//------------------------------// // Part Two // Story: Secret Histories // by McPoodle //------------------------------//   Secret Histories Part Two Two sunsets later, a unicorn and a griffon were making their way from the library to Sugarcube Corner to meet up with Pinkie Pie. “I didn’t know you had an interest in human languages,” said Twilight Sparkle. Gilda took the two books she had just checked out and tucked them under one wing. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she said coolly. “I’ve already taught myself English and Russian as part of a little project I’m working on. These should be a fairly good start for Chinese, although I was hoping you’d have Raise the Red Lantern.” “The film?” asked Twilight. “I put in a request for it from a couple of human libraries six months ago, but it hasn’t come in. In fact,” she said, closing one eye as she concentrated, “there are about thirty or so films I’ve asked for that haven’t come in. I put a viewing station in the library at my own expense, but so far, all I’m getting from human librarians are children’s movies! It’s almost like they think we ponies can’t handle the R-rated material!” Gilda had a massive coughing fit to cover up her honest reaction to that remark. “Are you—?” “Fine!” Gilda exclaimed. “I’m fine.” Twilight looked at her oddly, then shrugged. “So anyway, you said you wanted those books for a project?” “Yeah,” said the griffon. “You didn’t think I was in Canterlot for fun, did you? I’m looking for investors in a company I’m looking to start. The griffons are...” —Gilda frowned— “...well, they don’t see the potential in humans yet, but they will.” Twilight stopped walking as she took this in. As far as she knew, no griffon wanted anything to do with humans since their arrival, being more concerned with...whatever it was that griffons obsessed about. With a slight toss of her head, she trotted to catch up with Gilda. “You don’t need to go to all this trouble to learn all these languages, you know,” she said. “After all, the humans and Pr. Valerian have perfected the Full Immersion machine for teaching English and Equine to any sapient creature. It’s very inexpensive and—” The griffon suddenly turned on her and put one pointed claw in her chest fur. “Look, Miss Sparkle,” she told her, “I don’t trust that Full Immersion machine any further than one of you ponies could throw it.” “Oh it’s perfectly safe!” Twilight assured her. “Have you used it?” Gilda asked. “Well...no, but—” “Ha!” the griffon exclaimed. “I knew it.” Twilight used her magic to calmly push the talon aside. “That’s just because I enjoy the challenge of teaching myself something new,” she answered. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with any fear of side effects.” “Oh, you have every reason to be fearful of side effects, Miss Sparkle,” Gilda assured her. “I’ve done my research. That machine puts a copy of the language skills of one particular pony in your head, does it not? Some pony that volunteered to be surrounded by humans by months as they taught her English, and after that your dragon professor copied part of her brain into a gem. Am I missing anything so far?” “No, you are remarkably well-informed,” said Twilight, pleasantly surprised after some of the stupid rumors she had heard as to how the machine worked. “So what are you afraid of?” “I have some misapprehensions that more than just language is being passed over,” Gilda asserted. Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” “You know who this volunteer pony is, don’t you?” asked Gilda, accusingly. “Maybe I do,” Twilight replied defensively. “Then tell me if any of this sounds familiar,” said Gilda. “Based on what I’ve seen of the ponies who’ve been through Full Immersion, she is obsessed with humans.” Twilight smiled. “Ah, you’re confusing correlation with causation. The ponies who were the first to try out Full Immersion were of course interested in humans, so it would be false to say the machine caused their interest.” “Stop muddying the issue with your fancy statistics!” snapped Gilda. “Second point, based on the humans that have been through Full Immersion: this pony is also obsessed with you.” “Me?” asked Twilight, growing a little bit nervous. “Yes, you. And don’t blame that one on that cartoon those humans cooked up after your biography—” “My very unauthorized biography,” an annoyed Twilight added. “—After your unauthorized biography got published on Earth,” said Gilda. “This particular brand of ‘crazy’ comes straight from that volunteer pony, I’m sure of it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been moving from town to town to keep up with you.” “Oh, that’s just ridiculous!” the unicorn exclaimed. “Is it? Is it? And third and most damning, whose records sell more among Full Immersion patients than anybody else?” Twilight thought for a few seconds before she realized the answer. “Ha!” she exclaimed. “The top-selling artist is not a pony at all, but Michael Levy, a human performer of the l—” Gilda grinned in triumph as Twilight suddenly froze. “I...I think I might need to look into this matter tomorrow,” the shaken unicorn said to herself. A couple blocks away, Applejack joined Fluttershy and Rarity at Sugarcube Corner. “Applejack!” Rarity exclaimed in surprise. “I did not expect that you would have the time to spare to meet us tonight.” Applejack smiled. “Oh, I couldn’t miss this,” she said. “It was at one of these get-togethers that I first met Pinkie Pie, and it was at another one where I convinced her to stay in Ponyville for good. Besides, these shows of hers are not to be missed.” Rarity sniffed indignantly. “Well, I’ve never been to one, and I’ve known Pinkie almost as long as you have!” “You might want to ask your parents about that, Sugar,” Applejack said coldly. “They always changed the subject whenever ‘Madame Pinkie’ was being talked about. ‘Pinkie the Baker’ was just fine, but ‘Pinkie the Melonie [1]’...that was another matter entirely.” Translator’s Note #1: You know, I really shouldn’t be making any comments on this story at all under the circumstances, but I can’t help but point out the derivation of that term. You see, in ancient