Hugs. I was greeted by a procession of hugs: Celestia, Rainbow Dash, and even the mother rabbit. It got to the point where I started to wonder if all of the guardsponies were going to hug me as well.
“Hey, what about me?” Alibi complained.
While he was obliged, I would wager the affection was of a lesser grade.
“I should thank you for letting us know your whereabouts,” Celestia admitted.
Alibi chuckled and flared his wings out in a haughty manner. “I assure you it was mostly rooted in self-interest. Didn’t want you to think I’d foalnapped her after all.”
That pose and his follow-up line really don’t go well together at all.
As I smelled and appreciated the Equestrian grass under my feet once more, my mind returned to Rhod. “Time in my home dimension and this one are synchronized. It should be fine if I go back since—”
Celestia raised a forehoof to stop me. Although confused, I nodded in acknowledgement. She smiled. “Twilight, ever proactive, has already proven exactly what has happened. She has several chalkboards to back it up, and a slightly smaller number of ponies that can attest to their accuracy.
Alibi clasped his head. “No! No more explanations! I’ve had it with the earth-shattering revelations for the day! I’d rather be in school!”
“Basically the two dimensions have become one,” Celestia explained, in such a direct manner as if quoting a hoofball stat.
Alibi cringed and rolled on the grass in mock agony. It was quite satisfying to see the realization develop on his face that nopony was paying him any mind.
My eyes returned to the portal. The pale vortex looked less like a schism in the fabric of reality and more like a hand-drawn spiral pattern in translucent ink, suspended mid-air. I poked it a bit, and it was completely unresponsive and felt no different than the surrounding air.
“It’s our fault,” Celestia added with gravity. “By banishing Quarrel, a magical pressure gradient was created.”
“And magic attracts magic…” I recited, remembering my lessons.
Alibi was now practically pulling his fur out. “Stop it! STOP IT!!!”
I met Celestia’s gaze, we each took one dismissive look at him and then proceeded to ignore him again.
“I imagine it’s enormously complicated, but isn’t this an earth-shattering, dangerous development?”
“Surprisingly, no.” Celestia answered. “The fundamental constants were always the same between the universes, which makes travel between them possible at all.”
“Really?” I asked, truly incredulous. “Nothing bad will happen because of this?”
Celestia nodded weakly. “I asked Twilight similar questions, and we went around in circles for a bit. From what I can gather, it’s a matter of there no longer being anything she can point to that separates the two universes. She likened it to trying to find hay in a haystack.
“Don’t you mean a nee—”
“No, no I don’t,” Celestia cut in, interrupting Alibi. “I just learned the expression myself, but I’m afraid I would botch the explanation.”
I made a mental note to ask Twilight the next time I saw her, and I exhaled. “So Alibi told you to come to the Ponyville portal?”
“Yes, we considered meeting you two in Canterlot, but this one didn’t want to worry Mrs. Rabbit here.”
Alibi blushed and flailed his front hooves. “Don’t tell her that!”
I regarded him. “You afraid of your reputation taking a turn for the better?”
“That’s awfully kind of you, hon,” said the rabbit.
“We were unable to activate either portal. I remind you: If you are withholding information, there will be consequences,” Celestia warned the changeling.
Alibi was indignant. “What!? I told you the truth, all you have to do is feed it a little magic. Like this—”
The portal devoured him, which still rather unnerved me. A minute later, he was back with a sealed letter. “Princess Luna sends her regards,” he casually said, handing it over to the older alicorn sister. “Maybe adults are just too big. Though it would be funny to try and cram you into Quarrel’s sock drawer.”
The guardsponies next to Celestia advanced menacingly toward him.
“Hypothetical! Just a hypothetical,” he assured hastily, flailing his forehooves.
Celestia looked down as if a weight had suddenly been stringed to her neck. “I suppose you want to go home…”
It took me a second to realize she didn’t mean my room at the castle.
“I might, if it weren’t for the fact that Rhod is in danger,” I said without much thought. “Besides, a filly like me wouldn’t fit in.”
“Is there, like, an asteroid or something headed your way?” Rainbow suggested.
I shook my head and stared at the expansive, cloudless blue sky. “Quarrel messed up big: he turned an old enemy of my people into ponies. Billions of… whatever the heck they were before—into ponies.”
Celestia nodded for me to continue.
“Oh, and they didn’t turn back.”
Celestia only now showed surprise before finally sighing. “Of all the worlds. He was always so reckless—more than Discord even.”
