//------------------------------// // Little White Lies // Story: Sugarfree // by Wade //------------------------------// Little White Lies • • • • “Sunny! Sunny! For the love of Celestia, please—!” Joe desperately dangled from Sunny’s hind legs as she hoisted herself up the side of the towering castle walls, “...pleeaaassee don’t do this!” Sunny Skies gave a few spirited bucks, trying her best to shake off the heavy stallion as she lurched over the top of the stone wall. By the stars, he was persistent. She turned a deep shade of red as her struggles slid Joe lower and lower, his hooves wrapping around her lower belly and his head pressing against her flank in a scattered attempt to keep his grip. Sunny mentally reset the counter on the ol’ Centuries Since Last Open-Hoof Grope of the Royal Derriere signpost. This century’s winner: the local donut baker! Keep shooting for the stars there, Celestia. “J-Joe I have to! It’s my job! I’ll be fine!” Joe squeezed tighter, his hind legs now braced against the stone wall as he tugged at her midsection, frantically trying to stop her from going over the top. His face was flush with strain. “Have you gone completely nuts?! Because I totally get that!” Joe pulled with everything he had, spurring Sunny to clamp down on her hooves with stubborn bluster. “But breaking into the bucking castle?!” Sunny wiggled her hips from side to side, shimmying the stallion far enough down to pull up a hind leg and bring it down on his shoulder a couple of times. His grip slid, then gave, dropping Joe flank-first onto the ground. With a less-than-graceful fat-grunt, Sunny hoisted herself up onto the top of the wall, collapsing into a limp, heaving heap. Holy horseapples she was out of shape. Joe scrambled to his hooves, quickly glancing around the area for any passing guards or royal staff. “L-look I know this is freaky! I’m freaking out too! But you’ve gone completely off the deep end here, Sunny!” Sunny rolled onto her belly, still panting as she glanced down at the frantic unicorn. “Just… trust me on this... okay?” Sunny huffed between panting breaths. She put her head back, taking in a few deep breaths before looking back down to the baker. “I mean it! I’ll be fine! I have to check on the princess!” Joe shook his head with stunned stupefaction, looking to Sunny with pleading eyes. “How can you possibly think about work right now?!” He scoffed, his voice cracking into hysterics as he gestured toward the moon. “I’m pretty certain you have the day off! Maybe spend it sobbing under the couch in the fetal position, like I plan to!” Sunny sighed, turning to stare up at the seemingly endless lunar expanse above. The red aurora had only become lighter and brighter, now more of a white-pink than a dim crimson. Eerily, it was the brilliant moonlight behind the aurora that had grown stronger, not the red lights themselves. How, Sunny couldn't imagine. Moonlight came from the sun, and reflected off the moon. She could feel the sun on the other side of the planet, stuck in place. It was unthinkable that the light could reach Canterlot from where it rested. Not with this intensity. It was almost like the moon itself was generating light, rather than reflecting it. But that was impossible. Sunny turned, and lowered her gaze to look across the courtyard. Her ear twitched. She couldn’t see beyond the edge of the hedge maze, but she swore she heard the gentle hum of classical music, mixed with the murmur of polite conversation and the light clinking of glasses. It sounded like... a garden party. A garden party in the middle of the castle grounds. She involuntarily scoffed at the sheer blind absurdity of the idea. The moon itself hung mere miles overhead, the Element of Laughter had grown into some kind of Tartauran nightmare, and somepony was having a garden party on her lawn. She ran a hoof through her mane, casting a wayward glance at Joe. The last thing she needed right now was to have to worry about him. “Listen, Joe, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m going, and that’s that.” She crouched low, positioning herself to drop onto the top of the hedge bush below. Joe’s ears flattened against his head with broad displeasure. “Go home, stay safe, and just... wait this out.” Silent as a mouse, Sunny pushed off with her hind legs and dropped atop the hedge bush. She gracefully balanced herself on the full, narrow bramble for a moment before scuttling to the edge and quietly leaping to the ground, just beside the maze entrance. She’d become extraordinarily adept at sneaking into her own castle, in recent years. Gracefully ducking patrols, deftly darting between hidey holes, boldly stealthing about in silence — under normal, non-apocalyptic circumstances, it was all really quite fun. More than a little absurd, certainly, but... necessary, if she wanted to keep her social life separate from the pomp and fuss of