Ocellus dragged Butters by the hoof, skidding past corners across the crystalline floor, and to one of the more remote bathrooms on that level of the building. By a mirror they stopped, the changeling attempting to transmute shock into anger for strength in facing that pony monster, and the monster itself entertained, checking herself out in the stained mirrors. There was a moment of internal deliberation where Ocellus stood frozen in what to do. It felt foolish even to talk to her again. Remembering what Cozy was served as the only sense of mental protection she had against her deception and trickery.
After a selfish look at herself, Cozy turned to face Ocellus. She encroached on the other with a lean forwards, a squint, and asked, “Do I know you?”
I’m not falling for that, Ocellus said but not loudly, then normally, “I recognize it’s you.”
Cozy didn’t respond. Her reason for not doing so was ostensibly because she didn’t know what the older creature was implying or even who she was, but after watching Ocellus do nothing besides sway between weight-bearing legs, catching herself fall into the repetitive motion, then ceasing all activity in her muscles, Cozy tossed her a bone. “Busy day? Wait, don’t tell me… We met on a train ride, during autumn a few years back! You and I chatted, and I revealed a bit more than what strangers should know about me. A lot of that was pretty personal, but I needed to vent a bit about my tragic life because I was pretty upset that day, and, well, you probably sniffed it out by the look on your face that I remembered. I’m all calm now so that’s why I smell normal.”
A playful smirk on Cozy tried to set the tone, but Ocellus wouldn’t relent her guard. “Why are you here?”
“Because I need a job?” Cozy said. “I’d love to spend all my hours being a mother and baking and teaching but I’m afraid to say that snuggling my daughter doesn’t pay the bills. This is the next best thing.”
Ocellus had completely forgotten about that filly by Cozy’s side last they met. What dynamic or roles those two had to each other kept her up on the night following their last encounter because it just didn’t make sense unless… “What happened to…”
“Lustie? She’s fine,” Cozy said. “Healthy, somehow. But no, she’s fine.”
“Right, and she’s being taken care of?”
“As much as she lets me.” Cozy shrugged.
“Being well fed?”
“A bit too well fed, but her metabolism makes up for it. Jelly.”
“She looked like a skeleton the last time I saw her,” Ocellus pressed.
“Being undead would explain the stench,” Cozy half-joked, half-whined.
“What?”
“Listen,” Cozy said, pressing on the sink’s tap. “My name is Butter Skies. I’m here to get a job to provide my filly with a soft bed and a bright future. I don’t cause trouble for creatures that don’t get in my way. Let me be clear: there’s nothing for you to worry about. Relax. You really should.” Cozy walked towards the exit. “But if you want to hang out, I’m always open.” She winked.
“…Couldn’t you have gone to Friendship U.?”
Cozy flicked the wet tips of her wings at Ocellus’ face, dousing her in a drizzle. “Don’t be silly! I can’t stand working closely with… those two,” she stated vitriolically. “They pay well though. Better than here, hah!”
Cozy entered the hallway with Ocellus on her tail. The latter said, “You know Twilight comes here often?”
“Wouldn’t that be an honor to meet her!”
“The Sisters come around occasionally.”
“Okay.”
“Flurry and Candance?”
“Their schedules are—probably—busy for the next two months even though I’m sure they’ve made a couple of commitments. I wouldn’t count on those.”
“Disco—”
Cozy shushed Ocellus by smacking a wing over her lip. She looked behind and around herself then back at the other. Resuming her character: “When is anypony ever free from that chaotic bully?”
“…What about the Cutie Mark Crusaders? They pop around sometimes.”
“Are you trying to make me upset?” Cozy asked. “Please, I’ve had years to get over my missed opportunities. You’re so salty for an ex-drone.”
Cozy turned her head forwards, away from Ocellus who, taken aback by a rare mention of her own past, slugged in her steps. As the former faced the front, she bumped into a chest full of feathers and flapped her wings back. Pink and Princess-sized with sharp claws, Silverstream, had appeared from the hallway’s corner and Butters was too focused to pay attention. It’s been a few years since she’s done anything of this scale. The pegasus dusted her blouse and hovered to reach an equal eye level.
Silverstream spoke before Cozy could. “You’re that mare we met on the train that Ocellus felt weird about!”