times it was thought that a tribe of camels had been exiled by their kind for sheltering the Royal Pony Sisters during the Age of Chaos, since the camels had been created by Discord. That legend has been thoroughly debunked in the centuries since (starting with the camels’ clear proof of their own existence before the Age of Chaos), but somehow a truncated version of the name “Camelonian” has been attached to the nomadic Grasnari tribe (and those imitating their lifestyle) ever since. “Well, they’re not going to stop me this time!” Rarity vowed. “I’ve heard what goes on at a séance, and let’s just say I’ll be ready with the second question once this ‘Emperor Noffony’ business is resolved.” Applejack stared at Rarity cooly. “Rare, I’m just going to say this once, based on a personal experience I don’t care to recount: Don’t ask no question of a spirit unless you’re sure you want the answer.” Rarity said nothing, merely pursing her lips together in thought. Meanwhile Fluttershy, having overheard this conversation, got even quieter than normal, as she pondered what sort of question she might ask. At that moment, Twilight and Gilda entered the town square at the same time as Rainbow Dash came in for a landing. The griffon froze in place as soon as she was able to see the building the other ponies were gathered around. Twilight chuckled to herself as she continued on ahead, remembering how seeing Sugar Cube Corner at night for the first time had taken her breath away. “You’ll notice that at least I had sense enough not to mention a word of this séance business where Scootaloo could hear it,” Rainbow Dash bragged to Twilight. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Twilight asked, looking around her. It was only then that she spotted Spike, who had been sneaking a block behind her the entire time. “Spike!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing following me?” She waited until the baby dragon caught up with her. “Well,” he said sheepishly, turning one of his feet back and forth on the paving stone, “this is going to be a séance, right?” “Who told you that I was going to a séance tonight?” asked Twilight. A second’s thought brought her the answer. “Pinkie Pie,” she said dully, and then started in shock when everypony else in the square said the same thing at the exact same second. “Why do you want to go to a séance?” she asked the dragon accusingly. “Well,” Spike answered with hesitation, ‘I was thinking that I could learn how they work, so maybe someday, well...well, I am a dragon, and you’re a pony, and I know which books you’ve been studying when you think I’m asleep...” Twilight gasped softly to herself, then quickly took Spike aside for a quiet conversation. ~ ~ ~ Rainbow Dash cautiously approached Gilda, who was still rooted to the spot. Her eyes were glued to the top of the chimney on the pastry-inspired building, where puffs of steam were slowly emerging, a visible sign that the Cakes were baking a variety of sweet breads in preparation for tomorrow morning. “Mommy, why is it so warm in here?” the little griffon asked. She was colored the same as Gilda, right down to the flame-shaped eye mask, but her tiny wings were twisted into unusable knots on her back, the result of a birth defect. “This is the part of the Bakery where we prepare the bone meal, Grizelda,” answered Sky Shock carefully. Her eyes were on anything but her daughter. “Griffons can’t live on the same diet that ponies do, so we use supplements, like bone meal, to take up the slack. This oven is the one used exclusively by the royal family.” “Aren’t we in the royal family?” asked little Grizelda, putting on airs. This was Gilda’s very first memory, although, strictly speaking, it wasn’t actually hers, since the events she was currently reliving originally happened to another griffon twenty-five decades ago. “Hey, Gilda, are you alright?” Rainbow asked, waving a hoof in front of Gilda’s glazed eyes. “Mommy, this game isn’t funny anymore!” Grizelda shouted. “Please let me out of the box. Mommy? Mommy?” She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she could hear the sounds of paws scampering away and a faint sobbing. Rainbow glanced over her shoulder at the smoking chimney and suddenly remembered the sort of things that triggered Gilda’s mysterious “attacks”. She tried to shove the griffon so that she was looking anywhere other than at that chimney, but she wouldn’t budge. Finally with a grunt she succeeded in lifting Gilda bodily and turning her around. She then started shaking her in mid-air to break her out of it. “Gilda! Gilda!” she cried. “MO...!” The griffon’s eyes suddenly focused as she snapped her beak shut. She looked at the ground, and then back up at Rainbow Dash. With an annoyed snap of her wings, she broke free of the pegasus’s grip and returned to her paws and claws. “So are we all here yet?” she asked in an annoyed tone. She acted like nothing unusual had happened, and her eyes promised retribution to anypony who dared to challenge that assertion. Rainbow rolled her eyes, being quite used to this act from Junior Flight Camp. “Just waiting on Pinkie Pie,” she said as she landed beside her. “And Twilight and Spike have gone off for some kind of pow-wow.” Gilda glanced in the direction Rainbow Dash was pointing. “What’s their problem?” she asked. Rainbow Dash told her what had happened, ending with, “I wish I knew what the hay they were up to.” Gilda had an utterly impassive expression on her face, one that both eagles and griffons were masters of. “Rainbow, you do know about how we absorbed the Orange Tribe more than two hundred years ago, right?” she asked quietly. The pegasus scrunched up her features to think for a second. “Oh, that’s that thing were you treat some dragons just like they’re griffons, right? Like you’ve got griffons raising dragons from the moment they hatch.” “That’s right,” the griffon replied. “And dragons live a lot longer than griffons. Or ponies.” “Yeah, but I don’t...oh. Ohhhhhh,” said Rainbow with a grimace. “I never really thought about that. Poor Spike.” “Now don’t take this the wrong way about your friend,” Gilda said, “but I always thought that