the crown. ‘Sunny Skies’ was something she needed her subjects to know nothing about. They just... they wouldn't understand. Celestia didn't like keeping secrets from her ponies, if she could help it. Truly, she didn’t. They deserved far more from her than that. For over two thousand years, her ponies had given her their undying loyalty, their heartfelt devotion, and their blessed, boundless love. That should have been enough. She wanted it to be. But... it wasn’t. At the end of the day, in every way that mattered, she was terribly, terribly alone. Each passing generation regarded their beloved princess with ever greater awe, and ever deeper humility. They saw in her such vaulted eminence, such celestial grace, such impossible power, that she had become to them more goddess than guardian. With the dawn of each new century, their love and adoration would push her higher and higher above them. Farther and farther out of reach. Her ponies no longer thought of their princess as ‘down here,’ at their side. She was 'up there,' in the castle, or in the sky, holding aloft the sun and the moon like some heavenly spirit in an old pony’s tale. Distant and divine. A million miles away. Sunny closed her eyes and took in a deep, calming breath, letting the rush of air carry away her troubles. She didn’t have time to dwell on such nonsense. Popping her head around the side of the hedge maze, she glanced toward the east wing entrance. Clear. Wherever her guards had run off to, it wasn’t here. Without a moment’s hesitation, she briskly cantered out from the cover of bramble, toward the waiting doorway. As she passed across the open lawn, the commotion from earlier struck her once more. Only now, it came through quite a bit louder without the buffer of the hedge. She looked to the door, then to the open lawn just around the corner. She knew she shouldn’t bother, but... a garden party, here, of all places. Of all times. Sunny bit her lip, and hastily scurried around the corner to take in the sight. Scores of Canterlot’s movers and shakers intermingled with palace staff, chatting and laughing with one another as a full classical ensemble filled the air with a dignified melodic drone. Rows of open firefly bulbs cast a warm orange glow over anything not flooded by moonlight, setting a calming radiance to the formal affair. Glasses of chardoneigh and white wine danced about as ponies boasted and chuckled with rehearsed candor. It was as if nothing at all were the matter. Her eyes wandered to a breathtakingly ornate crystalline sculpture, evidently hoof-carved, facing out from the side of the hedge maze. She knew her lawn, and she knew her statues. She certainly didn’t have any that were made of... rock candy? Sunny squinted as she pawed at the smooth, semi-transparent substance. The details were utterly spectacular. She had never seen such stunningly minute hoofwork, from the immaculate detailing along the cornea of the reptilian eye to each individual hair follicle along its expansive coat. Unbelievable. She took a step back, taking in the towering figure. Pinkie Pie. Rather, the creature Pinkie had become. Of the countless questions that swirled about her mind, the simple logistical ones confounded her the most. How had anypony gotten such a good a look at Pinkie, acquired a solid block of rock candy, and sculpted such an impossible likeness in so short a time? Sunny slowly shook her head, looking at the fangy grin and wavy tendrils of supersaturated sugar. There was something strikingly familiar about some of the more reptilian bits. Stepping closer, she pressed a hoof against the sculpture’s chest, leaning forward to gaze into its smiling eyes. It was right on the tip of her tongue. Those eyes. Where had she seen them? Sometime recent, somewhere quite old. It... almost reminded her of— The air buckled and tore with a sharp cracking sound. Sunny startled as Joe’s side collapsed through the head of the sculpture, shattering the stunning display into a thousand pieces. She had time enough for her jaw to drop in shock before his back bounced off of the crumbling torso and came down on her like a wet sack of potatoes. She let out a muffled squeak of surprise as his considerable bulk planted her into the grass. Joe flailed about for a moment before finding his bearings, and rolling back onto his hooves. Sunny gasped for air, her frazzled pink mane pulling up with his body, then flopping back down over her face. Sunny heard Joe’s breath catch in horror as he surveyed her flattened body. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry!” She felt Joe’s powerful forelegs wrap around her shoulders, hoisting her out of the ground like a limp weed. "I-I just— you made all that tight-rope walking up there look so hoofing easy!" Sunny rocked in place for a moment, eyes wide and bleary, before slowly moving a shaky hoof to her horn and pulling her mane away from the left side of her face. With a seething, deliberate blink, she glared at him with one eye, the other Fluttershyed behind her disheveled pink hair. Of all the times for Joe to go and do something spectacularly loud and stupid. “What are you doing here?!” she hissed, her face burning red with anger. She swatted away his foreleg as he tried dusting her off, doubly irritated by the unwelcome touch. “I told you to go home, Joe! Go home and stay out of this!” Her teeth gritted together in frustration as she noticed ponies gathering around, gasping at the rubble of crystalline candy that was now spread across the lawn. “It’s a miracle we’re not flank-deep in guards right now!” Joe gave an apologetic look. "Ye— I got that, yeah. Sorry. Sorry! Don’t freak out." He shooed the chattering onlookers away, sprinkling about flustered apologies for the clamor. He waited a moment for the last of them to move out of earshot before turning back to Sunny. "We’re probably fine." Sunny glanced up and down the lawn. Clear, thank the stars. Joe might've been right. With a relieved sigh, she glanced overhead, catching sight of a single, oblivious moori guardsmare briskly floating past. Her swollen snout was wrapped with a bright pink bandaid, with her forelegs bundled around a tall, unwieldy stack of papers. Sunny frowned as she noted her scruffy, snow-white mane and lithe build. Joe’s sister. Please don't look down please don't look down please don't look down please please please please please A sudden gust lifted the top page off the stack of papers, sending it swooping erratically into the air. Sunny felt a wave of dread wash over her body as the mare made a frantic swipe for the paper and completely whiffed, spinning just far enough downward to see every horrid thing. Seraph’s narrow draconian eyes bulged, darting from side to side as she took in the horrifying scene. “Whoa, what the?!"  Sunny facehoofed. "HEY!” • • • • Seraph fluttered to the ground beside her brother with flat irritation. He offered nothing more than a shaky smile, wrapped in an adorable, pleading shrug. She knew that look. It was an old Joe standby, from when they were foals. One that the big lug trotted out for broken vases and oven fires, as if to say, ‘okay, I totally did this, but aren't these charcoal fritters punishment enough?’ It worked way more often than it had any right to. Naturally, she’d tried the Joe Maneuver herself, growing up, but Mom was noticeably less taken by her glistening, razor-sharp fangs than she was with Joe’s cuddly, coltish charm. Seraph told herself it was just the braces, but... yeah. Mom made it pretty clear, in the looks she gave, and the distance she kept, that Seraph wasn’t cute, like her brother was. She was weird, and scary, and strange. Seraph flopped her papers onto the lawn with a loud thwap, casting a suspicious look toward the small white mare quietly hiding behind her pink mane. She recognized her, of course: her brother’s nutso kind-of marefriend, Sunny Skies. Joe had a thing for those delicate, la de da Canterlot elites. Her tufted ears flattened against her head as she surveyed the saccharine mess. Ugh, what a disaster. First, this morning’s spectacular screw-up with Fugitive Gilda’s escape, and now... family members vandalizing priceless works of art, on the castle lawn. She was gonna get turbo fired for this. Seraph pressed her face against her foreleg in exasperation, before slowly pulling it away to reveal a heavy glare aimed at her brother. “Are you nuts?” she hissed. Joe’s smile evaporated as she pressed a firm hoof against his chest. “You know you’re not allowed near the castle, after what you did! If the princess sees you running around, bucking up her fancy-ass sculptures, she’s going to blow a gasket!” She lifted the candied bust of Pinkie Pie from the ground, staring into its eyes with awe. “This is like, an edible offense, Joe.” “Oh... like.... they’ll make me eat the... eat the pieces, or something?” “I mean like, Princess Pinkie will literally eat you!” Joe’s eyes widened, glancing at Sunny for a moment, then back to his sister. “I... literally literally? Has... Pinkie really eaten anypony?” She looked away, running a forked tongue against the back of her cheek. “Well... no, not really. Not yet, anyways.” Seraph stared straight ahead for a moment, mulling it over. Some part of her just flat-out knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that that was something Pinkie would totally do, if she got angry enough. “I... guess Luna wouldn’t allow that, right?” Joe half-smiled, clearly more than a little flabbergasted. “Uh well, I mean, I’m guessing Celestia wouldn’t either, right? Aren’t the two of them doing something about this?” He gestured a hoof toward the beaming lunar ceiling above. Seraph scratched her ear. “...Who?” “Celestia.” Joe’s eyes glanced away, then back. Seraph seemed completely baffled. “Princess