Diprosopus

by WritingSpirit

Dwelling Insanity

"In accordance to the Trottingham Incident..."

With each ruffle of paper, Princess Celestia held her lengthy breath. None of them were prepared for this: the second bombing in Equestrian borders. They knew it would happen inevitably, but how it happened was a different matter entirely, not to mention the additional troubles that came with, and lead up, to it.
"Minister," her voice came out firm as it was terse.
"You may begin."

"The riots started at approximately three in the afternoon, the rioters marching down from Lister Gate and Bridlesmith towards the church square. The vicars were holed up in the church when it happened and, despite a few peaceful demonstrations from the church itself, the rioters soon surrounded the church, trapping them inside."

With that, the minister settled down, prompting his colleague next to him to rise with a bow. He cleared his throat, raising a small document to his eyes and arranging his spectacles as he read out:
"Shortly after that, the gates of the church were opened, and the rioters stormed in. The explosion occurred soon after; at three forty-six, to be precise. It was triggered from a trip wire tied to the knobs of the church doors, timed with a ten-second interval before setting itself off."

"Casualties?"

"Forty-seven dead, twelve succumbed to injuries, which makes a total mortality rate at fifty-nine so far. Eighty-five more injured with twenty or so of them in serious condition."

The death toll that stood before her froze her in her seat, whatever plausible response to appease the ministry's uncertainty already crumbling away. Nervously, she swallowed, blinking a few times at the figures, unable to fathom on the occurrence of such a drastic event.
"I was told you knew one of the culprits?" she finally asked.

"It was an inside job."
The minister who said that stood up, face flushed and weak in his knees. His report was literally trembling in his hooves, the text no doubt revealing the disturbing truth.
"We have discovered a colt known as Ferrus Blithe, who held the post of archbishop in the church. Like many others, he was found dead, his hoof bruised with chains and branded with the words Servus ad Tyranus. We have every reason to believe that he was forced to work with the enemy through torture. Searching his bedroom, we discovered his diary. From it, we found out he was indeed tortured, yet his involvement in the incident was far more deeper than we've ever imagined."

He placed on the desk an airtight bag, to which contained a small notebook; no doubt the same one that unveiled the dark secrets within its pages.
"According to his words, the riots were staged. It had been days, weeks, maybe even months in the making. The enemy forces him to help them stir mass hysteria in the streets, and in return they spare the lives of the priests of the church. Upon examining his body, we found binds around his limbs that were tightened almost every day, which impeded his movements greatly, maybe to prevent him from rushing for help."

"Did he write anything about the pony that was responsible?"

"No, your Majesty."

Princess Celestia slumped at his words. Another broken dead end.
"Any other reports instead of that in Trottingham?" she asked.
"Anything that might tell us about the whereabouts of our enemy's next plot?"

"What of the hunt for Professor Page, your Highness?"

Fancypants's voice strummed the perfect string in her heart, the alicorn turning to see the distinguished stallion marching up from the doors. The ministers, being not used to interruptions in dire times such as this, turned to their princess, almost wanting to cry an outrage.
"It seems you made progress," she began, to which he quickly answered with a nod.
"Have the authorities in Saddle Arabia taken him into their custody yet?"

"I'm afraid not, my Princess."
The stallion quickly strode forward, placing a few photographs as he cleared his throat. Princess Celestia frowned at the single figure standing in all of them, furrowing her brows once Fancypants began:
"Professor Page is currently in the capital of Riyadh, still under captive of the enemy. He leaves for the excavation out of town at around two in the afternoon and returns at nine on a daily basis. From what I could understand, our unknown rival had provided him the sufficient funds for both the excavation and his stay, but I'm aware that there is an air of distrust between them."

"Oh?" Princess Celestia said, raising an eyebrow.
"How so?"