“Well in my experience they’re about equally annoying,” I remarked casually. “Anyway, we’ve got a couple of plans. They range from simple—having faith in a formality—to morally dubious at best, hawked by a shady character to boot. In the middle, there’s the possibility that the philosopher’s chest—or whatever the blazes it’s called—has something to help Rhod.” I felt a cold chill down my spine. “Though that would probably rule out it being something to preserve my sense of self. Is it too much to expect both?”
“I see you have a lot to think about,” said the princess. “Though I have to admit, once I heard young Alibi’s account, I thought the last thing you’d want to do was go back to camp.”
I nodded in appreciation of her consideration. “Yeah, that’s where this is leading, but I’ve got a new string in my bow.”
“Pardon?” she said.
“Oh, it’s an old idiom. Surprised it’s still around. We stopped using ballistic and piercing weapons centuries ago per the Arbiter’s Accords.” Oddly, I could see some concern in Celestia’s eyes. “Basically it means I have the tool of newfound insight,” I assured her.
Meanwhile, Alibi trotted towards Rainbow Dash with smug confidence. “I take it you recall our bet?”
Dash pouted. “Yeah, yeah, here are my desert tickets for the week,” she said, reluctantly forking them over.
Celestia’s quizzical expression prompted an explanation Alibi was all too happy to share: “I challenged her to a race to that little old bridge in Canterlot near where I fought River, gave her a head start, took the shortcut, kicked back, and acted like I had just gotten there when she finally showed up.”
“Cheater,” Rainbow remarked. “Don’t know why you’d want them…” It was the first time I saw an adult distrust Alibi to a large degree.
“Yeah, I just ate after all,” he quipped.
I looked around and finally at Celestia, silently pleading for an explanation. I saw the alicorn immediately put together what the disconnect was.
“Your sister really loves you. I’ll be good for a week just from the scraps,” Alibi lauded.
It hit me. “You weren’t kidding, then?” I remarked to Celestia in disbelief as I vaguely recalled hearing about the changeling diet. This made me newly curious about the desert tickets, but I was sure Alibi would get far too much enjoyment from explaining his motivation.
I heard a drill-like humming from the portal and turned my head to see a pair of armored unicorns prodding the portal with weak magic I couldn’t identify.
My mind abruptly wandered to more mundane concerns. “Did we have another activity today that we missed? A creative one, right?”
“Naw, you’re good,” said Rainbow. “There are a couple of late class—” her ears drooped as I saw and her eyes flash panic. “Gotta go see ya!” She said quickly and was airborne and speeding towards the campsite almost before I could register what was going on.
Alibi casually walked towards me. “You said it was a creative activity, but Social Dancing was categorized as creative, and I don’t think they gave me two of those.”
I lightly contemplated the problem—and then I suddenly perked up. “That means I won’t have you in my last activity. All right!”
Celestia laughed briefly before immediately regretting it and covering her mouth.
“Hey now…” Alibi complained. “Don’t act so happy about that!”
“Even Spectacle and Squirt would wear on me after three shared activities, two pairings, and one definitely-not-approved extracurricular activity to another dimension.”
“Actually, it’s no longer a different dimension if what the princess said is accurate!” Alibi said, smug.
“I’d still take a foray to my home world with you over Double, though,” I admitted—mostly to ameliorate a possible bad impression from my jabbing at him.
“So I’m less annoying than Double?”
“Yes.” I answered with zero hesitation.
He smiled.
“Don’t get too happy; it’s not much of an achievement. Besides, I’m slowly starting to understand her, so give it another week and I’m sure you’ll regain your rightful place as annoying number one.”
Alibi perked up noticeably.
I flinched.
Whoa… didn’t expect that.
I then randomly locked eyes with the rabbit mother; then something hit me: “Did you leave your foals—err… children by themselves?”
“No, the other girl’s watching them,” she remarked, completely nonplussed.
“Wait… you left your children… with Perfect Double?” I asked in disbelief before locking eyes with Alibi for a moment.
She smiled. “Mother’s intuition. I can’t understand too much of what she says, but she seems dutiful enough.”
I guess it will be okay as long as the baby bunnies aren’t bouncing off the walls.
Celestia flared her wings dramatically. “In any event, I can’t make too much of a scene here, so I must be on my way. Delta Aura, Flicker Fade. I’m entrusting the portal to you. River, I wasn’t going to force you to go back to camp, but I respect your resolve.”