Celestia?” “Heh, what?” “The... our princess! THE princess!” He stood in stunned silence for a moment as his sister’s expression remained as nonplussed as ever. “...Princess Celestia!” Nothing. Joe began counting on his hoof. “Founder of Equestria? Mover of the sun? Ruler of our entire country, for like two thousand years?” Seraph picked at the tip of her hoof with staggering disinterest. “Mm-hm? Anything else?” “Yes! There are other things! There are infinity other things that she’s done!” She rolled her eyes. “Is this from a book or something?” • • • • Joe stared at his sister for a moment, trying to figure out her game. She seemed completely serious. How in the hay could someone like her forget her princess? She lived to please those two! He gestured toward the candy head on the ground. “Okay so... you’re saying that Pinkie Pie was made into a princess, right? That’s like, what,” Joe tapped his hoof with the other a couple of times. “—Five princesses now?” “Five pr— there’s two, Joe! Princess Pinkie and her sister, Princess Luna!” Joe ran an exasperated hoof through his mane. Where to even start? “Okay... okay, who was the princess before Pinkie?” She laughed. “What is this ‘before Pinkie’ malarkey?” “She’s been a ‘princess’ for like six hours! Who was princess before her?” She gave him a baffled look. “That is such a weird, ridiculous, philosophical question to ask.” “How is that at all weird?” “You’re asking what was there before the Pinkie Party started, right? That’s like asking what was there before the whole dang fool universe began!” She drew her hooves wide, in a pleading gesture. “Who in the hay knows any of that crap?” Joe facehoofed. He took a deep, calming breath through his nose, opening his eyes. "What about the moon, then? Hrm? Hovering right above us? Doesn't that seem just the tiniest bit off?" Seraph turned her head up, giving him a suspicious look. “...Are you joking?” “Am I joking?!” “No I mean, are you Joking.” She narrowed her eyes. “You been smoking Poison Joke again, big bro?” Joe groaned, rolling a quick glance to Sunny. She still looked broadly mortified by the entire thing. He turned back to Seraph, lowering his voice to a sharp whisper. “That was one time! I was a colt!” Seraph snickered. “So lemme get this straight. You’re high as a pegasus, running around the royal courtyard, bucking statues over.” She shook her head, like he was a cat with his head stuck in a tissue box. Her eyes widened slightly as her gaze passed over his cutie mark. “Weh!! And your freaking cutie mark isn’t covered?! Like the one place you should never have that thing out in the open is here, at the castle!” Joe cringed. The bandages. They’d been pulled off at some point during the night’s surreal disaster, revealing his real cutie mark for all of Canterlot to see. Joe turned to stare at his flank. It hadn’t even occurred to him. “Look, I’m sorry about the statue. It was an accident, and I’ll pay for it, I swear. I... I was just...” I was helping an insane friend I barely know break into the castle. “...Sunny and I need to see the princess.” Seraph raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, about little miss sunshine, over there." Fluttering over to the stack of diplomatic papers, she slapped a hoof against the top of the pile. "They got every dang thing up there in the Archives, turns out. Files on diplomats, nobles, palace staff... even saw one on your marefriend here." Sunny went pale. Joe rolled his eyes. "Sissy, for sun's sake. You’re not supposed to read that stuff. You're gonna get yourself fired." "Pffft it was ‘research,’ then. Call me paranoid, but when my brother's new squeeze goes around picking fights with royal guards over a couple donuts, it's probably worth lookin’ her up." Joe flustered. "She's not my marefriend, we're friends. She's fine, Seraph." "Yeah? Do you even know what she does for a living?" "I didn't ask! Customers don’t usually talk about work." He glanced at Sunny with a shrug. "Some kind of administrator or something, for the castle." Seraph made two little air quotes with her hooves. "She's the 'Superior Undersecretary  Notary of theeee—’ “ She turned her foreleg around to read the tiny scribble of writing under her fur. “ ‘—Gravitonic Ordination Department.' Which is just, like, come on. That is a brave new world of phoney buzzword horsecrap." Joe looked away. “Everypony’s got flowery, important-sounding job titles up there. It’s just how things work in the castle.” Seraph hovered off the ground, spreading her hooves wide as she leaned forward. "Joe that is like... the fakest job name, I’ve ever heard. You know when she last showed up for work? Forty-six years ago." “Okay, you obviously read that wrong.” “I read it like seven times! There were old-timey, black-and-white file photos and everything! Same cutie mark, same mare.” She buzzed over to the nervously smiling Sunny