"He was being followed. Shadowed no doubt by the ponies working for his client."
Fancypants slipped out one photograph from the small pile on the table, raising it up for all on the table to see. In it was the professor in khaki shorts and desert hat, savoring a mug of Arabian coffee in the bazaar. Their sights, however, were focused onto the noticeable silhouettes of a minotaur and a cloaked mare in the background.

"My sources said that the professor knew he was being followed," the stallion began.
"I believe that it was to prevent him from calling for help or escaping the town. There might be more than those two in the photo that were stalking him, however."

"See if we can get face recognition in the archives," the princess ordered, to which Fancypants bowed, but still remained there. Cold beads of sweat were already crawling down his forehead, however, and Princess Celestia couldn't help but ask:
"Any other news you wish to disclose to us?"

"Saddle Arabia has informed me of some rather... disturbing news."
The stallion reached into his suit, pulling out instead a small map. Unfurling it, it was revealed to be the desert province of Saddle Arabia itself, with only a small region of Equestria sprouting from the top left corner of its tattered state.
"The Vizier had notified me of... enemy movement. A small battalion, to be precise," he began.

All horrified eyes turned to Princess Celestia, whose face was rapidly draining with color. Silence held their voices taut, none daring to speak before, with a swallow, she asked again:
"Any details?"

"Around four-hundred," was the answer, inciting murmurs around the table.
"Consisting of bandits, heretics and the like, of all species, be it minotaur, griffin and pony alike. Scouts have reported them crossing the Dunes towards the border of Equestria, we believe. It'll be a matter of time before they reach Equestria."

"And? The time they will take?"

"Estimation..." Fancypants gulped.
"About a month."

The ministers' murmurs started to escalate, growing into a verbal scuffle, only dying down when the princess let out a loud cough. Army or not, there was one thing of concern that would decide the certainty of the fall of Canterlot, and she knew it would be indispensable to determine if Equestria will have a new friend or foe.

"No dragons?"

"None so far, your Highness."

Princess Celestia breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she would need are dragons in the enemy flanks. She had battled a fair share of dragons before, and as vicious as they were, they were also equally swift and cunning, and have long sought for their reinforcements just in case an attack like this might happen. Plus, the alliance between Equestria and the Badlands was anything but powerful; to know how dragons might join the enemy only made it more fragile, considering that the draconic monarchy have refused to send for help even when Canterlot will be under siege.
"We'll have to hasten the negotiations with the Badlands, Highlands and, perhaps, Saddle Arabia," she demanded, her ministers quickly shuffling their papers.
"Other nations must be notified of the event. And Fancypants?"

"Yes, your Highness?"

"See to it that Professor Page will be safe," came her orders.
"There will come a time where he will defect and return to our ranks. Use whatever resource to free him from their clutches, and we will then find out from him what our enemy wants with his project. Then, we might know the reasons behind his capture."

And, hopefully, the identities of these mystery ponies behind his captivity as well.

"Really?"

"You were absolutely perfect on stage, Sweetie Belle!"

The teenage minstrel couldn't help but let out a squeak of glee, her face redder than the stallion congratulating for successfully passing the auditions. Rarity remembered it all: the squeal, the small certificate she frantically waved about, and the eager skips she did on their way to dinner at a nearby restaurant.
Of course, when they arrived to the table she reserved for them, her younger sister's jaws immediately dropped from a guest she secretly invited, unbeknownst to Sweetie Belle. She deserves a fitting prize for her success, after all, and what would be better than to have a talk with one of her favorite idols and judge of her performance, who was also a dear friend of her and Spike?

"My fellow judges couldn't have said it better themselves," came the voice of Crimson Lux, famed popstar, ladies' colt and, undeniably, one of Sweetie Belle's idols, despite her different musical direction from his. Rarity could hear the difference; Crimson's music (which sometimes blared out of Sweetie's small stereo) was uplifting and jumpy, whilst Sweetie's preference was that of soul music: emotional and vulnerable yet powerful and brilliant all the same.
"I'll have to admit, I wasn't aware that you were Rarity's sister until she told me," the stallion continued.
"Your family is diverse with talent, aren't they? You a singer and Rarity a fashion designer. Must be in the blood or something."

