//------------------------------// // After the Rain // Story: A 14th Century Friar in Celestia's Court // by Antiquarian //------------------------------// Friar Jacques had come a long way in anticipating and preparing for pony displays of affection. As such, he took the precaution of bracing himself for an emphatic and potent group hug. It proved to be a wise precaution, as the cry of “Friar Jacques!” burst forth as if from a collective throat of the mares present on the scene. Well, at least those who are conscious. It was a cry of relief and joy and the release of adrenalin, and the lingering memory of fear now given its antidote. The near physical shockwave of the cry was only overshadowed by the actually physical shockwave of affection that hit him like an avalanche of hugs. An odd description, one I feel I would not have made prior to meeting Pinkie Pie, thought Jacques as the mare in question seemed to do her level best to hug his spine into paste, but one which feels apropos all the same. Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Ditzy Doo – whom he did not know save in passing – pounced on him like benign and cuddly lionesses. He was briefly aware of Ditzy Doo pulling away with a mumbled, “Oops, sorry,” as though she were afraid she was intruding on the others’ hug, only for her to be pulled back into the group hug by Pinkie with a perfunctory “Get back here!” Astonishingly, Friar Jacques managed to keep his footing through all of this, though it was only by the narrowest of margins. He was about to congratulate himself for this feat when he heard the telltale burst of teleportation and the gleeful “Friar Jacques!” of Twilight Sparkle. Her vigorous – and fully armored – self-introduction to the group hug proved to be the proverbial straw that broke the back of the proverbial camel’s no doubt equally proverbial spine, and the friar succumbed to the overbalanced weight of pony affection, toppling into the mud with a wet splorsh. Twilight, the last to join, was also the first to rise, jumping to her hooves and levitating the others off the friar one by one before lifting Jacques himself. “Oops, sorry,” she apologized with a sheepish giggle as she took off her helmet. “I guess I got a little excited.” “Pray, think nothing of it, fair lady. It would appear you had every reason to be excited,” chuckled Friar Jacques as he did his best to brush off the muck. “My trip to Canterlot proved not so calm as I had hoped, but it seems that things have been even more… complicated here in Ponyville.” Twilight winced, her smile deserting her. “Yes, the princess sent me a letter advising me of your own experiences shortly before,” she gestured to Trixie, “all of this started.” More quietly, she clarified, “So far, nopony else knows.” Jacques put out a hand and briefly tousled her mane, doing his best to give fatherly assurance that he only partially felt himself. “Pay that no mind for now,” he advised her quietly. “I’m sure we’ll make do.” Zecora, who had not joined in the group hug, approached and took Friar Jacques’ hand, pressing it warmly with a smile on her face. You arrive at an opportune time, Wielding shovel like a bat, That your trip was far less than sublime, I find a worrying fact. Lady Zecora, you are fortunate to not know the half of it. “That matter will keep. For now,” he gestured to Trixie, “perhaps you had best explain to me the nature of this… amulet.” He practically spat the word. “Morning Song and Rainbow Dash told Rarity, Oaken, and myself what they could, but most of what they knew was speculation.” And I didn’t stay around for much of the speculation, admittedly. Rather than getting an answer, he found himself inundated with other questions. “Rarity’s with you?” “Is she okay?” “Where is she?” “Where’s Oaken?” “Ladies, please!” Jacques interrupted. “Rarity and Oaken are fine. When we came to the edge of the storm and could not safely travel further by train, I sent the train back to Canterlot whilst the three of us continued on foot. We went to the town first, encountered Morning Song and Rainbow Dash whilst they were out warning ponies to stay indoors, and they remained there when I sensed that the epicenter of all this Darkness was in the quarry.” Granted, they did not know I was leaving them there while I sought out the Dark epicenter, and they will probably we rather cross with me for slipping away, but I can live with their anger so long as they are alive to be angry. “Now, I’m sure you have at least as many questions as I do, but since I do not know how long Miss Lulamoon will be unconscious, please confirm for me that this Dark artifact did indeed give her this present power and malignance.” Jacques hardly needed much confirmation – he could feel the malice radiating off the thing as it lay wrapped around Trixie’s neck like a parasite – but it was sensible to confirm his theories as much as possible before taking action. “That’s correct,” supplied Twilight. “It’s called the Alicorn Amulet. Very old, very powerful, and very capable of corrupting the mind of the user.” “Very well,” said Friar Jacques with a slight smile. He charged his hand to sever magic and destroy Dark Enchantments and bent to reach for the amulet. “Let us make it very broken.” “Friar Jacques, wait—” His hand grasped the amulet. BOOM—CRASH! The thunderbolt punched Friar Jacques back and through a nearby stack of empty crates before his brain had time to fully compute the thought, ‘oh no.’ A cry of dismay rose from the mares, but before it could reach its apex of timbre and volume he was on his feet, hair and beard bristling and smoking from its ends. “Iamfine!” he assured them, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a deluge of verbosity. His feet moved of their own accord, taking him where they willed as energy coursed through his limbs and drove his arms to move about with equal vigor as he marched around the sodden ground of the quarry. “Myarmorandmagictookthepunsihment. Just-need-to-walk-it-off. WHOW-that-was-a-shock.” Zecora, Twilight, and Ditzy Doo all heaved a collective sigh of relief, and Fluttershy practically fell over. Pinkie Pie put a hoof to her muzzle and giggled. “Wow, Jacquesie, you took that shock way better than I did.” “That-sounds-like-you-had-a-poor-experience-Pinkie-I-hope-you’re-doing-better-now,” replied Jacques, who discovered he was having difficulty keeping his mouth from running off on its own. “Worse’n yours from what Ah hear,” drawled a baritone voice. Jacques’ head snapped to see Burnt Oak ambling up. “Ah’d advise ya not ta try that again, Friar. Take it from me, tain’t no pretty thing when lightning do strike twice.” Jacques noted the woodspony’s heavy armament and considered asking about it, but quickly decided there were more pressing issues. “Believe me when I say that I am in emphatic agreement with you, Monsieur Oak,” he replied, his speech slowing to a more normal pace, but still clipped and snappy. “The question