using séances for that reason, was kinda creepy.” “It’s alright,” Rainbow Dash said with a sigh. “It is creepy. And also very, very Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight and Spike had by then broken up their huddle, and were now joining the others. “I’ve, uh, decided that Spike can stay with us,” she told them, “for this exhibition of an esoteric form of magic that comes easier to dragons than to ponies. And it’s a skill I think Spike could definitely have a use for. Not that I would know anything about it! After all, Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns in no way, shape or form endorses the practice of divination magic.” “Which is why you have that secret stash of books in the basement,” said Madame Pinkie, who had walked into the square behind her. “Which is why I have that secret stash of...hey!” Twilight turned on the pink pony. “Pinkie,” she asked, “you are going to be conducting this séance in a manner that is safe for the presence of minors, aren’t you?” Pinkie Pie raised an eyebrow accusingly. “Err...Madame Pinkie?” Twilight said, correcting herself. “Well of course, my little babushka!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie, looking as serious as she ever got on most days. She was wearing the typical garb of a Melonie: a long scarf wrapped around her neck and a turban with an ostrich feather on her head. “I was apprenticed to Momma Fortuna herself! Unfortunately, the whole ‘never settle down’ rule didn’t work out when she wanted to leave Ponyville, or maybe fortunately, because that’s how I got into pastry.” “Alright, Madam Pinkie,” said Applejack, “isn’t it about time to get this little show of yours started?” Madame Pinkie rushed in front of her as she started to head for the front door of Sugarcube Corner. “Oh, we can’t have the séance in there,” she explained, “not after what happened last time.” “What happened last time?” asked Applejack. “Um...nothing!” exclaimed Madame Pinkie. Applejack narrowed one eye and gave her an accusing stare. “Absolutely nothing, or mostly nothing?” “Um...B!” Madame Pinkie answered. “But it wasn’t that bad! The Cakes totally over-reacted when they saw Sweetie Belle’s head facing the wrong way.” “What?!” exclaimed Rarity, pushing to get around Applejack. “It went back the right way, honest!” Madame Pinkie protested. “And Sweetie Belle even learned about a new register to her voice even lower than Flutterguy’s—that’s got to be useful for her future singing career!” Fluttershy eeped in embarrassment at being reminded of her Poison Joke affliction. Rarity meanwhile looked back for a second to make sure that Applejack had her mane in her teeth before fruitlessly charging forward at full speed, exclaiming, “I’ll destroy her!” Madame Pinkie leapt behind Twilight. “You will?” she asked fearfully. Rarity instantly stopped, retrieved her tail, and examined it for damages before answering. “No, of course I won’t, Dear,” she said. “Sweetie Belle survived the experience without trauma, or I would have been aware of it. However,” she said with a narrowing of the eyes and lowering of her voice, “if anything had happened...” “Eep!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie, jumping up a few feet before falling back down again, her fall slowed by a tiny pink parasol. “Enough with the antics!” exclaimed Gilda, who had been rolling her eyes nearly nonstop throughout this exchange. “If we’re not doing it here, where are we doing it?” “I’ve got a place set up next to Carousel Boutique,” replied Madame Pinkie. “Everypony, follow me.” She looked back for a second, then winced slightly at the two individuals she had left out of her pronoun. “I mean everypony and everyffony and everygony...follow me!” “It’s everydrake,” muttered Spike under his breath, mentally putting “everygony” on his list of “Words That Are Way, Way, Way Too Girly.” Pinkie led the others to a large circus-like tent located behind Carousel Boutique, tinted in the pony’s characteristic color. It must have been made of something more interesting than burlap, however, because when the entrance flap was closed, the interior became pitch black. The darkness was broken a moment later as Fluttershy released several fireflies from a light-tight container in her saddlebags to gather near the top of the tent. The sickly green illumination they provided was dim, but usable. Madame Pinkie, Twilight and Spike proceeded to a small table at the center of the tent. There, Pinkie produced a bowling ball bag, from which she retrieved a large crystal ball and stand. She pushed first the table, and then the stand around a bit with her nose until they were situated just right, as the unicorn and dragon watched in silence. She then picked up a stick from the ground with her mouth and used it to inscribe lines and figures into the dirt. “Ah!” Twilight quietly exclaimed to her assistant. “She’s using the traditional Melonie summoning procedure. The outer lines inscribe the limits of the space the spirit will be allowed to roam.” “A mystic barrier?” Spike asked. “Are we expecting trouble?” “No,” said Pinkie, releasing the stick from her mouth so that it rested against an upraised hoof, “but certain things can set them off, and when that happens, they really can’t control themselves. That reminds me: Gilda, you better not have eaten anything funny for dinner tonight!” “Don’t worry,” the griffon’s voice grumbled from the other side of the tent, “I had to skip dinner to get here from Canterlot after work. If you don’t mind, though, I think I’ll stay here in the back.” Spike quickly excused himself from Twilight’s side and waddled over to where Gilda was sitting back with forelegs crossed. “Hey,” the dragon said shyly. “My name’s Spike. We didn’t exactly get introduced the last time.” Gilda pretended to look down at Spike for a few seconds. “Hey,” she finally said. “I’m...just call me ‘Gilda’, OK?” She held out one claw curled into a fist. Recognizing the ultimate sign of coolness, Spike nonchalantly matched the gesture, and the two fist-bumped. “So, Gilda,” Spike said cautiously, “I was wondering...?” “Yes, Spike?” Gilda said, one eyebrow raised. “If spirit summoning is