. “Oh my Gadde, you’re so pretty! Come here!” Somehow still awake, she took pictures to show off their faeshifts on Instachat. 
Her shirt wasn’t her own, and Sweetie Belle noticed her tail was long to hide away. Moreover, short horns peaked out from under her hair, her teeth had sharpened, and her eyes looked like glowing coals. 
It scared her. 
It amazed her. 
She didn’t know what she was going to tell her sister. Her new body would need new measurements, and people were going to talk about it on Instachat. They would have anyway. Her account had a million followers curiously tapping at her photos and everyone had something to say.
Sweetie Belle turned her face anyway, placing a hand up to her eyes as Diamond Tiara shared more selfies.
She wasn’t ready.