Rarity just let out a small laugh, sipping on a small glass of tea as she glanced around the restaurant. Spike excused himself for a small break a few minutes ago, leaving him the only guest absent at their table; the rest of her friends had chosen another place to eat, leaving her, her sister and the dragon to dine with Crimson.
"By the next round you'll have to perform on stage in front of an audience," the singer began with the wisdom of her tutor. "All three judges of the panel, including me, will be there, as well as probably half of Canterlot. Gotta get ready to face the crowd. I've seen ponies frightened of the audience so much they can barely even say hello!"

"But it wouldn't be that big, right?" the teenage mare asked.
"Would they fill up the whole stadium? Or..."

"You'll be fine up there, Sweetie dear," Rarity assured, her sister beaming. She knew about Sweetie Belle's stage fright, which was something the mare was trying to overcome. After all, singing is her prowess, and the aim to entertain possibly a crowd of millions might be overwhelming, but it would mean the world to her.
"One day, you'll become a star like Crimson! Just think of all the colts fawning over you~!"

"That's... pretty creepy..."

"That's showbiz!" came a familiar chirp. Rarity couldn't help but roll her eyes, stifling a small, gentle smile when she saw Spike shuffling towards them, unaware of the turned heads he was getting from the other guests in the restaurant. The sound of grinding chairs and clattering metal filled the usually silent atmosphere as the dragon clumsily traipsed about the tables, nearly knocking over some ponies from their seats.
Luckily for them, none of them dared to raise their voice at the dragon, though Rarity knew they would keep their complaints and jeers among each other. Raising her glass towards her mouth with her horn, she asked:

"Where have you been?"

"To sum things up, the restaurants don't take into account of dragons using their lavatories."
Spike arched his back, letting out a growl of satisfaction when the aching in his back stopped. The rest of them suppressed their quiet giggles, allowing him to ask:
"So how's business these days, Crimson?"

"Slightly slow," was the grumble of an answer.
"All this talk about an old enemy coming back - and don't forget about the bombings - are taking a toll on my boss's head. Next thing you know, he's going to fire me because he thinks I'm part of his plan, which, strictly speaking, is going to be as ridiculous as it gets."

"You know who this... old enemy really is, right?"

"Bombings, murders, deceit and manipulation. It's already a dead giveaway, to be honest."
Crimson took a small sip from his glass, wearing a stern frown that mirrored that of Rarity and Spike. Sweetie Belle, however, just stared at them in confusion; having missed out in the chaos of Pendant Lakes. She knew better than to ask her sister about it, seeing how easily Rarity would be discomforted by it.
"I just hope that the princess does something about it," the singer continued.
"You wouldn't want your kingdom to turn bonkers when they start off another fireworks party. Take a look at Trottingham, for instance."

Rarity seen it all over the news: the bombing of Trottingham. How the riots started, how the church exploded and how a grand sum of ponies perished in the incident, all printed out in the headlines of papers for the whole of Equestria to see. Already there had been rumors of plots to assassinate the Canterlot ministers like last year, with the one major difference being them slaughtered on their home turf instead of the foreign north.
"One thing's for certain, Canterlot isn't ready yet for an attack," Crimson affirmed.
"Pendant Lakes stood until the very end because we have ponies there that knew what they were up against, but we ponies in Canterlot have zero information on our enemies. Have to be careful on the streets these days."

Rarity, Spike and, with no intention of being left out, Sweetie Belle, nodded simultaneously. Raising their glasses of wine (and for the teenage mare, lemon juice), a quartet of clinks followed, and slowly they drank, making sure to finish every drop.
"So," Crimson started again, albeit more reluctant.
"How's Octavia doing?"