easy for dragons, and not so hard for ponies, what’s it like for griffons?” Gilda grimaced. “Hard,” she answered. “Really, really hard. You don’t want to know the stuff we griffons have to do to summon a spirit.” “Oh,” said Spike, and the conversation stalled. “Spike!” the voice of Twilight intruded. “Madame Pinkie’s just getting to the good part!” “I, uh, gotta go,” Spike said, shyly scratching one claw between two plates on his neck. “Yeah,” Gilda said coolly as the dragon retreated. “You do that.” She turned away with a smirk, only to find herself face to face with Fluttershy. Now it was Gilda’s turn to feel awkward. “Hey, uh, Flutterfly—” “Fluttershy,” the yellow pegasus interrupted in a barely audible voice. “Err, yes, Fluttershy. I just wanted to apologize about what I did to you the last time I was in Ponyville. It was a jerk move, and you really didn’t deserve it.” “Um...alright,” Fluttershy said cautiously. “So...um...are we cool?” Fluttershy tilted her head sideways as she processed the question. Gilda’s eyelids nearly went into seizures as she repressed an epic eye roll. Fluttershy’s head snapped suddenly back into an upright position. “Sure!” she exclaimed, louder than she expected. “Of course I forgive you, Gilda,” she added more quietly. The griffon’s face fidgeted for a few seconds, before a claw was reluctantly offered and a head was turned half away. “Shake?” she added nervously. Fluttershy produced a hoof, and the shake was quickly concluded. “Well I’m glad that’s over with,” Gilda muttered to herself as she watched Fluttershy walk away. She turned to face the other way, only to find herself face to face with Rainbow Dash, a big grin on her face. “Hey! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she exclaimed. “You know for a carnivore, you sure say ‘hey’ a lot!” the pegasus said in a snarky tone. Gilda suddenly felt a touch of hippophobia from all the ponies crowding around her in the suddenly too-little tent. “Hey, let’s get this show on the road, here!” she exclaimed. “Hey, you’re right!” exclaimed Pinkie from several ponylengths away. “Gilda does say ‘hey’ all the time!” “Every...body gather ‘round!” Madame Pinkie exclaimed after finishing her preparations. “But stay outside the line—I don’t wanna have to redraw that!” The others did as they told, as Twilight and Spike joined them. “Now hold hooves...or pointy appendages,” Pinkie instructed. Rarity looked reluctantly at the griffon to her left, who was busy rubbing one muddy fist against her chest feathers. “Do we hafta?” she whined. “Yes, you ‘hafta’,” Twilight said sternly. “It reinforces the containment spell.” “Very well,” Rarity said, offering up one pristine white hoof up to the sacrifice of a thorough cleaning later tonight, followed by the promise of a hooficure tomorrow. “So who will you be summoning, Madame Pinkie?” Twilight asked. “She’s a surprise!” Pinkie replied. She had to stop herself from bouncing up and down in excitement. “But she is on the Mortal Plane, right?” Twilight asked cautiously. “Because if you’re trying to summon from beyond that, it gets kind of...” “‘Kind of’ what?” asked Rainbow Dash, after it became obvious that Twilight was not going to finish her sentence. “Kind of like what happens when a griffon summons a spirit.” Twilight said softly. Rainbow Dash turned green at this statement, thereby revealing that she did know the details that Gilda didn’t wish to provide. “Don’t worry!” Pinkie exclaimed. “She’s where she’s supposed to be. And I’ve summoned her before, lots of times. So, is Question Time over?” Twilight looked around her to confirmation. “Yes, I think you can begin now, Pinkie.” Pinkie gave her “the look.” Twilight blinked. “Madame Pinkie.” “OK!” Pinkie chirped. Her voice then dropped an octave as she began her incantation in the Melonie tongue, waving her hooves in elaborate passes over the crystal ball and causing weird shadows to be cast on the walls of the tent. “Opre!” she exclaimed at the end. “Opre!” Suddenly a piercing yellow light shot upward from the crystal, scattering the fireflies and making the rest of the room that much dimmer. The light resolved itself into the enormous head of a white alicorn with closed eyes, its mane replaced with a sheet of writhing flames. “WHO DARES TO SUMMON THE BANEFUL BANSHEE OF BALLYFORE?” she cried out in an echoing deep voice. “FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, I WILL INFLICT A TICKLE ATTACK UPON YOU, THE LIKES OF WHICH...” As she was saying this, the demon horse opened her bright red eyes, which is what caused her to stop. “Oh,” she said in a normal voice. In an instant, the head shrunk down to that of a unicorn foal, her fiery mane became blonde hair, and her eyes turned into normal blue ones. “I see you have company,” she observed, in a completely conversational tone of voice. “Blue Belle!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “That was a good one!” “Did I scare you?” the see-through head asked eagerly. “No, but you got pretty close!” The head pouted. “I hope this doesn’t come across as presumptuous, My Lady,” said Rarity in her most-genteel manner, “but which Blue Belle are you? Or...were you, as the case might be.” “IX,” answered Blue Belle, her attention still focused on the pink pony. Both Rarity and Twilight’s eyes lit up at the same time. “It is quite an honor to meet a legend such as yourself!” Rarity said with a bow. It wasn’t as complete a bow as she would wish, since she still had her pasterns linked with her neighbors’. “Lady Blue Belle IX was a renowned champion of Princess Celestia,” Twilight explained to the others, “saving Equestria through her diplomacy on multiple occasions.” “I’m also your ancestor,” noted Blue Belle. “Most ponies would have said that first.” “Yes,” sighed Twilight. “Well I would have gotten to that eventually, Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother.” To the inquiring looks of the other ponies, she answered, “She married a male Sparkle, and for...personal reasons, allowed my family to gain legal custody of their daughter after his death.” Turning back to the floating head, she asked, “So why are you so young? The time of your greatest