With that, most of the procession stampeded away.
We were halfway back to the rabbit house before I appreciated how well the mother rabbit knew the forest.
“Say, aren’t you curious about how we were attracted to the portal? I—I think I’ve felt like that before.” Alibi mused.
I shrugged as I avoided stray branches. “We have better questions to occupy ourselves with.”
That was the only words we exchanged during the entire walk back. When we returned, Double was coaxing a baby bunny to sleep as the other five formed a perfect circle around her.
We stared.
“What?” Double said. “I want to practice because I’d love to have my own foals someday. All fillies do.”
Her photogenic sincerity rocked me to the core. Then I imagined a small army of Perfect Doubles and cringed.
“Not all fillies are like that—” Alibi remarked with shaky confidence.
“Sure we are,” Double said. “Come on River, back me up here,” she requested with pleading eyes.
I recoiled at the idea of me with foals. More than anything, it was a shock to my system. It felt like a revelation when it hit me that I’d never thought about it the entire time I was a pony. On Rhod, I was slightly in favor of fatherhood as at least my duty to the cause, but that was outdated, to say the least.
I blushed.
The rabbit mother began moving her babies to the bed, grabbing them by the ears with her mouth. I idly watched her do this for all six. Finally, she turned back to us.
“Thank you for your efforts today. But don’t worry: I’ll have a ton more stuff for you to do after tomorrow.”
...seriously? We don’t help a different animal each time in this activity? I guess the beaver group is gonna build that whole dam.
“Yeah… looking forward to it…” I managed to weakly voice.
The rabbit mother waved us goodbye with a goofy smile on her face.
“So, where were you guys, anyway?” Double asked.
I sighed. “Oh, after reforming a former villain by doing absolutely nothing, we only got dragged unwittingly to another dimension where we were greeted by the jaw-dropping revelation that the princesses’ mistake from millennia ago had tethered the fate of an entire world to the capriciousness of an evil pony galactic empire. Oh, and then we met a remote-controlled synthetic bear-lion who offered us a harmonic friendship bomb in a highly suspicious proposition.”
Despite biting his tongue, Alibi started to snicker.
“Neat!” Double replied, eating up every word. She then hugged each baby bunny one by one before exiting the house.
“You’re actually kind of cheeky,” Alibi remarked.
I shrugged. “It’s a way to entertain myself at least.”
Alibi froze to ponder for a second. “You don’t say…Maybe I underestimated you.”
“The day I fail to meet your expectations is a sad one indeed,” I quipped. “Or maybe it’s more like sinking to your level.”
We sat in a half-circle in front of an old mare standing on a makeshift stage. It was nothing more than a platform made with a few big pieces of wood.
Initially, she touched her front hooves together and I instantly got Ms. Fizzle flashbacks. “Welcome to drama class, everypony. My name is Costume Design. I’ll be your mentor in this little crash course. Now, I know what you’re all feeling…”
You do?
“All of you are disappointed that the musical theater class was full.”
You don’t.
“However, don’t worry: we’ll still have lots of fun together.”
She started by handing out two-page scripts to each pony. To my surprise, there was no indication of which character was saying each line. The teacher then paired us together. My partner was Nest Egg. I vaguely remembered meeting her, but her effusive energy did a lot to remind me. Just being in her vicinity reminded me of channeling a planet’s energy.
We sat together in a corner between the stage and an unadorned wooden wall. This building did little to disguise that it was just a shed, with its low ceiling and dearth of windows.
“So, you’re Annuity’s sister?” I asked to break the ice.
“That I am—her gift sister!” Nest Egg said with a big smile. “So, you go to a lot of hoofball games?”
I shook my head. “No, that was more of a one-time thing…”
In truth, I wanted to go back, but I didn’t feel like asking Celestia for what was surely an expensive ticket. It already felt like embezzlement to collect an allowance from her.
“Do you know what we’re supposed to be doing?” I asked her
“—this is why we will do this exercise as a group,” I suddenly tuned in to hear. “You each will act out your lines without knowing what is on the other pony’s pages. It might be uncomfortable or stressful, but that is part of making art. Do your best and try to have fun.”
Hopefully I can see how it goes a couple of times and—
“River Glade, Nest Egg, we’ll start with you two,” said the instructor.
I pouted. Apparently, my “ability” to jinx myself had expanded to require but mere thought. Before I knew what had happened, my hooves had meekly complied with the call to action. Every eye in the room was trained on us.