The shock that escaped Cozy’s managed to push her pupils towards a wall for a brief second. “You—have a great memory! Yep, that’s me! Butter Skies: loitering mare looking for a job.”
“Wow, Equestria’s so small,” Silverstream said. She noticed Ocellus. “You two were catching up!” She hid under her arms. “Did I interrupt that? I can go.”
“No, stay!” Ocellus asserted. “I was actually going to take ‘Skies’ here to grab a bite. A quick one, before the next tour. Shouldn’t be that busy.”
“Aren’t you going the wrong way?” Cozy asked, a pretend look of uncertainty placed on her face as if the School’s most infamous expulsion was clueless as to where anything or everything was. She could traverse from one end of the campus to the other, blindfolded, through windows and vents, avoiding the sound of creatures she recognized, owed to the preparations of leftover plans for Equestria’s domination plotted when she was a filly—those never went anywhere—from late nights spared of studying by early bird under candlelight in a room absent of a bunkmate (Cozy used to have one; they filed a complaint to the school because of a snoring somepony but caught a nasty strain of both salmonella and E. coli the next morning. Cozy was kind enough to organize the class a hospital visit).
The mare led the way with Ocellus following behind, and Silverstream also but cheerfully. When Cozy brushed through the cafeteria doors, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Freshly mopped floors between a maze of tables and benches with wet floor signs as the mines preceding the enemy counter manned by a lunch pony who looked extra miserable today, engrossed in a magazine.
Cozy sat on the nearest seat. “I brought my own lunch.” And she pulled out a cup of noodles stolen from Luster’s kitchen cabinet. That marked twice that she stole from her daughter today, though Cozy intended to buy a set of six squared packets later as an apology replacement, or if she didn’t notice, a gift. She poured, into the cup, water from the bottle she pulled from her bag (now a purse) and mixed the flavoring powder and magical oil causing an exothermic reaction that heated the broth, producing a pop and small geyser.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t eat here,” Cozy continued, mixing the ingredients with the plastic fork between the tip-feathers of her left wing. “The food in this place nearly destroyed the stomach of a pony I knew. Y’know staff and students in the Crystal Empire’s enjoy freshly sourced produce, young Yaks in their schools don’t have to pay, and those Kirin plus wherever Mistmane comes from have different stalls with all sorts of eclectic cultures, and culinary variety.” She took a bite and added with protruding cheeks, “Like mini food courts.” Swallowed. “Gosh, this is spicy!”
As Cozy checked the cup to see if they changed the ingredients of the instant meal she knew, Ocellus glanced at the bag dividing her from Cozy, with Silverstream sat opposite, and slowly used the tip of her hoof to prop the top lip of the opened zipper. A pink wing shoved itself inside and opened it fully for the nosy changeling to inspect. Tissues, a banana, an A6 notebook, a brown mug clearly molded by a foal with permanent maker-written words reading “Equestria’s Baddest Mom”—Ocellus had no clue on what to make of that—a telephone, and other sundries, were the only objects she could spot in Cozy’s bag that had a bottom. And also an hourglass-shaped water bottle which Cozy pulled back out, sparing no looks towards the other, squeezing a jet of water through the narrow nozzle into her mouth. Her lips were pepper red, her nostrils became drippy and her saliva thick.
Cozy, in a spice-induced mania, took out her phone, flipped it open, and texted her daughter, missing none of the keys, asking whether she heard of a recipe change in the noodles she usually bought, not giving away too soon that she stole a cup. Luster responded immediately in a language of colorful hieroglyphics. Her mother understood none of it.
“Are you alright?” Silverstream asked. Cozy was tapping away, panting. Water only made her stomach feel bloated. “What are you doing?”
“Calling my daughter,” Cozy said. “You wanted to hear she’s doing well, right Celly?”
Celly… Ocellus still wasn’t a fan of that nickname—too sugary bordering on a pet name—at least not when coming out of that mouth.
Two rings and the filly picked up.
“Why do you sound like your mouth’s on fire?” Luster asked, rushing out the sentence with a puff through her nostrils as if a funny thought was pacing around her mind.
Cozy hadn’t said a word and furrowed at the phone, which Luster couldn’t see but the other two creatures could. That confirmed her suspicions on tampering. “Did you place some sort of ‘spicy exacerbation’ spell on our food?”