triumphs was well into your marehood.” Blue Belle smiled, finally taking in the other ponies in the tent. “You see me as I was in the years of my greatest happiness,” she explained. “I am glad to see that my reputation is so widely known.” “Indeed!” Rarity exclaimed. “Your life has always been an inspiration to me. I have a painting of your grief over the death of your beloved first husband—” “Ah, well that was a private moment,” Blue Belle interrupted uncomfortably. “—and another depicting your clandestine second marriage for love, against the direct order of the Princess!” As she contemplated this scene, Rarity wrapped her forelimbs about her barrel and swooned. Safety or no, a pony simply had to have the occasional moment for drama! Rarity hoped that by getting her hooves back in place before her neighbors noticed that she had at least observed the spirit of the “not letting go” rule. “I...I...I did no such thing!” the spirit protested weakly against the accusation of true love. “My second marriage was to the pony ambassador to the Diamond Dogs, Sir Purse Strings. We had the blessing of the Princess and everything!” “Oh, you didn’t expect a juicy deception like that to remain a secret after your deaths, did you?” Rarity asked coquettishly. “The title and new name came after the fact. In truth, he was but a common thief, and he stole your heart! How romantic!” And she swooned once again. “Has nopony any sense of privacy in this modern age?” cried Blue Belle. “Is it true?” asked a shocked Twilight. “A marriage against the Princess’ orders? And Rarity, I noticed this time.” “Drat,” cursed Rarity, holding her hooves out once more. “Well...” the spirit grinned mischievously. “Yes, it’s true. You should have seen the look on Princess Celestia’s face when I told her! Completely blew her Delegation Operation to pieces!” “You knew about the Delegation Operation?” asked Twilight in even more shock, putting hooves to her face. (“Ha, who’s breaking the circle now?” chided Rarity.) “Oh, I knew the maneuvers, Bearer of the Element of Magic,” the floating head said smugly, “but I had no idea of their purpose until a liberated Princess Luna resumed her link to the Spirit Realm. Do not fret, though. All that would have really changed in the end is that one of you would have ended up with higher cheekbones than you currently possess and to be honest, they were not a very attractive feature.” There were certain topics of conversation that the five Bearers who were not Twilight Sparkle had long since learned were off limits to polite inquiry, as doing so had a negative effect on one’s sanity score. Almost anything Pinkie Pie was at the top of that list, but a close second was “the Delegation Operation”, i.e. the reason why the five best exemplars in all of Equestria of the qualities of Honesty, Loyalty, Laughter, Kindness and Generosity should all just happen to be living in Ponyville on the day when the greatest unicorn magician in Equestria and the avatar of Darkness Eternal should both come for a visit. This despite the fact that some of them owed their residence in Ponyville to some extremely unlikely circumstances. “So you know who we are,” Applejack said cautiously. “Oh, Pinkie Pie here has told me all sorts of interesting things about you all, Applejack, Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Amongst which, I imagine, were a number of even more interesting things that are true only to herself.” “That reminds me, why are you letting Pinkie Pie summon you like this?” Twilight asked. A moment later, she realized her error. “Oh! I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I forgot how close that gets to the sorts of things you spirits are not permitted to tell the living.” “It’s alright,” Blue Belle said with an indulgent smile. “I’ve been spending the centuries, off and on, consulting for my Blueblood descendants. I’ve decided to visit Pinkie Pie here because the current Prince is entirely too good at his job, and because...” She and Pinkie shared a significant look. “...Because she amuses me.” She hoped that this half-truth would be enough to keep anypony from asking awkward questions. Then Pinkie winked broadly at her, entirely ruining the effect. “So,” Blue Belle said, “have you merely brought your friends over to introduce us or—” “We came here to ask you about Emperor [REDACTED]!” Pinkie exclaimed. “WHO?!?!” the demon Blue Belle roared, her flame mane pushing against the boundaries of the containment spell and significantly increasing the temperature inside the tent. “She means Noffony I,” Gilda commented sarcastically. “Weren’t you like, a contemporary of him or something?” “Oh. Him.” Blue Belle said, reverting to normal. “What do you want to know?” As she was waiting for the others to recover from her latest transformation, she turned around to face Pinkie. “How many times have I told you—?” she hissed. “Oh, that was the thing I was supposed to remember to never ever tell anypony ever?” Pinkie asked innocently. “I guess I forgot.” Blue Belle facehooved, thereby proving that she could summon up a hoof to go along with her disembodied head when it was convenient to her. “Pinkie here claims that Noffony was a pony,” Gilda explained, “but since you met him, surely you know better. Right?” Blue Belle did a bit of a double take. “Excuse me,” she said, “but who are you?” “Me?” the griffon said in mock-shock, before pulling herself up into a military posture. “I am Grizelda V of the Emerald Sky pride.” With a smirk she added, “Bearer of the Element of Awesome.” “Oh, you wish,” muttered Rainbow Dash to herself. “G...Grizelda?” Blue Belle asked in bewilderment. “You, you look just like her! There’s a portrait in your family’s hunting lodge.” “Yeah, I know,” Gilda said quietly. “It happens every other generation or so. We all get named Grizelda. It’s so we never forget.” “‘Forget’ what?” asked Rainbow Dash. Gilda blinked as she fought down another flashback to her former life. “Forget something so awful that I hope you ponies never have to know anything like it,” she said, fixing the pegasus with a steely glare. She refused to say anything further. Unseen by the rest, Blue Belle nodded