“Ever seen a Lynx on the prowl?” Nest Egg read, stiffly.
I froze for a moment and then quickly read my line. “Prowl?” I asked, puzzled. “I haven’t seen anything like that. Uh… they tell me I will see some things, but is… that?”
Nest Egg put a forehoof forward in an “I’m acting” pose. “Ever? No, you’re never going to see anything like that,” she recited robotically. “I’ve seen things that will make a grown pony cry, things speaking to unbridled brutality, things that will eat you alive!!!” She suddenly shouted at the end.
My line sort of ended awkwardly, so I’m glad she recognized that, but her response makes no sense!
“Oh, yes, pray tell me!” I orated, trying to keep pace with her. “Tell me things that will put my heart at ease amidst stormy waters!”
I felt an internal pang of shame and turned pleading eyes to the teacher. Please, someone put this sketch out of its misery. We must have misread some lines…
“Teach me, Sir! How might I stand tall through it all!?” I asked, confused.
I might have done okay there.
Nest Egg sighed, suddenly somber. “Son, you must know what everypony feels deep down. A pony is no match for a lynx. But that is why facing one is in itself a triumph.”
Her body language entered a nadir of despair.
“Is this the Hope they speak of?” I asked, condensing my befuddlement with the script into that short statement.
I heard the sound of one weirdly enthusiastic clapper for our performance before the instructor joined in too. “It’s… not bad for the first attempt of the day…”
And you’re not even trying to make us feel better…
“All right, do we have a volunteer for—”
Most of the class galloped away preemptively, leaving but two “victims” remaining for her capricious designs.
“Monocle, Rough Rider, you’re up!” the mare said with artificial enthusiasm.
Monocle forced a smile, while the earth pony colt put on a false bravado for all to see.
“Hark all of ‘ye. Do you see beyond the northern peak, that with which I seek?” Monocle asked, as if politely accosting a stranger for directions.
Aside from the obvious “him not being here factor”—which made it a definitive boon—I was glad that Alibi wasn’t in this class: it was too much in his territory. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how he’d do right now.
“Umm… River, can I ask a favor of you?” Nest Egg whispered, nudging my ribs to get my attention.
Being touched set off some positive mental energy—probably a pony social thing—but I was firm: “Not now. We’re supposed to be paying attention.”
In truth, I had lost all desire to be a good participant in the class after our fiasco of a performance, but I got the sense that I needed to scout the nine friendship students at every opportunity.
“It’s about Annuity…”
I paused for a second before nodding and leading her to the recongregated herd of our classmates.
Why did there have to be twelve keys? Unless I give myself a key—which would be really convenient right about now—I’m left grasping at straws regarding who the twelfth pony—changeling, zebra, whatever—is.
“So anyway…” Nest Egg said.
I suddenly became conscious of the fact that most of the group was paying more attention to us than they were to the skit on the stage.
I waited anxiously. I could tell even the ponies that appeared to lose interest were still primed to eavesdrop.
“Fine, go ahead,” I prompted, annoyed that even the ponies not from my school hadn’t lost interest.
“Well, Annuity’s been thinking some things over…”
“Okay.” I said flatly.
“I mean, not that she’s in turmoil or anything, but it’s a decision I think is pretty neat…”
“Okay.”
Get to the point…
“Well, I don’t know how to say it, but… well—Annuity wants to fix things between you and her and….well, be redeemed…”
As surprised as I was myself, the shrill gasps from Gilded Acres and Granite Hammer in front of us deflected attention away from me for a moment. It also assured me that I hadn’t misheard.
I guess even her friends don’t know about this. I thought. I guess she’s more than just a sister in name to Annuity.
“Whoa!?” Annuity’s going to be redeemed!” one colt shouted in surprise.”
“Wait!? That Annuity!?” His friend remarked. “Um… who’s Annuity?”
“I don’t know, but it’s big news!” the first colt replied.
“Why?” I finally asked, having failed to ignore the eavesdroppers’ exchange. After the initial shock, my reaction was fairly tepid. Annuity wanting to be nicer seemed like small potatoes when compared to the fate of Rhod.
“It’s all calculated,” Nest Egg explained, chipper. “She knows she can’t beat you in influence now, so she figures she may as well cut her losses. Oh, wait… I guess I shouldn’t have told you that part. Oopsie! Haha…”
I giggled. “I wouldn’t have believed anything else; it’s always about what’s in it for her. So, having said that, what’s in it for me?”