"You could say she's complaining a lot about your absence."
Rarity stifled a smirk when the stallion sputtered suddenly; to say her gray friend was 'complaining' seemed like an understatement. There was one time she recalled her saying something about snapping his neck off if she ever saw him again. At the very least, she hoped Octavia wouldn't take her words literally.
"She's doing pretty fine with Vinyl back in Ponyville, despite her laments. We would have a rather quaint gathering now and then, and there would be some talks of the past, but she would end up resuming her grumbling about you some time after."

"Well, that's a good sign," Crimson replied, wearing a smug grin.
"Shows she's still missing me."

The four of them laughed softly, cherishing the comfort of luxury, wine and, in the next second, food, as the waiters quickly served them the first dishes. It was a warm prospect for Sweetie Belle: the mare who admired all three of her elders sitting before her, and for Rarity: the mare who treated them all as a family in this small reunion.
There was her sister, the only sibling and one of her most precious treasures that she would safeguard for the entirety of her life. There was Crimson, the stallion that helped her in her darkest troubles yet, and made Pendant Lakes seem brighter than it was. And then there's Spike, the dragon that she craved for quite a long while after selfishly terrible attempts of dating other stallions and earning their courtship, to no avail, and instead found true love with him.
"There's still time," she told herself a lie, hiding all agendas that they might never come together like this again.

"A lot of time left, Rarity."

"It must be somewhere around here..."

Stellar Lionheart questioned the last time he entered the north. Fenderville wasn't typically a true northern town in terms of geography, despite it being the closest city from Pendant Lakes, and he felt more like a stranger now; a tree uprooted and planted back in 'foreign territory'.
He didn't remember the northern air being this humid and damp. It felt like there were parasitic weeds growing in his lungs, stealing any of his breaths and sparing only the long ones. The trees were slightly lankier and stunted, its distended branches bare with leaves and reaching out to claw Luna's currently faint moon. The nocturnal ambiance that filled the night like chattering would fill a marketplace vanished, leaving only a qualm of silence in its withdrawal.

"Death's grasps are tighter here," Jovern remarked as he drifted through the clouds. Brilliant rays of orange, gamboge and red streak through the dusk sky, enveloping the world as the princess lowers the sun, allowing her sister to rise back into full glory at night, though they have bigger suspicions at hoof.
"There's something different in the air than the last time I was here. Something... bizarre."

"According to the map," Caduceus spoke, glancing at the tattered paper fluttering in his hooves.
"We're currently in the vicinity of Pendant Lakes. In fact, the western gate should be below us right about now."

Stellar closed his eyes, prying from the recesses of his memory the town in its former glory. He could see it now: the slate roofs and stacks of chimneys billowing with pale-gray ribbons of smoke, the cobblestone roads aligning the many stone buildings around, the fountains spewing out domes of droplets where lovers fed coins into its bowels, the pigeons fluttering around the leaf-filled plazas, and the grandiose structure of Palgiot Palace, heralded underneath an evening sun.
"Jovern," he said suddenly, snapping out of his reverie.
"Take us down."

Without further ado, the dragon drifted down, his colossal claws scattering clouds of fog at the first sight of land. The doctor was the first to step off, squinting his eyes through the dim curtain of light and making out the shapes of dead trees, some standing and some toppled over like dominoes.
He unfurled the map again, raising his compass only to grimace at the sight of it spinning wildly like the blades of a helicopter. His friend stepped down beside him, raising a lantern as he lit it up. Jovern just glanced down at the small firefly light flickering in the darkness, all their faces revealed from the shadow.

"The trees..." Caduceus muttered, beckoning Stellar towards the dead plants.
All three of them wore a grim frown at the illuminated trunk. The bark was cracking and discolored, now bleached white and filled with the stink of rot replacing its once crisp, pine aroma. Upon closer inspection, they could see spiderwebs and termite mounds underneath the cracks, creeping around the walls like a living, grotesque plague.

"I recognize this tree," the doctor continued.
"This is the place where Persimmon and I first met."

"First met?" Jovern asked, intrigued.
"What do you mean by that?"