firmly in agreement. “So, uh, Noffony I,” Twilight said, breaking the tension in the tent. “Pony, or griffon?” Blue Belle sighed. “Noffony I was a ‘griffon’. End of discussion.” “There, see?” Gilda said in satisfaction, before doing a double-take. “Wait, did I hear you put quotes around the word—” “I SAID, END OF DISCUSSION!” bellowed the fire demon, smoke billowing out her nostrils with every angry snort. Applejack glanced several times between Blue Belle’s enraged fire form and Twilight Sparkle. “Twi?” she asked softly. “Um, yes?” replied Twilight. “Have you ever considered the possibility that all this divination magic you’ve been studying might have some kind of negative side effects?” Twilight furrowed her brow. “Negative side effects? Like what?” Applejack looked back at Blue Belle, who once again resembled a normal unicorn. “Uh...never mind.” “So,” asked Blue Belle, “any other questions?” “Lady Belle,” Rarity said, putting the utmost care into her tone to convey the proper level of respect, “This is Rarity, as I’m sure you know. I was wondering if, by any chance, you might have pursued the study of genealogy during your centuries on Equestria? It was, if I remember correctly, a popular pastime during your lifetime.” The unicorn head grinned slightly. “It is a good deal more than a hobby for me,” she told them. “I find it an excellent tool for rooting out ponies that could potentially be useful allies, or possible future enemies, of the Blueblood clan. I have a thesis I have developed in the past couple of generations that I may try to have published sometime, about the ways that the parents’ cutie marks affect the cutie mark of the child.” “Oh I thought that the effect was studied and found to be insignificant,” said Twilight. “It depends on some complicating factors,” explained Blue Belle. “Under the right circumstances, it can have as much as one in five chance in determining if the mark will be closely related to one or the other parent’s marks.” “Oh, how fascinating!” exclaimed Rarity. “And would you happen to know my ancestry?” Blue Belle chuckled. “You’re not descended from a thief, handsome or otherwise, if that’s what you’re wondering. Although perhaps that depends on your definition of ‘theft’. I’ve observed that when a noble robs from the poor, it is rarely called by that name.” “A...a noble?” Rarity exclaimed giddily. “Are you implying that I was descended from nobility?” The other ponies unconsciously made room for the near-future arrival of Rarity’s fainting couch. Rarity fanned herself with one hoof as Blue Belle smiled indulgently. (By this point, the “holding hooves” rule had decayed into little more than a suggestion.) “I can’t believe that I was descended from...wait, hold on,” the fashionista said, interrupting herself. “What did they do? Perhaps I don’t want to be descended from nobility if they shamed themselves!” “I warned you, Sugarcube,” said Applejack. “I don’t have to tell you anything else if you don’t want me to,” said Blue Belle, a flicker of red beginning to alight behind her eyes. Twilight began to get suspicious of the fact that the spirit was spending all of her time glancing back and forth between Rarity and herself with a wicked grin on her face. What is she implying? she thought to herself. “No, no, that wouldn’t be right,” Rarity said after some consideration. “Ignorance is most certainly not the answer. If there’s something to atone for, then I will do what is required. So I ask you, dear Lady, with full recognition of the consequences, that you tell me what crime it is that you are insinuating my ancestor was responsible for. What, precisely, was stolen?” “Oh not much,” answered Blue Belle, grinning nastily, “at least in the estimation of the pony responsible. Just wages...freedom...permanent disability...” “Permanent disability!” exclaimed Rarity. “Oh, but don’t worry!” Blue Belle replied with a cruel tone in her voice. “These were not pony lives ground to nothing in the gem mines of Trottingham province. Merely Diamond Dog lives. And how much are they worth?” Rarity gasped in shock. “I’ve been treating them so awfully!” she exclaimed. “Stealing gems from their rightful land! How could I be so heartless as to treat those noble creatures as abysmally as my cold noble ancestor! I’m a monster!” And, having reached this conclusion, she then fainted into her designated chaise lounge. “Rarity, you were entirely in the right,” said Twilight, resting a hoof on her shoulder. “My research showed that those Diamond Dogs were squatters, who stole land that rightfully belongs to the Crown for public use. You are definitely not stealing from them!” Rarity looked warily up at Twilight. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she asked, “but you did say the source of my gems was public, not private land, yes?” “Well...yes,” Twilight said reluctantly, “and technically, that does make you a thief—” “I knew it!” Rarity cried, burying her head in a pillow to sob. “But you just have to get a permit!” the mage insisted. “This is nothing on the scale of your ancestor, who...” Twilight’s eyes went wide, as her brilliant analytical mind suddenly put together the clues left by Blue Belle together with her family history. “Nightingale!” she suddenly cried, leaping backward a couple ponylengths, as if the pony on the couch had suddenly transformed into a poisonous snake. “‘Nightingale’?” Rarity asked, sitting up, her tears of a moment before forgotten. “Twilight,” Applejack asked, “what exactly did the last Nightingale do that was so awful that she abandoned her name?” “She got rich running a gem mine in Trottingham province,” Twilight explained, “but then it was revealed that her profits were entirely due to her enslavement of the Diamond Dogs her mother had paid to emigrate to Equestria.” She turned her back on Rarity as she struggled to deal with deciding how she felt about this revelation. Applejack whistled. “Rarity Nightingale,” she said, trying the name out for size. “I don’t know if I can get used to calling you that.” “Twilight,” Rarity said, getting up off of her couch and approaching the other unicorn. “Twilight, darling, I do hope that this hasn’t