Skies, pointing a hoof at her. “So what is it, huh? You a Changeling? Some kinda Mesmer? Hrm?” She narrowed her eyes, floating inches from her face. “Or are you just a white pony, with a pink mane, forging a cutie mark that isn’t hers?” Sunny took in a deep breath. “It’s nothing like that." She looked away. "...It’s nothing sinister.” Seraph scoffed, folding her forelegs. “Let’s hear it, then.” She looked at Joe, then at Seraph, then at the ground. “You... would not believe me.” “You're gonna have to do better than that, lady.” • • • • Sunny slowly lifted her gaze to meet Joe’s. She could see it, pressed up against those pleading emerald eyes. Fear. Fear that maybe his sister was right, that maybe he'd been played a fool. Fear that maybe Sunny Skies was nothing more than one big, ugly lie. She felt something deep and raw pull at her heart. It was as if all that she was — that thing that made her really her — was being wrung out like a wet rag. It was an old, unpleasant, sunken feeling, one she hadn’t felt in ages. Sunny’s ears fell flat against her head. They would never believe her, she knew that. It was truly, unthinkably absurd, to imagine that the immortal princess of all Equestria — their lone, ageless constant, the very sun in their sky — might choose to live as they did, down here. Drinking coffee. Waiting in line. Laughing at stupid jokes. Talking just to talk. There was no way their tiny little lives could possibly hold a candle to the splendor, and the magic, their princess lived each day. She knew they felt this way. She understood that. And yet, in a very real way, she was afraid. What if he did believe her? She could lose it all, in a single moment, with a single word. Joe would never look at her the same way, ever again. To be so close, one moment, and so very, very distant the next... it was a terribly cruel, terribly lonely thing. That would come, in time. It always did. But right now, she wanted this. For just a little while longer. “I... can’t.” Joe’s expression fell in the tiniest, most restrained, most devastating way. She looked away, to the ground, to her hooves. “I just can’t.” “Psh, thought so.” Seraph fluttered toward Sunny, menacingly rolling up a pair of imaginary sleeves. Quickly, and gently, Joe placed a foreleg in her path, halting her in place. He gave his sister an odd look, one that seemed to stop her in her tracks. She narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to read what he meant. Just to be sure. Then, with an annoyed sigh, she landed. Joe turned to Sunny, lowering his foreleg to the ground. “That’s really you, in the file. In the photo.” Sunny nodded. “...How.” Sunny looked away. Joe pressed a hoof against his forehead, against the long, jagged crack down his horn. He was silent for a moment. “I know you’re not lying. It’s just...” He shook his head. His mouth opened, then closed. She looked at him with dread, into eyes that silently pleaded for honesty. Joe took a deep breath. “...Please don’t toy with me.” Sunny gave a warm, tiny smile. “I would never.” Joe’s expression softened. That feeling, around her heart, faded at the sight. Turning to his sister, Joe opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated when he noticed a deep, furious blush across her face. Seraph’s eyes were glued to the sky. He blinked, confused, then followed her gaze. Sunny held a curious look on the besmitten moori for a moment, before looking skyward. Barreling through the clouds above, flanked on all sides by jubilant moori pressing up against her sides, was the enormous beastly form of Pinkie Pie. She seemed to be excitedly chattering to her companions as she drifted in a slow, lazy spiral. Below her, flocks of pegasi glided toward the castle, ready to resume their posts. Sunny felt a wash of dread as they drew closer. They would be here in moments. “Joe, we have to go. Now.” • • • • Joe swallowed, then looked to his sister. She had a hoof against her cheek, burning red with infatuation. Slowly, she fluttered off the ground, leaving her papers in a pile on the lawn. Joe took a step closer. “...Sis? You alright over there?” Seraph turned to look at her brother, a large, goofy grin stretched across her face. “Wow... she is somethin’, huh?” She giggled behind her hoof. Joe’s brain broke a little trying to process the sound. Seraph... wasn’t a giggler. “The uh... Pinkie?” “Yeah...” She turned her gaze back to the sky, watching the titanic mare pull into a gentle spiral around a large cloud. “Don’t you feel that?” “Feel what?” Seraph began slowly flapping into the sky, toward Pinkie. Joe startled. “Whoa! Hey! W-what are you doing?!” She waved a dismissive foreleg in his direction as she picked up speed. “I just gotta... wanna check the... see what....” She sort of trailed off as she picked up speed. Joe stared in shock for a moment before Sunny’s hoof grabbed him by the shoulder. “Joe. We have