Ponyville Town Hall was currently gushing with water.
It was a considerable improvement on earlier. Earlier, it had been set on fire.
The interior of the building had been done up rather nicely for the Summer Sun Celebration, with banners and flower baskets hanging from its balconies and rafters, the circular walls streaked with swallowtail and pennant banners, and the stage covered over with curtains for the surprise. There had also been tables placed around, arranged near the circumference like those last few spectators at a party who refuse to dance on the floor with everypony else. Sun symbols could be seen here and there. It was somewhat appropriate that they now had huge scorch marks on them.
Through the mess of floating tables a unicorn swam, cheeks puffed up with a breath held back. She rolled her eyes and headed for the surface.
Outside, two ponies had climbed into the neighbouring fountain and were watching the water currents rush past them. They went to one side of the fountain’s pool so that the statue in the middle did not obscure their view.
It was occurring to the two ponies that jumping into a fountain to avoid getting wet wasn’t a stellar example of logical thinking at work.
The first earth pony wrung the few remaining drops out of her mane – a tricky operation with only hooves and pasterns – and tried to revive the curls.
“Well, that’s certainly a night to remember,” Bonbon said, shaking her head so hard that her hair flapped back into shape. “Is the pink strip still in?”
“Er,” said Berry Punch, peering at the locks that had just been thrust in front of her face. “Yes. It’s still there.”
“Good. You know how long it takes to dye it correctly? It'd take less time to make liquorice bootlaces.”
“You dye your hair?”
“Well, yes. You don’t think I’m a natural purple and pink, do you?”
“Oh? I never would have guessed. It doesn’t exactly stand out.”
They both stared at the Town Hall. Waterfalls were now gushing out of the topmost windows, and one or two pegasi were washed out onto the street. On the ground around them, ponies of all colours were fleeing with sodden manes, leaving a lot of wet prints in the grass.
“So,” said Bonbon, “what have you got to say for yourself? First night of catering, berry punch included and all that?”
Beside her, the lumpy-haired companion rubbed a fetlock against her other leg’s cannon, the equine equivalent of scratching one’s forearm guiltily.
“Do you think I overdid it with the punch?” Berry said to her hooves.
“Well, now, that depends entirely on what the words ‘overdid it’ signify,” said Bonbon. “If, by ‘overdid it’, you mean leave the berry juice out overnight to ferment it and, I quote, ‘bring out its flavour to make it more interesting to drink’, then given the considerable evidence currently pouring out of the upper storey windows, and the unplanned moat extension now surrounding the Town Hall, then I have to say the sensible answer would be: yes, you overdid it.”
They watched with silent awe as the Town Hall roof began to bulge. Wooden beams and oak rafters groaned with the water pressure building up behind them. Both of the spectators took a step back. A spout of water burst from the spire, creating a local downpour.
“If, however, by ‘overdid it’ you mean get up to the most impressive antics and punch-induced mayhem afterwards, most of which seem to include trying to cook the buffet tables twice because the food was going cold, then, as surprising as it is for me to admit so – given that you have the track record of a fire-fighter working down arson’s street around bonfire night when it comes to eventful nights out – then the only honest answer would be: no, you did not.”
Berry Punch whimpered. She’d been a bad girl again, she knew it.
“Who was it who, you know…” Berry gestured to the lake around them, “…anyway?”
“I think it was Sea Swirl.”
“What did she do? Did she turn on all the faucets?”
“No.”
“Oh, good. That would have been impressive: there aren’t any faucets in there.”
“No,” said Bonbon, like a mare who’d just been ambushed by her memory, “it was Seafoam. Definitely Seafoam. They do kind of look alike,” she added in her defence.
“Ah, I see,” said Berry. “I always wondered what her cutie mark was for.”
Bonbon slid back into staring at the Town Hall again. “Hm? Oh, yeah, her cutie mark. You never guessed?”
“Well, in the middle of town, so far away from any sea, and with nothing bigger than the town brook if you want a swim? Hard to see how your special talent could have anything to do with dolphins.”
“Ah, you need to think more symbolically,” said Bonbon. “See, the dolphins represent water generally. The gambolling represents… represents…” She struggled; Berry Punch had a rather suggestive mind. “…represents playfulness.”
“Well, why not have a few drops on her flank, like Raindrops does? Or bubbles? Derpy’s got bubbles for her cutie mark.”
“I guess you just have to see her unicorn talents in action. Don’t ask me,” said Bonbon irritably. “I don’t make up the rules for cutie mark magic, do I?”
“I like your accent, by the way.”
“Don’t push it.”
The water seemed to be easing off by now – the downpour had stopped, and the bulge in the roof was beginning to go down. All the windows were still gushing, though. Over the town rooftops, they could see winged ponies converging onto the dome. Golden armour gleamed on their chests and helmets, and as they came closer the two spectators could make out the silhouettes’ distinctly thickset builds.
“That’ll be the Royal Guard,” said Berry. Bonbon hummed in reply.