“You mean on my food?”
“I share my snacks with you!”
“Yeah, but I always ask for permission first.”
“You don’t! You ate all my brownies last Saturday.”
“That’s because you always say yes, and I know you wouldn’t say no. I know you. I know you very well. I say no sometimes. ”
“Of course you do…” Cozy padded a tissue against a layer of sweat forming around her lips, now stained red with soup. “So that’s a yes?”
“I don’t see why that’s important unless you’ve stolen something from me, but that would be really bad parenting.”
“I forgot which cabinet was yours—I was in a rush okay?”
“Liar. You never forget.”
“Lustie.”
“Okay fine, I placed a spicy spell on my own noodles, but it’s not my fault you stole them! That’s your own fault.”
“You understand today’s very important for me, right?”
“You probably don’t want to hear about the laxative spell I also placed.” Foal laughs proceeded as Cozy’s eyes twitched. She thought, she must be kidding, but revived memories of her daughter’s past “incidents” placed that thought into question. She rivaled her mother in cruelty, though in her own more playful subset; she nevertheless lived without inhibition or sanity—unlike Cozy, who was very sane and restrained—and while her mother’s most active months were under the wing of some good-destined pony or goat, where apologies were uttered every other action to paint herself as some weak insecure filly or mare, Luster never apologized.
“Sorry, I was joking,” Luster said. “Actually, no, I’m not. Maybe. Which one’s the lie, Mom? You should be able to guess since you’re a—”
“Dear, you’re on speaker. Remember Ocellus and Silverstream? From the train ride a few years ago? Back when the fires you set were accidental? They’re here with me now,” Cozy said. “Ocellus was actually wondering about you!” Cozy passed the phone to the wondering creature, but she kept quiet.
“Hi, Ocellus.” Luster paused. “So… you weren’t wondering about how I was doing?” She sobbed very fake sobs.
Cozy said, “You had me blocked until last—”
“Is it cozy in whatever room you’re in?” Luster asked.
“…”
“Cozy?” Luster repeated. “Does it have a lovely glow?”
“Okay, bye dear,” Cozy said, ending the call with a kissing sound and a sigh once the connection was severed. She slammed her head onto the table. “I forgot to ask about her foalsitter…”
“Luster never said hi to me…” Silverstream said, turning to Ocellus.
“She remembers the colder impressions more,” Cozy enlightened. “Does that answer your doubts, Celly?”
“…She lets you hug her?” Ocellus asked. “You said earlier you’d snuggle with her all day if it could pay the bills.”
Cozy rolled her head along the table and looked up. “Fine. You caught me.” She raised her wings into the air. “I lied. I only came here to take a break from my daughter. Getting a proper job is therapy that pays… in half-bits, at least around here.”
“You became a teacher to destress?” Ocellus asked.
“…Yes.”
“Oh, don’t get her worried,” Silverstream said to Ocellus, and placed a claw on a hoof Cozy had resting on the table. “I’m sure you’ll love it here! I’m hoping Starlight accepts you.”
“I know Starlight will accept me,” Cozy said as she lifted her head back up, twisting a wing over the withers of the headmare whose surprise had been thwarted, patting twice.
Starlight allowed the wing to stay. Any unicorn could use a sheet of warmth on a cold late-winter morning, though the mare wasn’t bare; she had a cyan collared undershirt, a velvet long-legged wool jacket, and a dress of a darker shade. Her age was starting to show; Cozy was glad. She wondered why none of these good-doers ever resorted to an age-reduction spell, which should’ve sat comfortably in Starlight’s skill range; perhaps she knew immortality as a curse, but that wasn’t a reason to not at least use an illusion to cover up those wrinkles.
There were different types of immortality: the one where you gain control over when you die and how, and the one without limits, death or life, a punishment where you’re stripped of the ability to make choices, a voice, an experience that made haunting Tartarus preferable, and Cozy had visited Tartarus; noisy, humid Tartarus, hot with howling monsters, each of whose sole crime was being what they were, without the cognition to make up for it. Touch-starved and pathetic. Except for her and Tirek. There was a reason they sat on the highest ledge. And also limbo. There’s a difference between joining a collective consciousness and an eternal white room, Rockhoof!