moments.” Joe cast one final glance over his shoulder at his rapidly-dwindling sister, silently praying to Celestia she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Seraph could take care of herself, Joe knew that. But she wasn’t quite herself right now. With a sharp, deep breath, he turned to follow Sunny. As quickly as she could manage, Sunny shooed Joe around around the side of the building, facing the east wing entrance. As they rounded the corner, she stifled a yelp with both hooves as two bulky pegasi guards fluttered to the ground, on either side of the door. She stuttered in place for a moment, locked in a silent maelstrom of rampant irritation and blinding frustration. She was not pleased. With a frustrated snort, Sunny jumped up onto her rear legs and spun around, shooting Joe a peeved glance over her shoulder as she started off toward the party. The Joe Maneuver was not a particularly effective counter. “Stay close.” Joe nodded, with a frown. He had perhaps been the teensiest bit impulsive when he’d decided to follow Sunny on her insane, inexplicable quest. That much was... pretty much beyond question, at this point. He couldn’t just let her go alone, though. Sunny Skies put up a brave front, but Joe knew false confidence when he saw it. She was scared. It would be insane not to be. Maybe she’d be a little less scared with him here. As quickly as they could, without generating any more attention, they rounded the corner and cantered through the bustling garden party, avoiding eye contact with the scores of highborn ponies glaring through half-lidded, pink-ringed eyes at their unkempt appearance and unsightly lack of formal dress. Blessedly, it was at this moment that the regal, bow-tied cellist to the side of the stage grumbled the first line of her next song, drowning the clatter of their frantic hooves under a eloquent classical consonance. He found a small swelling of confidence in that cocoon of music. As the party disappeared behind them, Sunny gestured for Joe to follow her behind a tall bushel of bushes hugging the castle wall. Above them towered a gorgeous stained glass window, depicting the wicked Discord as he lorded over the helpless pony tribes of old, playing them like marionettes. Its beauty was stunning. Joe had never actually seen the piece outside of photos and drawings, but the distant history of the event seemed like nothing compared to the glass itself. The glass just seemed more real. A single moment of an age long past, captured, and given form. Sunny gazed up at the window for a few moments, then to the left, then to the right. She turned to Joe, eyes still twitching with seething frustration. Joe returned a shaky smile, through clenched teeth. “I need you to stand right here and boost me up, Joe. We don’t have long.” Without a word, Joe took her place under the stained glass window, pushed his flank against the wall, standing firm as she pounced on his back. He could feel the pressure of her hooves as she rose up on two legs, doubtlessly trying to get a decent look through the colored glass. “I don’t know if you’re gonna be able to see much of anything, Sunbeam. Those windows are as old as the city. I think the glass is a little mel—” A heart-stopping shattering tore through the air. Joe’s heart froze as he spun his head around, watching in shock as Sunny came down onto all fours, pulling back from a forceful buck. An enormous, gaping hole now ran along the bottom of the ancient window, shattering to pieces the breathtaking depiction of Discord’s sadistic puppeteering. They were just knocking ‘em down tonight. Sunny spun around, and pushed off with her rear legs, pouncing through the window like a squirrel. Joe turned, watching as shards of colored glass dangled and fell from above. He briefly wondered if she would come back for him. A small white hoof poked out from the hole, knocking away pieces of glass along the bottom and sides, widening the opening and making it just a little bit safer for Joe to fit through. It would probably be tight, but if he was careful, he might b— Another white hoof bucked through the window pane, showering Joe’s flank with stained glass. He shimmied his backside a bit, clattering the priceless trinklets to the grass. Alrighty then! He would probably fit now. • • • • Sunny quickly cleared the glass from her second buck off the thick stone windowpane and planted her flank on the edge, letting her long pink tail hang down the side of the wall. Joe looked away. “You uh... you sure about that? You’re not the biggest mare in—” “For the love of Harmony!” She hissed, “Just get up here!” Joe sighed, wrapping her tail around his forehoof and leaping off the ground. Sunny squeaked as his full weight pulled her off her rump and onto her belly. She scrambled to grasp the other side of the windowsill with her sliding hooves, clamping down as tightly as she could. She vibrated