"Caduceus and I were teenagers back then," Stellar answered instead with a chuckle, reminiscing of those earlier days, where everything seemed simpler. More chaste.
"Being the juveniles we were, we had a rather jolly game of tag. Of course, our doctor here was a dim one in his youth. To be completely honest, if he were still the feeble-minded fellow he was today, he wouldn't know how to dissect a frog with the bladed end of the scalpel."

"It was sometime during the game," Caduceus continued, "that I realized I wandered out from the town. So I ran around the forests quite a bit, slightly nervous on where I was going until I wound up here."
The doctor let out a sigh, glancing towards a small stump covered in lichen and mushrooms jutting out from its cylindrical sides.

"She was sitting right there, counting some mushrooms. I must look like an utter mess from all the running, because she screamed when she saw me. We had a small talk once she calmed down, Persimmon and I, before Stellar found us. That's probably how we, along with Sidus, became the Crux Four."

"That's queerly interesting..." Jovern remarked with a wry smirk.
"And you two remained platonic after that? Never furthering the relationship whatsoever?"

"Well, I'm sorry to have disappointed you, then."

The trio laughed quietly, the only sound to fill the decrepit forest, before they ventured down a path, barely visible from all the wild grass growing over it. Stellar raised his lantern higher, brushing away the branches reaching out to them. He closed his eyes again, letting the instincts of the past guide him. They were faint sparks: flashes of falling autumn leaves, cobblestone paths and, at the very end, the stone archway leading into the town.
"Almost there," he could hear his friend mutter, the truth of it ringing in those words. A few more steps, to be accurate.

Finally, he opened his eyes.

The sight that met him wasn't what he expected, even though he knew Pendant Lakes would be a ruin. The stone arch, instead of leading forward, now spiraled downward, with some of the granite fragments of the structure laying at the bottom of the pit. Ahead of them, where he believed the ruined buildings would be, was instead a mound of dilapidated earth. From there, he could see certain structures jutting out of the lopsided landscape, such as the roof of the church and a few chimneys from various houses.

"My god..." Caduceus mumbled, horrified by the upturned wasteland.
"The whole city's fallen underground..."

Stellar settled the lantern down onto the floor, gazing into the only entryway into the town: the pit. One slight misstep, however, and there would be a dastardly long fall, for he and Caduceus at least; if Jovern fell it would only cause an earthquake.
"We'll venture down in the next morning," he said, spreading out a small sleeping bag.
"It's too risky at night. One blasted lantern wouldn't be enough."

The other two readily agreed, settling down onto the ground. It wasn't long, with the help of the dead trees and Jovern, that they have a warm fire started. Soon enough, they were engaged in conversations, mostly about the dangers they might be facing. There were a few laughs, though they died down as soon as they started.
The former butler stared back at the desolate wasteland. What was once here, all tossed and turn into mere nothingness... it was as if the earth swallowed what once belonged to the Palgiots, leaving behind a memorial in the form of a buried town. Despite that, there was one thing that comforted him, even if it only brings back pain.

"I'm back..."

Pinkie couldn't remember how long she was alone.

Despite still being in the vicinity of the pilgrims (whom avoided her after her loud outburst), she still felt solitary. Bored, with only a few stack of rocks on the floor accompanying her. She had made them herself from her need of a friend, though she sometimes wished there was a real friend to be with her. A friend that understands.
Perhaps it was meant to be; that she might only find a true friend in these lithic beings. She never questioned destiny for being at fault, yet it really seemed inappropriate. Plus, she never meant to yell at Phoenix and inadvertently delayed their exit from the Solsenaar Underpass, she just felt... hurt at the mention of her past.

Even if she can't remember a thing about it.

"Ye gods, finally found you, my lass."
The voice struck a familiar tune, what with its Highland accent and noticeable drawl, as Ollivander stepped from behind a stalagmite with a cheeky, beaked grin. Her frown was immediately washed away, leaving a sad smile on her lips from the presence of the gryphon.
"Ain't easy to search for you, ya know," he continued, wiping a bead of sweat.
"Almost like... what you pony folk call it? Needle in a hay batch?"