White pegasi touched down around them and waded towards the veranda. Some had been carrying unicorns underneath, clamping their columnar legs around them and letting them drop a few feet before touching down themselves. The dark unicorns – as heavily armoured as their airborne comrades were – rushed forwards immediately and began calling for buckets.
Over the furore, Berry heard Bonbon sigh under her breath. She found this more interesting than the rush of the few ponies still around to help.
“Something on your mind, Bonbon?” she said, not unkindly.
Neither of them spoke for a while. This was partly because the first wooden buckets had been gathered – scavenged from the florists’ and with the flowers thrown out – and partly because several nights out and a lot of parties had sharpened Berry’s social senses, which were now telling her not to push the issue too far if Bonbon didn’t feel like it.
“Lyra’s going back to Canterlot this year,” Bonbon said.
“Oh?” said Berry, while in her head the juicy-o-meter that had nothing to do with fruit beverages began to ping. “I didn’t think you two knew each other particularly well.”
“We went to the park together.” Bonbon sat down. The sad splash that soaked her flank didn’t seem to faze her. Berry sat down likewise: she couldn’t have been fazed if she’d had to roll around in the mud for this.
“At least she won’t be alone,” Berry said. “Sparkler’s going too. I heard that Rarity might join them, but I don't think she can afford the fare yet, and as the saying goes: two’s a company, three’s a crowd. Besides, the chariot only accepts two.”
“Yeah,” said Bonbon, still not looking up.
“Good friends, are you?” Berry would have made a good investigative journalist, if a rather unsubtle one.
“She made such lovely music. It was amazing what she could do with the lyre.” Bonbon took a deep breath.
From a distance, they could see the guards accepting buckets from the residents – the pegasi using their wings, the unicorns using telekinetic magic – and they were beginning to form single file.
“I guess it’s for the best,” Bonbon said. “If Celestia says they have to go, then… they have to go.”
The bucket chain wasn’t nearly long enough. Guards were shouting for the residents to join in, but there was still a way to go before they reached the brook, and the residents didn’t have years of military training behind them. What they did have were years of milling about parties flitting between conversation groups, and it showed. A few chastisements and one or two barked orders quickly got them moving, however.
“Why did Celestia say that they had to go?” Berry asked on an impulse.
“Sorry?”
“I said why’d they have to go? They’ve already been there once. They came from there. It’s not like they have to re-sit their Canterlot school exams, now, is it?”
“Didn’t they tell you?” Bonbon blinked at her in surprise. When Berry shook her head, Bonbon added, “Well, didn’t you ask them?”
Berry shrugged. “Didn’t think there was anything to ask until you mentioned the Princess.”
“I only found out because Lyra told me in the park. There’s this unicorn up there. They’re keeping an eye on her well-being.”
“Why?” said Berry.
“She’s very important. The Princess wants a few unicorns from Ponyville to meet her, get to know her, and generally sororise with her.”
“What’s sororise mean?”
“It’s like fraternise, but more feminine.” Bonbon waved a hoof dismissively.
“Ah.”
The bucket chain was finally ready. Empty buckets were passed along the right of every pony, towards the front-most Royal Guard, whose horn was glowing. A bucket glowed with the same yellow aura before it dunked itself into the artificial lake, scooped up some water, and passed itself back along the left side of the line. The water was carried, hoof-to-hoof (occasionally hoof-to-magic-aura-to-hoof), and then emptied into the brook before being passed forwards again. It was hard to count, but there seemed to be about eight buckets active along the one line. More ponies were rushing with extra buckets to form a second chain.
“Do you think we should go and help?” said Berry.
“Only if you can walk in a straight line again.”
“This unicorn you mentioned,” said Berry, nudging her friend in the ribs. “She must be very important. I’m not one to go against any attempt to make more friends, just so you know, but I’m still wondering what the big deal is. What’s so special about her?”
Bonbon closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts for the final deliverance.
“Her Highness says the very fate of Equestria rests in her hooves. At least, that's what Lyra told me.”
She stood up and splashed her way to the edge of the fountain, hopped over the stone bordering it, and flinched when the resulting eruption of spray hit her mane again. Berry watched her carry on with a sulky pout on her cream-furred face.
“What’s her name?” Berry said, thrashing the water aside on her way to help. Bonbon waited for her to catch up.
“Ah, I don’t remember. Night Light, or something.”
Orange clouds glowed over the horizon. Sunlight peered over the distant hills like the eye of a golden coin that had caught a bright light. A winged silhouette glided silently towards them from the east.
Both ponies jumped out of the lake, and stopped to shake themselves down. Berry watched the approaching unicorn overhead.
“To think,” she said in awe, “how privileged our town is. Most towns only see the Princess once every few years, and here we’re going to see her twice in a row. We’ll be doing this exact same thing again next year!”
Bonbon screwed up her lips and looked over the flooded Hall, the bucket chain, and the rush of ponies around them.
“Not quite,” she said. “Next year, we’ll get someone else to do the catering.”