“Oh, umm…” she flailed her hooves randomly; then, realizing that wasn’t convincing, she froze to ponder. “We hadn’t thought about that actually…” she whispered.
Well, we’re off to a resounding start!
“TO KNOW BEYOND THE WORD OF A FALLEN WORLD!” Rough Rider soliloquized.
“Yeah… what he said…” Monocle added meekly.
My eyes wandered to the mare leading the class. The look in her eye was a cross between slowly brewed self-loathing and the passivity of a startled deer.
After about a minute, my classmates were exchanging disbelieving looks at each other, wondering how this activity would be salvaged.
“M—maybe I shouldn’t have invented a new drill,” the older mare languished. “—and implemented it… without a test run…”
You think?
Though I supposed she still had more dignity than Alibi had after his two-move chess defeat earlier in the day.
I smiled. That was funny.
“So, uhh… anyway…” Nest Egg prompted.
“Oh, uh… right…” I stammered, sheepish upon recalling that we were mid-conversation. “I don’t need an incentive so to speak—it’s just a lot of work to commit to right now.”
“Oh, right, because you’re a princess and—”
“Not that!” I clapped back. “I have other non-regal obligations I must also attend to. There are ponies in the class that would benefit a lot—like the Citrus siblings—” I paused.
Come on, don’t talk yourself into this! You've got to find the…twelfth…pony…who might… be pleading with you… right now… I felt my mind crash at the thought.
Nest Egg, oblivious to my mental flailing, looked like her mental wheels were turning in a good-faith effort to make her case. “Well, I know her, and I just know that she could help others if she was set on the right path.”
While the theatre teacher was busy picking up the shattered pieces of her sanity, our classmates had stopped even feigning disinterest in the discussion and were now outright spectating.
“I will give it some serious contemplation. If it can make Canterlot First a better place, it’s natural to want to do it. While I’m not entirely convinced that this isn’t a prank and Annuity isn’t about to sneak up on me and pie me in the face, I can sorta imagine what would get her to this point.” I sighed. “I should also say that I have no desire to fill a power vacuum in the social hierarchy. Just because I’m an alicorn now doesn’t mean I suddenly have great social skills or can reform anypony who lines up.”
While I was expecting pleading, I instead got a little bow of Nest Egg’s head (I cringed) and a heartfelt “thank you.”
Fortunately, our deflated teacher recovered a few minutes later and we resumed with a much more conventional lesson; though I was still bitter about being made a guinea pig.
When the lesson ended, I was surprised to find Pestle waiting for me on the way out.
“You look a little frazzled,” she said, cutting straight to the point.
“Still?” I responded.
“Did something happen?”
“Well… you’re not going to like this, but Annuity’s gift sister asked me to ‘redeem’ her.”
Pestle stayed silent for a few moments. “It’s been brewing. Annuity’s friends have become less deferential towards her.”
“Come to think of it, she accused me of stealing Bubble Bauble from her…”
“It sounds like a bad thing, but I think they’re more like regular friends now, rather than sycophants.”
I stared at the ground for a second. “So, you’re okay with this?”
Pestle shrugged. “I wouldn’t be her friend, but it’d be selfish of me to deny the relief her regular targets might get. Anyway, dinner will get cold, so we better get going.”
It was a short walk to the cafeteria. There were the usual stares for me, but having someone else made me feel somehow less scrutinized.
The line was long—and rather unorganized. I didn’t especially want to discuss Annuity, but the monotony of waiting convinced Pestle to reignite the discussion—mere moments before I was about to do the same.
“So, are you going to help Nest Egg out?” she asked.
“You know, I’m not even as against it as I thought I would be,” I admitted. “However, I do have a lot going on—and I hate how that sounds coming from me…”
“What other stuff do you have occupying your time? I mean, I’m not doubting you, but I genuinely don’t know.”
Her straightforward approach refreshed me and regained some of my flagging composure. “You know, some of it is even worse than redeeming Annuity…”
“Can’t be.” Pestle said without waiting a beat.
“Well, I’m the designated soccer rival to one of the exchange students,” I explained.
“How are you stuck with that? What is it, she has a bone to pick with a princess candidate?”
I nodded my approval at her choice of phrase. “Yeah—anyway, she doesn’t know it’s me since I’m doing it in disguise—long story.”