It must’ve been some sort of embracement culture or perhaps because mages become more powerful as they age and so a lovely stereotype emerged. Cozy scanned Starlight’s look again, more intensely as she did during the interview. A goofy soft smile upon lilac lips—how terrifying! Luckily, Cozy’s train of thought ran quickly so the air being awkward could be faulted to Ms. Obvious.
Starlight spoke. “You’ve passed the interview stage alright, but there are a couple of other hurdles before you get hired. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Cozy assured. “Background checks and test runs are no hassle if it means keeping our foals and youth safe from whatever insidious monsters lurk beneath the shadows—” She side-eyed at Ocellus. “—waiting to enact some glorious plan.”
“Precisely!” Starlight said, oblivious. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” She whispered, “I’m rooting for you!”
“But of course,” Ocellus interjected, “Starlight will be objective and take all of our impressions into consideration.”
“Of course,” Starlight said. “You won’t have to worry about Trixie’s vote though. She’s a big fan of your muffins.”
“They’re my secret weapon!” Cozy said. “Don’t tell the Princesses or I’ll be locked into servitude.”
Starlight laughed.
Cozy added, “I’m serious. I’ve seen it happen.”
Starlight interrupted her laugh with a cough. “Well, I have a few more interviews to get through later,” she said. “Your visitor's pass should be valid till the end of the day so feel free to wander around. Make a few friends. There’s a student-run café on the—”
“Actually,” Ocellus said, “our next tour is about to start—” Silverstream eyed the nearest clock. “—so why don’t you join us? A comprehensive supervised walk around the school that you’ve never visited before because this is your first day.”
Cozy rolled her eyes and smirked like a mother being pulled from her friends to be shown her filly’s cardboard time machine. She wore her bag and flew to discard her half-eaten noodle cup, pouring the soup down a long trough sink and tossing the rest into a bin. “Well, we better hurry up then. Smolder must be waiting for you two. That is her name, right?”
Ocellus walked over and Silverstream flew. “Right,” said the changeling, and they left Starlight to her lunch, also brought from home.
The sun shone through the graphic windows of the school. Ocellus watched Cozy's hovering limbs to make sure she didn't try to trip her down the stairs. They approached the new group waiting for them, being three minutes late; Smolder managed to entertain the group with a few generic questions and glared at the two, and was a bit surprised when she saw Butters.
“We should stop by that café Starlight mentioned. You two haven’t had a bite to eat.” Cozy pouted; her stomach growled. “I’m still a bit hungry myself.”
Ocellus stayed silent. She felt obliged to watch Cozy though she didn’t have to; she could have raised a word then and now and the fugitive would be met with her very own response team, teleported straight in from Canterlot, trained by Flash Magnus and commanded by Gallus, who would cut a claw for such an opportunity. Though maybe that’d be too predictable. Cozy wasn’t that sort of stupid. She always had a plan, and perhaps her reporting is part of that plan—a lure. And what would happen to that filly? Their dynamic was… mysterious. Cozy couldn't have Luster actually out of her control; she wooed the Princess when she was nine turning ten, and when she was eleven, she destroyed Canterlot Castle, alongside Tirek and…
“Lost in thought, Celly?” Cozy asked as the group she was meant to help guide walked (or flew) past; Silverstream picked up the figurative mic.
“No, yeah,” Ocellus said.
“That café wasn’t there back then in my day. Of course not that I remember hearing from that friend of mine; I’ve never studied here a day in my life.” Cozy hovered lower in case Ocellus was tired of looking up (a cheeky habit carried over from her foalhood). “I was serious about you needing to relax. I’m only here for a job.”
“Have a golly—oh.” Mom hung up. Luster shrugged and plopped her phone into her jacket pocket, turned ninety degrees, and continued her stroll around the central food district of Canterlot, sightseeing all of the different restaurants. But did she have enough bits to buy what she wanted? She stopped walking and closed her eyes. A locked metal box appeared in front of her, contained in her amber glow. She opened it with a spell—click!—and sorted the bits inside as she walked around the streets. Snow piled around the edges of the buildings with pegasi still shoveling the roofs, but the paths were salted.