"Haystack," the pink mare corrected with a small giggle.
"What would gryphons call it then, a needle in a haystack?"

"Hopelessly lost, that's what."

Both of them chuckled lightly, with the gryphon settling himself onto the ground. Pinkie didn't mind his company; he was far more active than a stack of rocks, that's for sure. He and Ganger were the most optimistic of the group, and what Ganger can do for cooking with only three mushrooms and a mug of honey, Ollivander can do for companionship in a complicated mess such as hers.
"So, lass," he began, ruffling his feathers.
"Ya ready to pop your hooves yet? Phoenix ain't a patient li'el fellow, as I know him."

She wanted to frown at him for mentioning of the stallion, yet Ollivander's exuberant personality was enough to bar her from doing so. It was like some sort of contagious disease, albeit an ironically healthier one: they do say laughter is the best medicine, after all.
"I'm not really sure..." she admitted softly.
"I mean... I was the one that yelled at him, and I thought he deserved it. But when he said that I might be happier a long time ago... I... I don't really know..."

"I see, I see. You're in a li'el of a pickle. Some small swordfight in yer head."
Without hesitation, Ollivander shuffled towards her, unintentionally kicking away some of her rock puppets as he did so. Standing up, he stretched his four limbs with a chirp, his tail lassoing a pebble, to which he soon juggled in his talons as he fitted himself next to her, the pink mare shifting to the side.
"Well, I'll tell ya a wee bit of a secret," he began, tossing the pebble aside.
"Somethin' that only three ponies know of so far, which were Finn, V and Selena 'erself. Mostly because they were in it the whole time. Like some sor'o story, if you wanna know."

"Really?" Pinkie asked, curious.
"What kind of a secret?"

"How Selena and I got together."
Ollivander's smile turned into a beaming, triumphant grin once he saw the mare starting to fizz up with delight, her curved mouth steadily falling and widening in unison. Her eyes literally sparkled like the many crystals around, her heart bouncing in its cavity as excitement overwhelmed her like a flash flood, submerging her into a jumpy fit.
"Calm down, lassie," the gryphon said with a chuckle.
"It ain't easy t'a hear a story when yer shakin' like a leaf!"

"So how did it start?"

"I think you should've asked of when did it start."
Clearing his throat, still wearing his cheerful grin, the gryphon began:
"It was in the eve of March, I think. Just wee past February, when me, Finn and Velvet arrived at the town of Gaileton for a little break from adventuring. It was nice to see a comfy bed for once, and we warmed up to the innkeeper, who gave us a bed. Back then, we wouldn't have to carry around that blasted caravan. No, we only had sleeping bags, food and tankards of water in our bags, so civilization back then was a gryphon's heaven."

"Now, Gaileton is a small little place, yet it was booming with life. Steam to them was like gold, and everything was steam powered: their trains, their furnaces, even their showers! Everything with steam, it was the way of life for the ponies livin' there, and every single resident was happy. I was jolly as them; who woo'nt be when you finally found an actual bed that you can snooze on for the rest of yer life?"
He stopped short to let Pinkie have her fair share of giggles, before continuing:
"Well, once we found a room, we began explorin' the town a li'el. You know, make sense of the streets and all. Might come in pre'y handy when ya come back next time. Had lunch at a li'el diner, then sett'n off again. It wasn't long before my talons started to ache, and I told Finn and V I needed a li'el rest. By golly, it was the best two hour nap I ever had in months, and that's sayin' some'in, as we gryphons are known for always flyin' around without rest.