“How’d you end up playing soccer in disguise?”
“Well, you probably don’t know them, but Squirt’s sisters—”
“Oh yeah, Latte and Coffee… they’re something.”
How!? I can understand her knowing Squirt’s dad, the athlete, but what exactly do twin mares do to become local legends?
Pestle motioned for me to continue.
“Well, they wanted me to help Squirt be more physically active…and help him get through to his crush—I forget which one came first.”
“You got roped into that!?” she asked in genuine disbelief.
“Okay, they’re not all that bad. Celestia kind of told me without telling me to take care of Alibi…”
“What did she tell you?” She asked, probing.
“Well… nothing.“
“Nothing?” Pestle prompted.
I became aware of the proximity of other foals in line and felt a little hot in my fur. I had to try and put a lid on my concerns about being overheard; our whole discussion would probably circulate the campground overnight no matter what I did. “No, he just kinda showed up in class one day and latched onto me as something familiar.”
“You knew him before?” She asked, sharp as ever.
“Well…” I grimaced. I was presenting more and more openings when it came to my elaborate web of lies and untruths.
“It’s a long story…” I said after a long pause. “I can’t tell you the full story, but it basically leads to the same outcome in any event: it falls to me to help him get adjusted.”
“Anything else?”
“The Princess thing,” I answered instantly, earning a sedate reaction. “I mean the official thing at school—the one they make me do.”
“You do know you can say no to these things, right?” She snarked.
“It’s—it’s easier said than done,” I answered weakly as I filled out my dinner plate.
“The first one?” she probed.
I sighed, my whole tiny frame reverberating. “You got me there…”
“Hey, River, over here!” Applebloom called, needlessly shouting in my ear.
Pestle gave me a look to confirm I knew her, and we sat down. Sweetie Belle smiled at us; Scootaloo waved.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to hang out more. I’m honestly overloaded right now.” I apologized.
Applebloom cocked her head. “What’re you apologizin’ for before even sayin’ hi? Though I suppose it’s my turn to apologize, overhearing the pair of you. You were sayin’ something about redeemin’ a pony?”
I pushed a grape tomato gently with my fork, as I hesitated.
Pestle jumped in. “Yeah: a filly named Annuity. She’s a school bully.”
“That’s perfect!” said Sweetie Belle.
Scootaloo flapped her wings excitedly enough to give her a little lift out of her chair. “Yeah, problem solvers—that’s what we are!”
“Applebloom tapped the table gently as she was thinking. You know, we sorta redeemed a pony ourselves. Maybe this Annuity should talk to her.“
“Sure,” Pestle answered—almost instantaneously—refusing to beat around the bush like I was going to. I must have looked anxious, so she added, “We may as well see what this friend has to say.”
I looked around at the tables nearest us. I didn’t meet any eyes and thought that perhaps I was being paranoid about everyone trying to listen in on my conversations.
“So what did the three of you have to do in animal taming—err… animal care class?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, we’re building a dam for some beavers...” Scootaloo answered, exhausted just for mentioning it.
“So it was you three, huh?” I said. “Alibi heard about that one—bet you’ll be busier than us.” I ground a forehoof against the side of my snout as I weighed my own statement. “Or maybe not—the bunnies we’re taking care of are pretty demanding.”
“Did they need cuddling?” Sweetie asked, completely serious.
I nodded. “Yes, but Perfect Double handled that for us, thankfully.”
“Pestle Mix, by the way,” the alchemist filly said, remembering her manners before I had remembered to introduce her.
“Scootaloo,”
“Sweetie Belle,”
“Applebloom, and we’re—”
“The Cutie Mark Crusaders!” the group said in unison, just shy of shouting.
Then it got awkwardly quiet. It wasn’t so bad—relaxing even—, and we peacefully ate for a little while. I suppose it might be expected since I was the only bridge between these newly made acquaintances.
When I got back to the tent, my presence was announced by a colt who had apparently appointed himself a sentry. I just sighed as I meekly crossed the open space to my designated sleeping area.
A few paces away, a familiar lime earth pony was brushing her gold mane.
“Hey, Gilded,” I greeted, mainly out of obligation.
I started to wonder after a few seconds if she was making it a point to ignore me. I was initially annoyed, but I perked up when I realized it was probably for the best not to start another relationship that would require maintenance. And then my mouth mutinied.
“I know, I know, we’re not friends or anything. I’m just trying to not leave things silent and tense and all…” I said, waffling somewhat.