remains, however, how best to remove that confounded amulet.” “An’ how ta keep her unconscious until we do,” agreed the woodspony. “My lab,” declared Twilight. “That’ll give us the best chance of finding a solution, or at least a stopgap. Now that the barrier’s down, I should be able to contact Princess…” she trailed off, swallowing hard, “or, at least, we can contact her if Spike is okay.” A stab of fear pierced Jacques’ heart. “What has become of young Spike?” he demanded. Please God, if something happened to him whilst I was away… “Hurt, but alive and stable. Redheart and Medevac are looking after him.” Friar Jacques let out a slow breath. “Then he is in the best hands available. So to speak.” It was harder to reassure Twilight on this point than on the matter of the assassination attempts in Canterlot. He is yet a young boy, thought Jacques with an all-too-familiar pain. Far too young to face such perils. God, grant Redheart and Medevac the grace to see him through this unharmed. But I cannot afford to dwell on that now, he thought. I must attend first to the matter of Miss Lulamoon. Bending down, he picked Trixie up and slung her over his shoulder. “Lady Twilight, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me honestly. Do you have enough energy left to teleport us directly to your laboratory from here?” “I wish,” replied Twilight unhappily. “That fight took a lot out of me. I might be able to teleport three of us once we’re closer – you, me, and Trixie – but for now we’d better get walking.” Jacques nodded. “We’d best be about it then.” Before they departed, Zecora expressed that she had a potion – one applied topically, fortunately – which could be applied to Trixie’s face and, upon seeping into her skin, would hopefully keep her unconscious long enough for the party to reach the library. As she applied the foul-smelling concoction, the zebra remarked, “Yes, the smell is a crime, but it will buy you time.” Charging them not to apply the potion more than once in a day, Zecora departed, picking her way back towards the Everfree with the intent to procure potions and books of potions which might help them treat their friends’ conditions, or at least keep Trixie under. The rest of them headed to Ponyville. The mood of the party was sober as they picked their way back to town with as much speed as they could muster under the circumstances. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie and Ditzy Doo stayed close to Fluttershy, who trembled as she trotted along. Burnt Oak, Jacques noted, hung behind the friar and his unconscious cargo, hoof never far from his loaded crossbow. A wise precaution, thought Jacques, though I hope it is an unnecessary one. To have come so far as to take the poor mare alive… I pray we are able to keep her that way. He winced as his memory recalled the assassin who had taken his own life on the train, another victim of Dark Magic and revenge. God, help me save this one. Unsurprisingly, it was Pinkie who broke the silence, though she spoke with a surprisingly somberness, “Do you think the others have been un-transmogrified?” “Oh, I hope so,” murmured Fluttershy. “The storm clouds are gone,” Ditzy pointed out. “That’s good, right?” “But Trixie still has Rainbow’s wings,” Twilight pointed out gloomily. “I don’t think we can count on them being returned to normal.” Pinkie, with the tone of one desperately trying to lighten the mood, observed, “Kind of a pity it was AJ and Mackie that got tree-mogrified, since you were the one who said you wouldn’t mind being a tree, Fluttershy.” Jacques blinked. “Pardonne-moi, Miss Pie, but do I understand you aright in thinking that Applejack and Big MacIntosh have been turned into trees?” “Uh-huh,” chirped Pinkie. “They got tree-mogrified, Fritters got spear-mogrified, Marble and Ironhide got statue-ogrified,” she tittered to herself, “Tee-hee! Ironhide and -ogrified. That one rhymed. Anyhoo, Song got bird-ogrified, Rainbow got… sorta earth pony-lite-mogrified – though I guess you knew those last two – and Ditzy Doo became,” her voice became a deep-voiced, gravelly growl, “another fine addition to Trixie’s collection,” Pinkie gave a hacking cough, then resumed in her normal voice, “and that’s how our day went.” She paused. “Oh, and I got magically punched through a wall.” In a low tone, very nearly a whisper, she added, “Wouldn’t have been so bad if not for poor Spike.” “God have mercy,” said the friar feelingly. “I take it you didn’t stick around Morning Song and Rainbow Dash long enough for the full rundown?” Twilight asked, her voice at once dryly amused and very, very tired. “It would seem not,” replied Jacques. “Well, Source be praised for your sense of timing then,” remarked Twilight. “Dieu est bon, right? I’d rather have you on the field with a shovel than getting the rundown on all the ways our day went down the crapper.” She blushed slightly at her crude word choice, then let out a muted half-laugh. “Sorry, Friar. It’s been a very long day.” “Indeed it has,” agreed the friar, very conscious of the heavy weight and the Dark presence on his shoulder. A long day… and far from over. Rainbow Dash was plodding along through the rain, Morning Songbird on her head and Rarity and Oaken at her heels – the latter ponies being a welcome reintroduction to the storm-slashed Ponyville – when two very significant things happened at once. Firstly, the storm stopped. The rain ceased, the clouds cleared, the thunder ended, and the Darkly inclement weather vanished in seconds as though it had never been, leaving only the rain-slicked streets and homes as evidence of its existence. Rainbow Dash was scarcely able to notice or appreciate this fact, at least initially, because of the second significant thing that happened in the same moment. A moment prior, it had been Morning Songbird who sat atop Rainbow Dash’s head. That moment ended, and all of the sudden – with special emphasis attached to ‘sudden’ – it was Morning Song on her head. Period. Full stop. No ‘bird’ modifier in play. Morning Song, a pony who, when returned to her proper form, had not the feathery, hollow-boned weight of a tiny bird but, in fact, the full mass of a strong and athletic earth pony warrior in full battle regalia. The manner in which Rainbow Dash experienced this transmogrification from Songbird to Song was experienced thusly: Hey, the rain is starting to let o—OWWOWWHUPFWUH! Morning Song’s weight – proper for a pony of her build and vocation, and far from inconsiderable when compared to that of a bird – forced Rainbow Dash’s head down with the force of a falling hammer, smashing her face into the cobblestone pavement and jamming her muzzle between two of the cobblestones. The abruptness of the downward journey to the pavement was so shocking to Rainbow Dash that it took a moment for her brain to catch up with the signals her nerves were sending to her. When those signals were received, her brain put together a plan of action designed to draw