"About a week la'er, we stocked up and were ready to go, but of course Velvet had to finish up some errands. Ain't clear 'bout what 'e is, but it seemed urgent at the time. Then, the court'ouse suddenly exploded! Like, BLAM!!"
It wasn't a good mimic of an explosion, but it was loud enough to toss Pinkie off her hooves. The mare giggled like a filly, anticipation overwhelming her in a surge of energy that stalled her breath, her hooves standing on its very tip.
"Smoke was everywhere, and we knew who it was: none other than Selena 'erself. Saw her in the news last week, where she was arrested for a triple murder of 'er parents and bro'er, but instead of going to a trial, she blew up the whole place. Finn and I were quick to get 'air, though we weren't there first. V beat us to it, that colt. Half burn'd and unconscious, Finn decided to take 'im away, while I tried to se'el things with Selena."

"She was mad, as in cuckoo on the top! Rigged the whole darn town with bombs! One press, 'nd Gaileton turns into smi'ereens! It was me and 'er, like some sor'a showdown, and I could tell from her face that she was one brain cell loose! She was holding a remote, with a big red ba'on and pupils smaller than the tiniest seed, threatening me to not take a step further, so you know what I did?"

Pinkie shook her head.

"I went up to her, and she stepped back. I said: 'ya don't wanna do this. It ain't what you wanted. What about the ponies that are innocent? The colts and fillies in school? What about your family? Do they wanna see you like this; blowing up a town without sparin' a single life? I know how ya feel,' I told 'er. I know how it is to lose someone ya hold dear, and ya just need time to recover.'"

"I ain't gonna help her, she screamed. She was framed by some other pony, and that she loved 'er family. She was cryin' and... for some reason that I know now, my 'eart just... just felt like some'in's pullin' it down. She really wan'ed to press the ba'on, but I told her it ain't worth it, and said I was there to help 'er. And... she listened. She was huggin' me after that, still sobbin' and sobbin', droppin' the remote and savin' what might be hundreds of lives."
Ollivander glanced down, his face turning somber as he let out a sigh. Pinkie had never seen the gryphon being that serious before. Then again, he wouldn't tell everypony about his first meeting with Selena.
"I calmed her down a li'el, and by the time we were done, she had cried 'erself to sleep in my talons. She was shiverin' and whimperin', lost in some sort of nightmare, per'aps. The town didn't want 'er here, and she too returned the grudge, so I asked 'er to join us. To join the caravan. And, as ya know, she agreed and, well, 'ere we are."

"But where's the part?"

The gryphon just blinked in surprise. "What part?" he asked.

"You know!" Pinkie declared.
"The one where you and Selena got together! Where's the lovey-dovey? The smoochy-smooch?"

"Aye, my lass. I was gettin' to that!"
With a cough, Ollivander resumed his story:
"It was about four, five months after all that hullabaloo, and Selena and I were the best of friends. In the next town, we went to have a look at her... mental state, if you could call it. See if she's go'en over the incident. There was that magic used on her, and we gryphons ain't keen with magic, taboo and sorts, so you could probably see me shakin' on the chair. After she was done, the doctor and I had a small discussion in private. You know what he said?"

The gryphon's grimace slowed down Pinkie's shaking head, filling her thoughts with uncertainty. His smile faded into a total grimace, and the pink mare hesitated at the flicker of... rage? Anger? Whatever it was, it flickered in his pupils and corresponded to the frown he was wearing, and she was a little frightened by it, to be honest.
"Selena's still mentally ill," he finally gasped out after a minute of silence.
"She's crazy, even though how happy she was. Still is, to be honest. She's still that insane mare inside 'er, waiting to blow up like a time bomb. Ridiculous, ain't it? That a mare whose talent was creat'n bombs was a bomb 'erself. I didn't know what to do after that, so I thought I would just spill the beans."

"What happened?"

"I lied."
Ollivander's voice cracked, his hazel eyes shimmering as he blinked, trying to chase the tears back in.
"I... I couldn't do it... I couldn't tell 'er that she... that she's still... she was..."