She finally made eye contact with me with a slight smile. “Oh, no, it’s not you. I was just thinking through something. I know you didn’t care for Pish and Posh’s fancy restaurant, so I was left wondering—”
I didn’t know whether to curse the tabloids, my invitees, or Pish and Posh for making my personal business public knowledge. Inevitably, I cringed with embarrassment at the whole fiasco—my tantrum had been one of the more childish things I had done.
“But you never know. Would you be interested in the Honor Society?”
“The what!?”
“The council? Filly Student Government? They call it different things in different places. Anyway, it’s where fillies that want to network get together to promote the common good. Ever since Haute Couture graduated we haven’t even been able to establish a quorum at Canterlot First.”
“I don’t know who that is…” I remarked weakly, beginning to regret starting the conversation.
“That’s not so important,” Gilded said. “Anyway, Canterlot Second’s Honor Society has invited us to observe to get some ideas when we get around to re-forming. Pink Diamond’s going, and that bat pony has been strangely eager to advertise it.”
“I don’t think—”
I froze.
Bat pony? That’s got to be New Moon. And Pink Diamond’s there too… I started to dread where my own train of thought was leading.
A bunch of fillies, huh? Wouldn’t it just be mahjong and gossip?
I felt the pressure of a world on me upon mentally connecting the dots between Rhod and my mission with the exchange students.
I guess I’ll go. I can always leave if it’s a bust. I assured myself.
“When is it?” I finally asked Gilded following my deliberation.
“Tomorrow after dinner. You wanna go?”
Not really
“Yeah, I’ll probably come,” I said resignedly.
“Neat! Pink Diamond says you know some of the Canterlot Second crowd so I’m glad I can lean on you for that. I’d be nervous going by myself.”
I exhaled. “I don’t know how much of a help I will be in that respect. I’ll probably be very confused while attracting far too much of the attention.”
Gilded looked me in the eye and smiled. “Yeah, and it’ll be good governing practice for… you know?”
“I don’t.” I quickly lied.
Gilded hummed acknowledgement before traveling across the room to talk to the chaperone.
As curious as I am about this body’s governance structure, this is for Rhod. I’m certainly not looking for princessing tips.
Although I tried my best to put in a good effort studying Celestia’s notes on New Moon, Pink Diamond, and the others, I woke up halfway through the night after having dozed off. Initially, I was furious at myself for losing time I could be productive with, but that calmed down quite a bit once I remembered that my young body wasn’t designed for late nights.
I quickly went back to sleep.
They stood before me, in the same place for the first time: Auburn and the brown stallion. Realizing this was surely a dream, I calmed myself as much as I could and focused on the energy and vibe of the phantasmal space we occupied.
“I think I know why we’re here…” I said stiffly.
“I’m glad; I can feel it,” Auburn responded.
“We know, but you should say it anyway. These sorts of things have a strange power, you know?” said the stallion.
I turned first to Auburn, trying not to be distracted by the luminescent void in the background that couldn’t decide between blue and purple hues. “I’ve known for a long time that you aren’t a real foal. House Keeper certainly confused me for some time since I thought you two were related.”
“Continue,” she said, clearly nervous.
I felt a rush of panic. “I’m not trying to vanquish you or anything—I hadn’t thought about that…”
“There’s no need to worry,” the brown stallion said serenely. “This answer you should also know, yes?”
“You both are parts of me…” I answered.
“Not rocket science, but yes,” Auburn remarked.
I sighed. “Mere days ago, I feared you, thinking you represented my ‘femininity.’ Still, that never felt correct to me. I mean, since becoming a filly, I haven’t internally rejoiced or anything; it’s just—different. But I was so fearful of your mere existence that I hid from anything that could even tangentially connect you to me.”
New realization dawned on me, and it opened my mind with succinct clarity only possible in a realm of pure thought and emotion.
“In a way, it reminds me of my childhood. Even then, I was always avoiding things as I do now—even benign indoor activities like singing, dancing, and pretend play as a child—just so nobody would think I wasn’t masculine enough. Maybe it was because I looked up to my sister more than anyone, but she’s just cool.”
The filly nodded for me to go on.
“But, with all that said, I think you’re actually the internal turmoil caused by imagined, judging eyes. You being a filly is simply because that’s what’s hardest for me right now. All of it is rooted in fear, whether it be for failing, losing the approval of my peers, or even acting too much like a ‘happy pony. Though if I’m, to be honest, the hardest one for me right now is falling short in my duty to do what I can for Rhod. And that means getting those keys from the friendship students.’”