immediate and needed actions from those other parties present so as to alleviate the regrettable turn of events that had placed her in such an unenviable position. The plan was both simple and direct, and was put into effect as soon as it became actionable. Rainbow Dash screamed. Morning Song had been engaged in a conversation with Rarity and Private Oaken when the transmogrification occurred. Her experience was somewhat smoother than Rainbow Dash’s though no less jarring. How it transpired might be summarized thusly: “I know you’re worried about Friar Jacques, Rarity,” said Morning Songbird. “So am I. But this is a contest for which he is far better suited than us. At this point, it’s possible we would make the situation worse if we suddenly—OWUHFF!” Morning Song landed with a jolt, not quite having the wind knocked out of her, but being so startled that it almost achieved the same effect. She blinked in the shock of the warm sunlight for a stunned moment before a slow smile crept across her face. Is that… am I… “Oh, Morning Song, you are back, darling, you are restored!” cried Rarity, who threw her forelegs around the pony lieutenant in a delighted hug. “Oh it is so wonderful to see that nasty magic has… I say, darling, do you hear that?” “MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRM!” “OhmygoodnessIamsosorryRainbowDash!” Rainbow Dash’s screams, severely muffled though they were, had the desired effect of enticing Morning Song to leap off of her with great alacrity. It took some not inconsiderable effort from the two earth ponies present to pry Rainbow Dash free from the cold, wet, muddy earth which had clung to her with such vigor that, when they finally pried her loose, she came free with a *pop* not unlike that of a champaign cork. The pegasus tumbled over backward, or would have if she’d not been caught and sat upright by the attentive Private Oaken. Rainbow shook her head angrily to clean herself of the muck that insisted on clinging to her in spite of her liberation from the cobblestone trap. Oaken kindly helped her clear the mud clogging her nostrils as Morning Song apologized over and over again. “Ser’usly, LT, ib’s fine,” Rainbow Dash assured Song, sniffing and snorting periodically to clear her nasal passages and annoyed that the mud and the impact made her sound like she had a bad cold. “I prob’ly deserved ib for da way I gabe you lip yebsterday.” “Still… I’m so sorry,” replied the officer, wincing and seeming deeply embarrassed. “Ib’m fine,” insisted Dash. “Ib’m just glab you’re back, which means my wings are back.” An awkward silence followed her pronouncement. “Lieutebnant, mby wings are back, righbt?” Rarity took a sudden interest in the sky. Oaken pursed his lips. Song cleared her throat. “Flight Officer Dash, I want you to know that I have every confidence that we will find a way to resolve this situation…” Ignoring Song, the pegasus twisted her head to look. Rainbow Dash screamed. Medevac trotted around the corner to where Redheart continued to tend Spike. A grin was plastered on his face. Redheart felt hope well in her heart, but forced herself to ask the question anyway, just in case. “Well?” she asked. “Never thought I’d appreciate my stump aching every time the weather changes, but I do now! The pains in ole stumpy were right!” declared Medevac, stamping his prosthetic hoof against the floor. “The rain stopped! It’s all clear outside!” Redheart felt her vision swim as she swayed in place. A strong hoof caught her. “Whoa, steady on there, Red. You okay?” “Okay?!” she demanded, a delighted smile taking hold of her face. “Med, I’m better than okay! The sun’s out! That means we won, doesn’t it?” “Sure looks that way,” agreed Medevac. “I mean, we won’t know for sure until…” He trailed off as a driving, mournful, angry sound full of frustration and fury rang muffled through the stones of the cellar. Looking confused, the medic asked the same question Redheart had on her mind. “What is that unearthly sound?” Applejack gasped for air like one revived from the dead and sat bolt upright. Soft loam and damp earth fell away from her as she rose from the bed of earth in which she’d slumbered. In which Ah’d been planted like a dang tree! She shuddered at the recollection. Feeling dampness on her cheeks, she reached up and realized she’d been crying. Around her lay piles of pre-peeled apples that had fallen from her like tears in the rain. Apples that feel from me when Ah… wept? Are those apples my te— She shook her head vehemently, seeking to drive off the strange and disturbing memories. Looking around, she first found her brother, who appeared in a similar state. She caught his gaze, and for a brief instant saw in his eyes a pounding, unrelenting, righteous fury at the one who would harm— But his eyes met hers and softened in relief. She felt her own eyes soften in return. Each reaching over, they embraced, eyes and hooves saying what words could not. Then she sought Fritters. In front of her she saw Marble Slab and Ironhide standing, stretching, and blinking owlishly, shaking their heads like dogs trying to dislodge whatever vermin clung to their skulls. They’re okay, but where’s Fritters? She felt her breath quicken. Oh, Celestia, if something happened to him— “Applejack!” cried Fritters. The thin, whiplike unicorn appeared as if by magic and wrapped her in a tight embrace that shocked her with its strength. Before the hug could reach Pinkie levels of painful, he pulled back, grasped either shoulder with a forehoof, and looked her over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What did Trixie do to you?” Feeling warmth rise in her cheeks, Applejack forced herself to reply slowly and calmly. “Ah’m fine, Fritters. She didn’t hurt nothin’ but mah pride.” And my heart, makin’ me sick with worry over what she threatened to do to you… over what could have happened… “Dzięki Bogu,” exclaimed Fritters, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Thank the Source you are safe. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her, Applejack, I almost had her, and then I… I’m sorry.” “No, Fritters, you ain’t got nothin’ ta apologize for. Ah’m just…” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ah’m just happy yer alright.” Fritters frowned. “You’re crying. Are you sure you’re alright?” Applejack wiped her eyes hurriedly. “Ain’t nothin’, Frit. They’re happy tears now.” Marble chuckled. “We’re fine too, Fritters,” interjected the squat pegasus stallion merrily. “Yeah, yeah, I saw,” groused Fritters. “You’re short, Mac’s big, and Ironhide is Guard-Standard-Issue Adaquate…” he smiled at Applejack and said gently, “and Fair Lady Applejack is smiling. All is right with the world.” Applejack felt the heat in her cheeks rise, reaching critical levels when she caught sight of Big MacIntosh smiling out of the corner of her eye. Clearing her throat, she jabbed Fritters in the chest. “Not so fast, ya Konik reprobate. How are you feeling?” Fritters’ bloodshot eyes widened and he seemed to stare at something far distant over her shoulder as he came to a momentous realization. “Ravenous,” he rasped. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in a year and— oh, hey, a peeled apple.” To Applejack’s horror, Fritters picked up one of the peeled apples which she and Big MacIntosh had been… growing when they were trees. This has been a very disturbing twenty-four hours. Adding another layer to the disturbance, Fritters bit into the apple with obvious relish and an audible, “Mmmm. Gooooood.” Feeling slightly nauseous, Applejack brough one hoof to cover her mouth in disgust. “Ew, Fritters, that’s… that’s gross!” Perplexed, the stallion tilted his head. “What? It’s just a peeled apple. Sure it was on the floor, but…” seeing the look on her face, he paused, “Okay, what am I missing.” “Big Mac an’ Ah got…” Applejack swallowed bile, “transmogrified into trees, Frit. Trees which grew apples without peels. Get tha picture?” Fritters stopped mid-chew, looked at the apple, looked at Applejack, looked at the apple, then opened his mouth and let the bite fall out on the floor with a wet splop. “Whah thah cah frah?” he said, leaving his tongue out as if he didn’t want to let it back inside. Translating his question as ‘where’d they come from,’ Applejack scratched the back of her head and tried to remember what she could from being a tree. That’s now up there on the list of ‘Top 10 Weird Things I Did Not Expect to EVER Have to Do.’ It was a list which had undergone significant alteration since Twilight entered her life. She did not especially want to remember what being a tree was like, but for the sake of Fritters being able to be able to put his tongue away without it turning into a moment of body horror, she tried to concentrate on the fuzzy memories. “Ah think… Ah think they’re mah tears,” she said hesitantly. Then, more confidently – though Ah’d rather not think why Ah’m so confident – “Yeah, them apples were tears.” Fritters considered that new information, looked at the apple, looked at Applejack, then gingerly closed his tongue within his mouth with a shudder. “Would… uh… would it be weird, dark soldier humor, too soon for bad jokes, awkward, and just generally in poor taste if I said your tears are delicious?” The guffaw ambushed Applejack so unexpectedly that it took her a moment to realize that she was the one laughing. Fritters’ remark hadn’t been particularly humorous, but then, it wasn’t that kind of laugh. It was the sort of laugh that comes when the situation is so absurd that laughter becomes one of the only ways to cope. That, combined with Fritters’ contriteness and earnest concern for her, actually eased her tension. She felt her shoulders relax more than they had a moment ago as she laughed. “It’s a mite weird,” she admitted, “but thanks all the same.” “Happy to help,” replied Fritters, gingerly setting the teary apple down. “And, on the upside, I’m not really hungry anymore. At all.” “Wonders never cease,” muttered Marble Slab. Applejack put a hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Well, maybe we should go an’ find out what all went down ta bring us to this little… reunion.” “Agreed,” nodded Fritters, his cavalier attitude giving way to a soldier’s focus. “We can compare notes of what all we experienced on the way. Best place to start is probably…” he trailed off as an unearthly wail echoed through the air, muffled by distance, but loud with bitter outrage, “the best place to start is probably whatever that is.” ‘Whatever that is’ proved to increase dramatically in volume upon meeting with the source of ‘that.’ ‘That,’ of course, being a certain rainbow-maned pegasus. “You’re all back to normal?!” roared Rainbow Dash. “HOW?! How are YOU all back to normal when I’M NOT?! WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE NOT BACK TO NORMAL?!?!” “Calm down, Rainbow Dash—” “Don’t tell me to calm down, Lieutenant Song, you’ve got all your limbs! MINE are presumably still attached to that bucking SHOWMARE like some kind of Nightmare Night COSTUME!” “Well, at least ya weren’t turned inta no apple tree or somethin’!” “Yeah, Applejack? Well at least you didn’t have to sit in a stockade while Trixie beat the snot out of Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie and Ditzy Doo and SPIKE while you just had to sit there and BUCKING WATCH!” “She did WHAT to WHO NOW?! Ah’m gonna frigging KILL ’er!” “And I’ll frigging help!” “ENOUGH!” roared Morning Song. The shock of her outburst immediately silenced the discord, and Rainbow Dash even came to attention on instinct. Applejack, despite having no formal training, did the same. Morning Song stepped between the two, fixing each in turn with her piercing blue gaze. “First of all,” she began quietly, “you two had better hope that nopony in this town can make out what you’re saying, as your vengeful words set a rather poor example for how the heroines of Equestria ought to act.” Her hooded gaze fell hard on Rainbow Dash, and the later swallowed. “That goes doubly for you, Flight Officer Dash.” “Yes, ma’am!” squawked Rainbow Dash. “Sorry, ma’am!” managed Applejack. Song held her gaze upon them for a moment, then, with a voice no less intense for its quietude, she continued, “Second of all, did it ever occur to you that a very likely reason for why the storms have stopped and most of the transmogrifications have ended is that Twilight – sweet Twilight, kind Twilight, merciful Twilight – was forced to take Trixie’s life in order to save the lives of others?” The silence that followed the question was so profound that even the sound of Fritters shifting in place on his hooves echoed like the creak of a rickety door on an empty barn. “I thought not,” said Song softly. “Now, since we do not know what has transpired, where all of our friends are, and what the current state of Trixie is, we are going to stop shouting and start thinking so we can act with sound judgment and not emotion. Marble, please do an aerial reconnaissance of the immediate area and then come back. The rest of us will compare notes and see if we can piece together a picture where everyone else might be.” As it happened, there were fewer notes to compare than any of them would have preferred. None of the ponies who had been with Jacques when he departed for battles unknown knew which direction he’d gone other than the eminently reasonable guess of ‘towards the danger.’ Nopony knew where Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, or Ditzy Doo had gone, as the only ponies who’d been present with them in the town hall at the time of their departure had been assorted foliage, statuary, and other objects at the time. Nopony knew where Trixie had gone for exactly the same reason. Song and Rainbow Dash knew where Medevac, Redheart, and Spike were, but it was agreed that it would be safer for them to remain where they were until Trixie’s current status was confirmed. With no specific leads to follow, Song sent Marble aloft once more to do a wide area search. She and Fritters briefly debated over whether to split up to search or search as a group. They eventually decided that, if Trixie was still an active threat, it would best to travel as one, powerful group, thereby giving them the best chance of overwhelming her. It was a much quieter and more subdued party of ponies that began their search of the town. As it happened, the search began in the wrong direction, which led to them being in a wholly different part of town when Fluttershy, Friar Jacques, and the rest returned to Ponyville proper. The familiar sights and smells of Ponyville did much to soothe Fluttershy’s shaking, but both Ditzy Doo and Pinkie Pie still kept close to her. Twilight broke the silence, asking, “Well, how should we round ponies up once we’re at the library?” Friar Jacques seemed to mull that question over for a moment before replying, “Monsieur Oak, you spoke earlier of knowing where the Nurses Redheart and Medevac are concealed with Young Spike, yes?” “Sure do, Friar. They’re holed up under Berry Punch’s place.” Jacques’ eye fell on Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Ditzy Doo. Fluttershy couldn’t help but quiver under his gaze. Not because she feared him or because his gaze was hard or cold. Rather, it was because she feared she would be called upon to undertake some arduous task when all she really wanted to do was curl up on her couch with a book, a bunny, and a beverage, preferably one of the ‘steaming hot chocolate and spiked with whiskey’ variety. Come on Fluttershy, buck up! she chastised herself. You can’t just hide in your house every time something scary or hard or catastrophic or life-threatening happens. A sardonic part of her added, Mostly because if I took that approach in Ponyville, I’d never leave my house. Such thoughts came to her in the brief instant between when Friar Jacques looked over at the three mares and when he asked, “You ladies know this establishment, I trust?” “Yupperoonie!” chirped Pinkie Pie. “That’s where Ditzy Doo threw a dart and it caused a chain reaction that set me on fire, where I got set on fire by a chain reaction and also on another day convinced a minotaur sellsword to take up a career in the circus, and where Fluttershy learned that there’s a big difference between two percent alcohol, and ten percent alcohol when she accidentally ordered the wrong—” “A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed, Pinkie Pie,” interrupted Friar Jacques with a wince. Fluttershy, having hid behind her mane with embarrassment, was grateful for the interruption. “If you were to be ever so kind as to retrieve them and bring them all to the library, that would be most welcome.” “You sure that’s wise, Friar?” asked Burnt Oak. “Trixie did a number on the poor drake. Ah’d hate ta put him back in horn’s reach of her.” Judging by the expression on Twilight’s face, Fluttershy could tell she was thinking the same thing. With a tired sigh, Jacques replied, “I’m afraid we have little choice, mon amie. Based on what you all have told me, the injury to Spike is Dark Magic in nature. Only Redheart and myself have the magic to handle it, just as I need Redheart and Medevac’s assistance in keeping Miss Lulamoon unconscious until we can attend to the amulet. All our expertise for treating friend and foe alike in this circumstance is concentrated in the same three people. Zecora’s potion should hold until we can find a more long-term way of keeping her asleep. And, if not…” he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, his expression grim, “we will ensure Spike’s safety, and our own.” Fluttershy’s mind flashed with images of Trixie overcoming the potion, awaking, shaking off the bonds of sleep as the dreadful power returned… only for the flash of Friar Jacques’ blade to cut her life short. Feeling ill, she started towards the cellar where the nurses and their patient hid. The longer we debate, the greater the chance Friar Jacques will have to… we can’t delay. “We’ll bring them, Friar,” she said, her voice unwavering. Fluttershy strode with purpose, unaware that her shaking and quivering had ceased. Friar Jacques briefly watched Fluttershy depart with Pinkie Pie and Ditzy Doo, then turned for the library. “She has grown much in these past weeks,” he remarked softly. His eyes fell on Twilight, who walked beside him. “All of you have. You are blessed, Twilight, to be a remarkable mare, surrounded by remarkable friends.” Twilight lowered her head, not wanting to meet his gaze. “If I amount to anything, it’s because of them,” she replied. “Still… I wish my friends did not need to grow up so much. I wish this… Darkness hadn’t come into our lives. I wish…” she trailed off for a long moment, “…I wish.” Friar Jacques was silent for a moment, seeking the words that would console her, would give her a sense of the meaning in her struggle. He was not so foolish as to think he could say the perfect phrase and make her suddenly cheerful, but he likewise knew that one could endure great hardship if only some meaning could be drawn from it. And there is no evil so dark that God cannot bring light from it. For it was from the greatest evil ever done that God brought salvation, turning even death against itself. “Our world is a broken one, Twilight,” he said quietly. “Broken by sin and evil. In such a world, trials are inevitable. Your trials have been harder than most. Yet the good you and your friends have done has by God’s grace sanctified you. For, in facing these trials as you have, you accept the virtues you are given and participate in the salvation that was won for you. More, the good you do awakens goodness in others, and in so doing you accomplish the will of the Father who is in Heaven.” His gaze fell upon her once more, and he was pleased to see that she returned his gaze this time. “Someone must bear these burdens, and in bearing them you have spared others the burden. In so doing, you have grown. You and your friends have become truer versions of yourselves, purer versions of yourselves in all these trials, and so have become more fully alive. Without the struggles that test and refine you, your lives may be more outwardly placid, but I doubt very much that you would find fulfillment in them. You are meant for more.” His words were chosen carefully. All people, he knew, were meant for more than mere trivial existence. They - we - are meant to grow in virtue, to grow in fellowship, to thrive, to love and be loved. In the words of Saint Irenaeus, ‘The glory of God is man fully alive.’ But there had been times in his priestly ministry where it would have been unwise in that moment to say ‘you are meant for more’ to the person he was counselling, however true it was. Not everyone who was suffering would hear such words in the way that they were intended. That time would come, but not always quickly or easily. Many needed the truth stated differently, or even in that moment simply to have a shoulder to cry on for a time before any advice could be heard and taken to heart. Charity sometimes required patience, and many untold days of helping hurting souls to bear their grief or anger until such time as they were ready to hear a kindly word. A reassurance or lesson ill-timed or ill-spoken was seldom heartening, and often distressing. But Jacques judged that Twilight was ready for such words. She was constantly seeking meaning, purpose, and she knew it. Her guilt over – in her mind – ‘dragging’ her friends into danger was a guilt best answered by the truth, one taught him by his own mother many decades ago. Even now he remembered her words: My child, to each person upon the earth comes the call to love God and be loved by God, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself. To each person upon the earth comes a particular vocation – the unique call of how to love and be loved. It is in answering that call, my child, that we come alive. Twilight and her friends had been called to love in an extraordinary way. Far from dragging her friends along, she was drawing them towards their true selves. The young mare was quiet for a time, mulling over his words as they walked. Then she gave a short, tired laugh and said, “Well, things certainly are always lively around here.” More contemplatively, she added, “And you’re right. My life has never been richer. I was empty before, hungry before, and now…” the look of peace that crossed her features, though full of exhaustion and framed by dark rings beneath her eyes and mud-spattered features, was genuine, “I— no, we are more than we were.” Friar Jacques felt happiness rise in his heart, mingled with sadness, for he knew that Twilight and her friends would only grow in the trials to come… and that the trials would be great. “Indeed you are, Lady Twilight. Indeed you are.” It did not take long for Fluttershy and the others to find Redheart, Medevac, and the still-unconscious Spike. While not thrilled about the notion of bringing Spike into the same place as Trixie, the two nurses also recognized that there weren’t really any better options. Both Redheart and Medevac were needed to keep Trixie sedated – Redheart for her magic, and Medevac because his experience as a combat medic had taught him a lot about sedation and its interaction with magic, including cases where he’d had to deal with victims of Dark Magic. Their respective training, as well as recent events, meant they were the current experts in Ponyville when it came to performing medicine while dealing with Dark Magic. And both of them were the most qualified in town in non-pony medicine, save only Zecora, who was currently gathering more supplies. As Friar Jacques had said, the two nurses were the most qualified to handle Trixie and the most qualified to handle Spike. Thus, the reluctant nurses and their unconscious patient accompanied Fluttershy and her companions down into Twilight’s laboratory. At the sight of Spike, Friar Jacques’ eyes had softened unto tears, and Fluttershy had felt a palpable sorrow and regret radiating off the old man. Still, his sense of duty did not slacken. After a brief but heartfelt greeting to Medevac and his Bonne Sœur Redheart, he set about helping them both in tending to Spike and – of more imminent importance – seeing to it that Trixie remained incapacitated. In setting about these tasks, he spared but a moment to ask Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Ditzy Doo to find the rest of the Bearers and soldiers and bring them to the lab. While Fluttershy would have much preferred to stay and help tend to Spike – and, if she was being frank, to sit down and shake uncontrollably with pent-up emotions – she knew there was little for the three of them to do but find the others. Once more walking the streets of Ponyville, Fluttershy was struck by how deserted the town was. Intellectually she knew – and was grateful – that the residents were sheltering in their ‘Tuesday Bunkers.’ Until the storm passed, it was wise that they remain there. The metaphorical storm, that is, she thought with a glance at the now thankfully placid skies. Still, she could not help but find the utter quietude of the place unsettling. I know I’m not the most outgoing of ponies, but this place, she shivered, …it feels like a ghost town. “Sure is quiet,” remarked Pinkie Pie. The bounce had finally returned to the pink mare’s step, but Fluttershy noticed she wasn’t bouncing as high as she typically did. “Quiet and peaceful.” She nudged Fluttershy gently. “Just like you like it, right, Fluttershy?” Not like this, thought Fluttershy dourly. ‘Deserted’ isn’t the same thing as ‘peaceful.’ But she didn’t want to upset Pinkie, so she said, “Um… sure.” Pinkie winced, seeming to realize she’d said something wrong. Her smile became a little more forced as she continued brightly, “You… uh… you did a really good job distracting Trixie earlier, you know. That was a really good accent you put on, and it woulda worked out great if the stupid amulet hadn’t—” Images of Pinkie getting blasted through the wall of a building and Trixie’s murderous eyes flashed across Fluttershy’s vision. The yellow pegasus shut her eyes against the intrusive images and held up a forestalling hoof. “Pinkie I… I don’t want to talk about it, please. If… if that’s all right with you, that is.” Opening her eyes, Fluttershy saw Pinkie looking at her contritely. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” said the pink mare. “I wasn’t thinking. I just…” she shrugged. “I just don’t like seeing you so frowny especially since… since things are gonna be all right now, right? I mean, Jacquesie is back, Trixie is unconscious, everypony’s meeting up… it’s gonna be okay now, right?” The way Pinkie said it suggested she thought it was a done deal, but Fluttershy knew that a happy ending was by no means guaranteed, even at this stage. I think my friends are out of danger, are hopefully out of danger, but Trixie… Trixie… It would almost be easier if I could hate her. Then I wouldn’t care what happens to her. Her memory returned to the agony she saw in Trixie’s eyes at the quarry. The fear. The grief. The loss. The loss of her career, the loss of her control. The loss of herself. I can’t hate her. I shouldn’t hate her. Even if she’d meant to do everything she did, it would still be wrong to hate her. And, after seeing her pain, seeing how lost she is… how can I not pity her? Even now, she could still lose her life. So, when Pinkie assured her that everything was going to be all right, Fluttershy wanted to feel Pinkie’s surety. But she couldn’t. And, when she looked at Pinkie, she realized the pink mare couldn’t really feel it either. Pinkie’s confidence is just as empty as mine. All she could manage to say, to Pinkie, to Ditzy, even to herself, was “I hope so.” They walked in silence after that. How long the silence lasted – or how long