Pinkie held her breath, watching hopelessly as the gryphon raised his talon, wiping a few tears off his furred cheek. Breathing in with a shiver, he swallowed a gasp of air, before continuing softly:
"She looked at me, almost as if she wan'ed to say somethin', but then pushed it away. We talked, yes, but I knew that she wasn't comfor'able with me anymore. So I sat under a tree that night, wonderin' if I did the right thing, before she came up to me. She wanted to yell at me, asked me why I lied, almost raisin' her hoof to slap me, and I closed my eyes and waited for it to come. Waited for a blow that can strike my beak clean off my face. Then she leaned down and did the most amazin' thing..."

"You both... kissed..."

The gryphon just nodded dreamily, staring into space.
"It... it was one of the best kisses I would ever have. We both were chokin' on our tears and kissin' in the moonlight, and she just curled up to me and said: Ollie. You mean everythin' to me. I know that I'm... that you might be afraid of me, but if you would just give me a chance. She never finished 'er sen'ence, however; I ended up kissin' her again! You should've seen 'er that night. So happy and filled with hope. Slept under the stars, she and I. Together. And that's how we've been until now."

"Wow..." Pinkie could only respond, yet one question remained.
"But if what the doctor said was true, does she mean that now, she's still..."

"No doubt about it, yes," Ollivander replied hastily and coldly, obviously cursing that memory to have ever existed.
"Which is what I wanna tell this to you, about you and Finn. He wants ya to remember because there are some things in the past that you might've cherished. Even when it's somethin' bad," he stopped briefly to gaze at his marefriend in the distance, "like Selena's condition, it led to us bein' toge'er. She's insane, yes, but she fascinates me and makes me happy, and all I want was for her to be happy as well," he turned back to Pinkie, "there would be some nightmares, yes, but there's always room for sweet dreams. Like he said, you wou'nt be the happy-go-lucky mare you are now if your life was filled with only horror.

Pinkie just glanced away, her thoughts lingering on the gryphon's words. Maybe they were true after all, a part of her said. Maybe there might be some good in the darkness of her past, just waiting to be found. And once she found it, it would be the light to guide her through the black to a better world; the one she was searching for.
"Th-thanks, Ollie," she replied, stifling a small smile.
"For talking to me."

"Ain't a problem, lass, and remember."
Ollivander rose, standing on all four talons as he stretched his wings, wearing a smile.
"Don't be afraid of your past. You done nothin' wrong."

She gave a quick nod, and with that the gryphon soon departed, leaving her to settle in her thoughts. It wasn't long, however, before another voice snapped her out of her intuitive state, the pink mare recognizing it immediately.
"Finally done with the chatting, I see," Phoenix said, stifling a smirk.

"Listen..." Pinkie began, teeth sinking into lips.
"I just wanted to-"

"No need for an apology. I'm the one who should apologize."

Both exchanged smiles, the serene silence of a reconciliation enveloping the two, though Phoenix was quick to break it.
"I got something for you," he said, reaching around his satchel and fumbling through the miscellaneous items inside. He soon pulled out, much to Pinkie's disbelief, a wrapped piece of marshmallow. The sight of it already tackled her taste buds into full force, making the turquoise stallion laugh.
"Call it a cheer-up gift. Saw you hoard up a stash of candy at every town we stopped by, and seeing how you would gobble it all up, I thought of keeping a few safe from you hooves."

Pinkie, much to his surprise, snatched it greedily, ready to just rip apart the wrappings emboldened with the word 'Caramel' across like a sash and pop the treat into her mouth, though she stopped short. She turned to Phoenix, her open mouth sewing up into a smile.
"Thanks," she said quietly.

"No problem."
Phoenix's answer gave way for Pinkie, who popped the marshmallow in and started chewing relentlessly, turning the edible mound into a sticky mess. It felt so good, the sweetness melting in her taste buds; she never felt so euphoric in her life before!
Her expression of saccharine bliss earned a laugh from the other pony, which made her giggle in embarrassment. Phoenix started to walk away, though not before chuckling heartily when she shouted to him:

"You still need to tell me how you found my stash in the first place!!"