Somepony screamed—a trio actually—from the side: a white unicorn, purple mane, but difficult to discern from the sea of creatures. Luster wasn’t sure if she was even the one that screamed, because the thief's claws weren't on her. The figure was robed, had two of their claws on a backpack worn by—was that a pegasus?—not a unicorn. The robber was flying above the ground, using some pair of wings shrouded by the cloth to pull themselves backwards and the bag. They also had a tail brushing the floor. Luster continued walking while eyeing the commotion that had gathered a ring of bystanders following the public doctrine of non-interference. If she just could just get a clear visual...
A laser shot between the limbs of the strangers, narrowly missing a foal but popping their balloon, as it made a touchdown on its target: the hip of the robed creature. The magic worked immediately. One blink later and the scene had changed. The figure was trapped in a heavy transparent crystal—basically the hydrogen of conjuration—cerise, like Luster’s coat. And with the threat subdued and an earth pony uttering something in a country accent that Luster couldn’t hear very well nor understand even if she could, the hungry teenager continued on, looking totally cool. Her face suggested indifference. Really, saving the day was a casual occurrence for the filly; it was only muscle memory; she wouldn't deign a glare at who exactly she had defeated. All she had to do was walk away, like a hero before an explosion.
The jacket helps with that, Luster thought. They’re all probably gazing at me—no biggie.
Her stomach rumbled. Well, Mom stole my food and she’ll probably kill me for my ‘special touch’ so now I really don’t have an option but to eat… where? Let's see: that place looks fancy, and so does that other place; there’s a griffon restaurant and a… changeling? Do they even need to eat? Those two that I know only ever went to that modern art thing where they serve you a spoonful of weird flavors for a truckload of bits. That and their bakery. It was about the “experience” or something. They’ve survived a long time without food before. Apparently months. And they said that a long long time ago Celestia trapped the old Hive in a volcano and a few of them started eating each other but… How did Mom survive Tartarus again?
All those thoughts of cannibalism made Luster hungrier so she told herself she had to find a place soon. Was she supposed to do something after that? Certainty lingered around the word “texting”.
Oh yeah, I should text Mom a picture of my food.
But the question of what to get remained in tow, until she spotted someplace that would represent liberation from her Mom’s trip had granted her and a mischievous grin rose from her face. Cozy was so bossy when it came to fast food which Luster theorized was only because Twilight loved fast food. She also never drank coffee like Luna or ordered pizza like Cadance, though she did enjoy cakes like Celestia and cupcakes like Flurry, who she heavily implied only grew addicted to the treat because of her so really it was plagiarism. Luster loved coffee and pizza, and Hayburgers, but besides special occasions (birthdays, a Princess being caught in controversy, etc.) she was never allowed to indulge in it. Why waste the opportunity?
Luster was right in front of the glass doors belonging to a Hayburger.
Relax, Luster. This’ll be cool.
She opened the doors thoroughly and basked in the Sun’s warmth on her back as she prepared for her applause for saving the day. But nocreature turned from their seats or the line, and both of those were packed. There was a pair of guards at the counter reading from a long list.
That’s it? No free meal for saving the day? Ugh!
Luster wasn’t going to be there all day. A different restaurant would surely appreciate her presence. So she looked around for a place that wasn’t too packed and wasn’t too pocket-draining. That brought her to a more vitamin D-starved area of Canterlot: dry, cold, but also cleared of snow, because snow had no avenue to seep. A dark alleyway. It reminded her of some place buried within a distressing chapter of her past.
She peeked through the windows of this new food place (the corners were shattered) and spotted a few customers so she hadn’t fallen into a desolate alt-reality. There weren’t any lines, they sold burgers, and the food looked oily enough. Sometimes a pony simply craved the taste of junk, or what Mom would call: garbage, and a famous cello player: rubbish.
Those customers look rough. I mean, look at those synthetic leather jackets…
Luster had her horn on standby as she entered and walked to the counter, amassing the stares she wanted to the Hayburger.
Curse you, fate, and your ironic sense of humor!
The items on the menu were more expensive than what she remembered Hayburger offering but she justified it as a fee for a fast pass. The pictures on the menu looked genuine, which she wasn’t sure was a good thing.
That burger looks like it wants to be eaten alright…
As Luster skimmed through the menu, she sensed the creature at the counter looking at her. Not wanting to leave a blind spot, she looked up to make eye contact.
An earth pony manned the counter. A familiar colt around her age with a beige coat and orange mane. A stare-off ensued.