changed matters between us. We are still friends, right? You yourself said the other day that your family’s animosity towards mine was entirely irrational.” “Yes, that’s right,” Twilight replied, turning to face her. “I certainly bear no ill-will, especially since the family resentment really boils down to the fact that your ancestors were the innocent cause of our family deception to be revealed. But I shudder to think what would happen if my family ever finds out.” “Well I’m afraid they are going to find out, sooner or later,” Rarity said, quietly but firmly. “I shall not be proclaiming the truth from the rooftops, but I will not deny it if asked of me. I shall continue to pursue my destiny of becoming a top fashion designer, but now I will be doing it at least in part so that I can work to repay the Diamond Dogs for the wrongs of the past. Even the squatters that you tell me are in the wrong, are probably in that position because of what my ancestors did to their ancestors. I will right this wrong, on this I swear...as a noble. Even if I do not deserve the title in name, I will strive to be worthy of it in deed!” “Bravo!” exclaimed Blue Belle. “I was always fond of the Nightingales in my own lifetime. They were peasants in that time as well, but nevertheless among the noblest ponies I ever knew, regardless of birth.” “And besides,” Spike reminded Twilight, “the Nightingales are the closest living desendants of Star Swirl the Bearded.” “That’s right!” Twilight exclaimed, as excited now as Rarity had been upon first learning of her ancestor’s nobility. “I had always hoped to find a descendant with a secret history of their own about Star Swirl!” “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Rarity said, “but you know far more about my new-found ancestor than I do.” “But there’s Blue Belle’s theory about qualities inheirited down family lines!” exclaimed Twilight. She seemed to be vibrating in place. It reminded the others of Pinkie Pie, before one of her episodes. “You know what sort of magic I possess,” Rarity said carefully, trying to reign in Twilight’s growing mania. “It is sufficient for my purposes, but nothing really grand. I’ve certainly tried numerous times to slow down or reverse time in order to get an order in before a deadline, but I’ve never succeeded.” “Oh, temporal magic was only one of the areas that Star Swirl specialized in,” said Twilight. “He was known among his contemporaries for the extreme care and delicacy of his spell work, something that you also excel at! Why didn’t I see the connection before?” “Rarity...” Applejack warned. “I’m trying to calm her down,” Rarity replied, “but nothing is working!” “We could bonk her on the head with a clown hammer,” Pinkie Pie suggested brightly. “That always works on me!” “Hey wait a second!” exclaimed Rainbow Dash, pointing a hood accusingly at Blue Belle. “You’re doing this deliberately!” “Doing what?” Blue Belle asked innocently. “Driving us apart, that’s what! And making Twilight crazy.” “That’s implying that any of you ponies are ever sane in the first place,” observed Gilda dryly. “You’re wrong, Rainbow Dash,” Blue Belle replied, ignoring the griffon. “Rarity brought this on herself with her question. And Sparkles are always high-strung. Although I’ve observed that it’s gotten worse over the generations instead of better, a negative side-effect of selecting spouses for their attention to detail.” “I’m OK, I’m OK!” Twilight insisted, although the continued dilation of her pupils suggested otherwise. “As an adult mare, Rarity, your magical abilities are fixed, so there’s no need to stress over anything worrisome like examining you right now for magical residue. Now your sister on the other hoof, well surely she’s old enough now for some magical training, training I’d be more than willing to provide—” “Watch it, Sparkle,” Rarity growled. Blue Belle sighed wistfully. “Ah, this reminds me of my fights with Zody. Such fun!” “You better watch your mouth, Missy,” warned Rainbow Dash. “Who wants to hear exactly how Rarity’s greedy ancestor was taken down?” the spirit asked in a loud voice. “Ooo! I do! I do!” cried Pinkie Pie, her obligatory box of popcorn at the ready. “It was a sensational exposé by the greatest reporter of all time, Firefly II,” said Blue Belle, her eyes fixed on Rainbow Dash. The pegasus in question desperately tried to act like the name meant absolutely nothing to her. That meant that the first reaction came from Pinkie instead, or rather from her box of popcorn: it spontaneously combusted. “Her?!” Pinkie Pie asked incredulously. “You mean that jerk ruined Rarity’s life too?” “Hey, don’t be calling Two a jerk!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “She’s, like, the only one of my ancestors who wasn’t a jerk.” And then she realized what she said, and put her hooves over her mouth, but it was too late. Twilight Sparkle gasped. “You’re a Firefly? The Hall of Heroes must have a half-dozen portraits of your ancestors! Why have you never told us this before?” “Because they’re worse than your family, Twilight!” the pegasus exclaimed. “They want to control every single moment of your life. What you eat, who’s allowed to be your friend—” (she looked at Fluttershy) “—who’s not allowed to be your friend—” (she looked at at Gilda) “—and exactly who you’re going to be when you grow up. My generation already had their soldier, so no fancy flying allowed for me! ‘Fire Boom, get back to your meteorology,’ they’d say, or ‘Fire Boom, stop flying so much.’ I had to run away from home to become my own pony!” “And to come up with a new name, it appears,” Rarity commented. “But you did become a meteorologist,” Fluttershy pointed out. Nopony heard her. “You really should apologize!” Pinkie exclaimed, pointing a hoof at Rainbow Dash. “Apologize? For what?” “For what...she...with...I can’t tell you!” Pinkie exclaimed in frustration. “So how am I supposed to apologize, then?” Rainbow asked indignantly. “Yes, you really should apologize for your ancestor’s boorish behavior,” said Rarity, already adopting the upraised muzzle of a noble without realizing it. “Hey, my ancestor was just telling the truth,” Rainbow retorted. “Your ancestor was the one who should have been watching her back.” “And your ancestor should have remembered her place as a commoner, and refrained from telling tales!” Rarity said with a toss of her head. Rainbow zoomed over and hovered in Rarity’s face. “Say that again! I dare you to say that again!” she cried. “Girls, I don’t think we should be breaking the circle,” Fluttershy said quietly. “And your ancestor used passive aggression to bully every pony around her!” Blue Belle said to Fluttershy. As she said this, the flickers in her eyes burst into full flames. The pale yellow pegasus shrank. “Oh, dear! Do I do that?” An incensed Gilda stepped between the two. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “Pick on somebody who’s willing to fight back!” “Watch it, squirt, or I’ll tell the others how the original Grizelda provided the spark that ignited the Griffish Revolution,” Blue Belle threatened. “You wouldn’t!” Gilda cried out in fear. Blue Belle laughed as her eyes turned completely red. “Ah, this is so delicious! I won’t have to feed again for years!” Twilight suddenly suspected that the wild rumours that made spirits a close relative of windigos might not be far off of the mark. “Applejack, we have to do something!” she pleaded to the always level-headed mare next to her. “I’m on it, Twi,” the cowpony said as she pushed back her hat. “Hey, Blue Belle! What do you know about my family’s founder?” “The founder of the great Apple family?” the spirit of Blue Belle asked, her fur glowing with power and her voice echoing. “She was nothing but a thief, who considered everypony a mark to be exploited.” “Yup. I know it, and I’m proud of it,” Applejack said, puffing out her chest. “What?!” everybody else in the room exclaimed. All the shouting, all the accusations, all the hatred, suddenly was replaced with confusion. “Why in Celestia’s name would you be proud to be descended from a thief?” Rarity asked, channeling the spirit of the room. “Well just think about it,” Applejack explained, “Mallus started as a pickpocket, and look at us today! She had to steal her food, and now her descendants feed half of Equestria! How can you not be proud of a story like that? And Mallus herself started it all. She was caught after stealing from the Princess—” “Hold on!” cried Twilight, teleporting the one hoofswidth necessary to get into Applejack’s face. (What? The moment required drama, as Rarity would say.) “Your ancestor stole...from Princess Celestia?” “Yup!” Applejack bragged. “I never heard of no other pony who got away with doing that! Not that I condone stealing, of course,” she quickly added. “But if you’re gonna do the wrong thing, might as well go all out, am I right?” “Wow, that Mallus sounds like my kind of pony!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “But she did eventually get caught?” Twilight asked, hoping desperately for proof that her rock-solid belief in her mentor’s infallibility had not just crumbled around her hooves. “Oh of course,” explained Applejack. “And she was sentenced to plant appleseeds all across Equestria by Chancellor Leap Frog [2], which she did so well that her children got into apples for a living.” Translator’s Note #2: Oh, that’s cute. “Leap” because of “voltige”, and “Frog” because of Fisby. I was wondering what sort of trace he might have left in Pony memory... “Well, that’s not the reaction I was expecting,” Blue Belle said, as her features returned to normal. “Oh!” she then exclaimed. “I lost control of myself, didn’t I? I’m so dreadfully sorry about that.” “Oh, I forgive you,” said Fluttershy. “We got to find out that our ancestors all had an effect on each other’s lives. Except for mine, that is, who was just a bully...” Blue Belle bowed her head. “I’m sorry for giving you the wrong impression, Fluttershy. Your ancestor was sort of a bully, the same way I was a bully through most of my life—a bully for good, somepony who only pushed around those who tried to make life miserable for everypony else. I worked closely with her, and so did Morningstar and Eveningstar Sparkle.” “My ancestors knew Fluttershy’s?” Twilight asked eagerly. “What was that ancestor’s name?” “Butterbold Fluffykins,” Blue Belle said with a smile. “Ha!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, “With a name like that, I believe it!” “I never knew anything about my family, other than what Mother told me,” Fluttershy confessed. “And she didn’t like her relatives enough to tell me anything.” “Well that’s because...” Rainbow Dash began, before stopping herself. “Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Fluttershy turned to face her. “And aren’t you glad you don’t have to keep your family a secret anymore?” “Well I dunno,” Rainbow said cautiously. “Are any of you planning on treating me differently because of my family?” “Wait, you don’t want us to treat you like you’re great because you’re a Firefly?” Pinkie Pie asked. “No, I want to be recognized for what I do, not them,” Rainbow replied. “OK, I’m going to make a note to myself,” Pinkie said, pulling her notepad and pencil out of her mane. “Treat Dashie the same despite her family, but treat Rarity like royalty because of her family.” “Pinkamena Diane Pie!” Rarity exclaimed. “I did not say that I wished to be treated any differently for being discovered to be a member of the illustrious and once-powerful Nightingale Clan—although it would be nice.” She added this last part in a much quieter tone. The other ponies gave her a disparaging look. (Gilda did as well, but this was indistinguishable from the way she looked at any pony she was not friends with, so it was hard to tell. Spike remained silent, which was his only defense against awkward girly moments in general.) “Oh, you know I was only joking!” Rarity added, entirely too eagerly. “I suppose I’ll need to research the family’s crest.” “Chequy sable and gules, a needle argent embedded bendy,” Twilight answered automatically, thereby revealing that heraldry was yet another subject she was conversant in. “A silver needle on...black and red?” Rarity said, translating the blazon into Equine. “How gauche! I simply must get that properly coordinated.”