I took a breath.
“I’m going to have to take some risks. But I’m now capable of doing what needs to be done, without flinching at the searing gazes of others—who probably don’t even care anyway. I can go to the filly honor society or whatever if I need to—I’m not going to suddenly change. Doing something just means I did something. Others might perceive me differently, but it doesn’t change me. With Rhod on the brink, I can’t concern myself with the shallow assumptions of others. Still, I do wish they would dispense with the princess treatment.”
Auburn smiled like a proud mother. “You really picked up a lot from your dinner ‘date’ with those colts, didn’t you?”
I smiled, quite content. “I wore a dress for the first—possibly only—time and it went as bad as it could have from my perspective. To my point: ponies saw me differently all of a sudden, which was my worst fear. But I survived that fallout. More importantly, I know that Diane won’t even judge me for it, so what do I care anymore? I’ll play the part of a filly princess a bit. If I like it, then I’ll worry about that then.”
Auburn closed her eyes, at complete peace. “I think I can move on—not that I’m a ghost or anything!” she said in a cute, panicked burst. “Just remember that you don’t need to be afraid of yourself. If you conquer that fear, everything else will fall into place.”
She instantly disappeared and was replaced with hundreds of little lights that bounced toward me, coalesced into a small sphere, and phased through my chest. The only real emotion I felt was the afterglow of her subtle pride.
Without delay, I locked eyes with the brown stallion and then shot him a quizzical look. “You sure you’re up for doing whatever the heck she just did?”
He nodded, bringing his gaze to my eye level to deliver his warmth.
“Uhh… I don’t really have a full speech for you—or at least I wouldn’t have one that’s too different from hers.”
“It’s all right,” he said, with all the patience in the world.
I chuckled. “You would say that—given what I think you represent. Same as my fear with Auburn—I didn’t want to be seen as childish in any way. I had to confront this sooner than the filly-related problems, so I guess that’s why I ‘met’ you first.” I sighed. “I think the difference is that my de-aging is a real threat to my existence and my sense of self.” I took a breath. “It’s very, very scary—I’m not going to lie. But maybe some things—like my curiosity in the face of a new world—aren’t so bad. And—of course— it’s okay to lean on others sometimes. I’m going to need to get used to that for a while.”
I froze.
The stallion walked towards me in complete relaxation. His eyes spoke of catharsis and relief. Before I knew it, he had shrunk to my size, and the next instant he was an identical copy of me.
“You’ve done well,” the foal said, but with the same voice as always. “I was sad at first when you were scared of me.”
“I thought you were Harmony itself; of course I was scared,” I replied.
He nodded, pensive. “I have nothing more to say. You stole all my points.”
And so, he too became one with me. While I had expected an almost divine charge of realized potential, I felt only the satisfaction of having taken two steps forward.
“That just leaves House Keeper…” I said weakly. “She’s not the same as you guys, but for some reason, I can’t forget about her—her prison extends well beyond the mind. I still want to try, though. I’ll try—someday—if she’s not Key Number Twelve that is—but even then…”
I awoke with more energy than usual. While that was nothing out of the ordinary, something felt different. As I stretched at the tent entrance, a few steps away from a sleeping colt, I briefly considered mischievously leaving before our chaperone awoke. I quickly changed my mind, sympathizing with his caution in managing a dozen-plus foals.
Okay, today is the day I turn it around! I’m not going to see ‘one key out of twelve’ and feel discouraged. I’ll focus on each friendship student as I interact with them and not put the others in the back of my mind. Rhod’s survival might come down to this, or it might not. I just gotta be diligent… without forcing things. Here goes the next step.
My mind clear and heart ready, I held onto that feeling of dynamism as I waited. Burning certainty filled my core as my tent mates woke up and chatted. I could feel that electric power even through breakfast.
Unfortunately, that energy didn’t last, as another boring Rainbow Dash lecture later, I was groggy atop a cloud with the rest of the pegasi.
“Hey, River!” The last voice I wanted to hear called out. Somehow I knew exactly what it was about to do. I reluctantly turned my head to see Alibi with an arm around Zephyr Zap.
“Turns out me and Zephyr Zap get along real well…”
I sighed. “We’re still doing this?”
“I’m in this for the long haul!” he gloated.
This—is going to be exhausting…