they walked – Fluttershy could not have guessed. But she did know how the silence ended: they turned the corner, and found the ponies they were looking for. All of them. There was a brief moment where both parties simply stared at each other, as if stunned into disbelief that they had all survived. To Fluttershy’s own surprise, she was the first to speak. “Um… hi.” “YOU’RE OKAY!” cried Rainbow Dash, who did not need her wings to reach Fluttershy first and take her in a hug that rivaled one of Pinkie’s. The others were hot on her heels. A cavalcade of questions followed, with those relating to Trixie’s present state and the nature of her capture – asked most consistently and most insistently by the soldiers – being the ones that Fluttershy prioritized in her answers. “She’s knocked out and being held in Twilight’s laboratory,” the yellow pegasus managed when she was able to get a word in edgewise. “Mister Burnt Oak found Nurse Redheart and Nurse Medevac and they are helping make sure Trixie stays unconscious until we can figure out what to do. We’re… um… we’re supposed to meet at the laboratory, if you don’t mind.” As it happened, none of them minded. Down in Twilight’s laboratory beneath the main floor of the Golden Oak Library, Redheart and Medevac were busy hooking Trixie up to a series of IV drips to both keep her unconscious and to supply her with nutrients whilst in that state. Redheart tried to not think too hard about sickly feeling she got from the Dark necklace around Trixie’s neck, though that proved difficult when she had to work around Rainbow Dash’s wings. “So, Twilight…” she began, as much to distract herself from Rainbow’s stolen limbs as anything else, “why exactly do you have so much medical equipment around here. I mean,” she gestured to the setup, “vitals monitors, anesthetics, IVs... you could run an ER from your lab.” Twilight briefly looked up from the dozen books she had floating around her in an array. “It’s, um, well…” Twilight scratched the back of her head, “Princess Celestia sort of… insisted after a certain… incident at the School for Gifted Unicorns involving… let’s just say that I was half deaf for a few months and it took even longer for my hair to grow back.” Sensing that Twilight was closing the book on that particular topic, Redheart settled for a diplomatic, “Fair enough,” and returned to her work. Not that there was much left to do. They’d hooked Trixie up, so all that was left for Redheart and Medevac was to monitor vitals (and Spike, who was resting on a couch on the far side of the room). The lack of any immediate task to perform left her feeling superfluous once again. Judging by the way Friar Jacques paced, he felt the same way. “Well, Friar, are you feeling just as—” “Shh!” Jacques hushed her, not breaking his stride. Redheart recoiled slightly. Did he just ‘shush’ me? He never shushes ponies. Was I bothering him that much? “I apologize for my rudeness, Bonne Sœur, but I am in the midst of formulating a plan and cannot afford distractions,” explained the friar briskly, not breaking stride. “Fair enough,” sighed Redheart. Okay, he’s not feeling superfluous. She looked around for Burnt Oak and found him sitting in a corner nearby, looking at ease, but with his crossbow still trained on Trixie. Just in case. So… as for feeling superfluous, that’s just me then. Wonderful. She frowned, feeling petty for worrying over her own desire to be useful when there were so many more critical things at stake, but still feeling like dead weight all the same. She briefly considered trying to use her magic on the amulet before dismissing it as a roundly stupid idea. Though it would be an ironic twist for Friar Jacques to be the one chiding me about being reckless for a change. The brief amusement she felt at this thought lasted only a moment before lapsing once more into feeling useless. “Hurry up and wait,” said Medevac quietly, resignation and humor mingling in his voice. Redheart looked up at his words, and he smiled sympathetically. “That was always the hardest thing overseas, you know. Feeling like you oughta be doin’ something about all the nasty stuff going down, but knowing you can’t do a thing but hurry up and wait.” Redheart felt a warm smile rise unbidden to her lips. “I suppose we’re in this together then.” He flashed his teeth in a grin and winked. “Nopony I’d rather be in the thick of this with.” Blushing, Redheart glanced down. She cleared her throat and brushed a loose lock of hair back over one ear, then let her eyes rise once more to meet his. “You saying you want me around in every crisis?” she said teasingly. “Truthfully… I’d rather remove the ‘crisis’ part from that equation,” replied Medevac. Feeling warmth well in her chest and a deepening blush in her cheeks, Redheart opened her mouth to answer— —only for the door to the basement to bang open and disgorge nearly a dozen ponies into the laboratory. “Friar Jacques!” cried Rainbow excitedly from the top of the stairs. “Twilight!” cried Rarity from just behind her. “My friends!” cried Twilight, rushing to meet them. “You’re all cured—” “Hey!” “—except for Rainbow Dash which is very strange but also kind of fascinating—” “Hey!” “—but mostly strange and unfortunate but the rest of you are cured!” As the expected reunions transpired – with Pinkie briefly zipping over to the nurses, leaving a cake reading ‘We’re Happy to See You Too But None of Us Want to Bother Nurses on the Job’ on a nearby table – Redheart sighed. Well, I guess that killed the moment. Not that I’m entirely certain where I wanted the moment to go… I mean, we are friends… and co-workers, and this is a lousy time to be thinking about this, and maybe I’m reading too much into it, but if he isn’t then— “Dinner?” Redheart’s eyes widened and she turned her head slowly towards her fellow nurse, not certain she had heard him correctly, not even certain if he’d really spoken, and too afraid to ask. “What I mean to say,” said Medevac slowly, his eyes seeming to want to look away and only kept on hers by iron will, “is would you like to go to dinner with me?” He paused. Redheart’s mouth felt oddly dry. “As a date, I mean, not as when we… usually go to dinner just as…” he cleared his throat and looked around, “and maybe this wasn’t the best time to ask,” he gestured to Trixie, “what with the supervillain here,” he then pointed to Spike, “and with Spike still unconscious, and with wherever this zany crisis is going and… this was really bad timing for me to ask, I mean, really bad timing, even by Marine Corps standards, even by Ponyville medical provider standards this was still just in astonishingly poor taste to ask you out right this second, I mean, we are standing over a captive megalomaniac here, and you think I’d have the sense to wait until…” He continued rattling off all the reasons why he’d shown a remarkably poor sense of timing, but, in truth, Redheart only half heard him. Her thoughts were a blur and butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she crossed the distance between them without feeling the movement. Maybe my sense of appropriate timing is just as shot as his. That’s Ponyville medicine for you. Lightly, she cut his words off with a touch of her hoof to his lips, then said, “Dinner with you sounds wonderful.” Medevac blinked rapidly, a foolish grin spreading across his face. “Really?” An answering smile made itself known on her features. “It’s a date.” “It’s a date,” he echoed happily. Then, clearing his throat and coughing slightly, he indicated the patients and said, “We should… probably make sure everything’s okay. You know, so we can… go… um… for dinner. Later. As a date.” Stifling a giggle, Redheart replied, “Indeed we should.” The mood following the reunion was considerably more dour. Friar Jacques found himself standing in a circle around the unconscious showmare with the Bearers, the nurses, the soldiers, and Big MacIntosh. Ditzy Doo had left to start making the rounds and let ponies know that the situation was under control (but they should still stay in their bunkers). Burnt Oak – having handed off some of his armament and the duty of watching Trixie to the soldiers – had gone to retrieve weapons for those who had not had them when they’d been captured, as well as to bring Granny Smith up to speed. The soldiers – along with Rainbow and the Apples – seemed primed to use their weapons at the first hint of trouble. Jacques hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but could not fault their caution. Twilight, Jacques noted, had put away her weapons, though not her armor. What that portended, he could not say. Once they’d all been caught up on their respective challenges – at least as far as the Ponyville challenges were concerned; Canterlot’s were not mentioned – they’d lapsed into grim silence as they pondered the question of the amulet. “So, in all them fancy books,” Applejack began, rubbing her eyes in what might have been frustration, tiredness, or both, “ya didn’t find one bit o’ info on this Alicorn Amulet?” “Nothing we didn’t already know,” confirmed Twilight with an annoyed snort. “Between this and the Sha— that other matter,” she caught herself at the last moment, remembering the nurses weren’t briefed on the Shades, “I’m beginning to think this library is woefully understocked when it comes to early Equestrian history and obscure magics.” “Then the best course of action would seem to be keeping her asleep until we can find a workaround,” declared Morning Song. “Redheart? Medevac? How long can we keep her under?” Redheart and Medevac looked at each other, seeming to silently confer before answering. Jacques thought he noticed a change in their body language with each other – a certain shyness, combined with a seemingly paradoxical closeness that wasn’t there before. I hope I am not imagining things. They are a fine pair, and would make for a good husband and wife, as well as good parents. I wonder if it would be a conflict of Rites for me to perform their marriage ceremony? He shook off the distracting and self-indulgent thoughts and forced himself to focus on the nurses’ answer. “Well, the good news is that Equestrian medicine has hit the point where we could theoretically do this indefinitely with a normal pony,” Redheart began. “But,” Medevac continued, “we’re talking about a pony with an ultra-powerful tainted magical doodad. Her thaumatic field is all out of whack,” he gestured to one of the beeping monitors which displayed very erratic rhythms, “and it’s a miracle she didn’t hit a full feedback loop with her magic. It was definitely overdrawing on her magical field, worse than what the Konik Plague does,” he flicked an ear at Fritters. “Frankly, if she’d kept going, she probably would have hit Ghoul Syndrome territory.” All the unicorns present winced, as did Friar Jacques, whose studies of Equestrian magic had painted a very grim picture of that particular condition. The Shade who attacked Comtesse Argent Sabre and Miss Raven at the palace was apparently one miscast spell away from dying to his own magics even before Princess Celestia slew him. God forgive him and preserve this lost soul from the same fate. “Bottom line,” concluded Redheart, “we simply don’t know if the current level of medication will keep her under. Right now, she’s unconscious and that doesn’t look like it’s going to change any time soon. But, with the amulet in play, she could wake up no matter how much of this stuff we’ve already pumped into her bloodstream. Short of significantly upping the dose – which still might not be enough and would cause damage to her body – I don’t know what we can do to keep her under.” “We could always brain her again,” remarked Rainbow Dash. She had not taken her eyes off the showmare since the circle formed, and her voice was as cold as her gaze. Fluttershy shot the blue pegasus a censorious glance, and Rainbow – still without shifting her gaze – replied in the same flat tone, “Do not give me that look. I’m not talking about vengeance. I’m not talking about killing. I’m talking containment. She took my wings, transmogrified half of us, punched you until the blood came out, and tried to kill Pinkie, Twilight, and Spike. I think I am showing remarkable restraint by not kicking the literal crap out of her, so do not start with me.” “She wasn’t in control, Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight quietly. “That is a fair and important point that I will care about later when I’ve cooled off.” A sleepy male voice interrupted, asking, “Issit even possible to kick the crap outta som’pony?” Jacques and the others turned to see Spike sitting up, rubbing blearily at his eyes. At the sight of the young dragon rousing from his unwilling slumber, Jacques felt a great weight lift from his chest. Breathing came easier, and he stood taller than he had a moment before. Thank you, Lord, for preserving the life of your little one. “SPIKE!” cried Twilight, who startled Jacques by seeming to step through the shadows to reach her ward’s side. It seems she made good on her promise to me to advance in the practical application of her studies whilst I was away. As the others moved to follow Twilight, Jacques’ voice restrained them. “Hold fast, my friends! Do not overwhelm the poor lad!” Besides, he thought as he heard Twilight sobbing and cradling the dragon, apologizing over and over for what had happened to him and how it was ‘her fault’… I think the two of them deserve a moment to themselves. In order to distract the group – and achieve some practical end in the meantime – he addressed the others, saying, “I have a notion of how we might remove the amulet whilst Trixie still slumbers. Now that young Master Spike as awoken, we may put this plan in motion.” Redheart raised an eyebrow. “Is this the plan you were working on earlier when I interrupted you?” “Yes, Bonne Sœur.” And you will hate it. “It begins with a letter to Princess Luna.”