with strain as Joe’s hooves hoisted themselves around her midsection in a short upward hop. Alarm bells blared in Sunny’s brain at the sudden touch, rolling back ye olde butt-grope ticker from zero to... well, zero. Big day for art vandalism and touching butts, apparently. She lowered her head with a deep blush as Joe’s elbow curled around her shoulder, bracing itself firmly against her chest. For a moment, she was completely surrounded by the stalwart stallion as he pulled himself higher. Lulu had been right about his smell. Just a little bit sweet. With a grunt, Joe kicked off the wall with his hind leg, hoisting himself overhead. The dark brown hair of his tail brushed over Sunny’s muzzle as he gracelessly flopped over the windowsill and onto his back, slamming against the marble floor with a loud slap that echoed down the endless hallway. Sunny sighed, pulling herself to the lip of the windowsill and gently clacking to the floor. She rolled her eyes at Joe as he righted himself, peeking over his shoulder at the cracked marble indent his body had left behind. “Heh. Whoops.” Sunny stoically turned to face down the hall, desperately stifling a laugh. She really did not want to find that as funny as she absolutely did. Putting her head back for a moment, Sunny valiantly fought her smile back into a frown, then turned to glance over her shoulder. Joe theatrically bit his hoof, sending her an exaggerated, adorable ‘whoopsie daisy’ look through a barely-restrained grin. She laughed. It was a dorky, unrehearsed little snort-giggle that she immediately pushed back inside with the back of a flustered hoof. Joe pointed a hoof at her with a smile. “Ahah! There it is!” Sunny waved her hoof. “We s-should move...” She stammered through a chuckle, gesturing down the long, roofless hallway. “My— the guards. They’ll definitely have heard that.” Joe nodded, and moved beside her as they broke into a brisk gallop. The halls were open and empty, eerily bright from the white-pink moonlight that poured in overhead. As they’d travelled from Joe’s apartment to the castle, earlier, Sunny had seen Pinkie giggling as she pulled off the roof with a strange, shimmering rainbow magic. The tiles and planks would float, free from gravity, before whittling into a white, dusty powder. Hers was a strange and surreal power, a power she seemed to have complete control over. It was one of many things that she shouldn’t have been able to do. As they rounded the corner, Sunny held a hoof in front of Joe, slowing him to a trot. In the distance, she could see nobles and palace staff scurrying through the hallway. Moving boldly, with direction and purpose. She gazed at their energetic bustle with flat resignation. Evidently all it had taken to properly motivate them was the literal apocalypse. Sunny turned to Joe. “Slow down, a little bit. We won’t draw much attention this far in, so long as we look like we belong.” They settled into a trot, seeing the throne room draw near, several hundred feet ahead. She swallowed, looking straight ahead. She could see Joe staring, out of the corner of her eye. He really, really wanted to ask her something. She could probably guess what that was. She glanced over, catching his stare for a moment before he startled and locked his eyes forward. Joe stiffened. “Sorry.” He looked away. “...You look good for sixty.” Sunny was silent. She noticed Joe glancing about, holding his gaze on certain doors and certain ponies as they passed by. It was like he was expecting somepony to call him out. She hesitated for a moment, then looked in his direction. “Have you been to the castle before?” Joe blinked, somewhat surprised, looking into her eyes. He quickly caught himself, turning to look ahead. “Oh, not uh... not since I was a colt.” He was quiet for a few moments. All that could be heard was the sound of their hooves clacking against the marble. “I kind of caused a big, awful...” He wound his foreleg for a moment, trying to think of the right word. “...thing, a long time ago.” Sunny held a hoof to her mouth, thinking back to their argument with Joe’s sister. She had said something about Joe being banned from the castle grounds. “How... big, exactly?” Joe went pale. Sunny gave him a sympathetic look, bundled with a tiny, reserved little smile. She used it often, at work, and with her ponies, to let them know they could tell her anything. That they could trust in her. “I hurt the princess.” • • • • Joe felt his heart sink as Sunny’s face fell. It was shock, and maybe a little disgust. It felt like he’d hurt her, a little. He could almost see her pulling away from him. It was a stupid idea, to tell her. The last thing Joe wanted was to scare her away, and that’s exactly what he was doing. But he also felt like she had taken a huge chance on him, telling him what she did. She could’ve lied. She had every reason in the world to do so, but she didn’t. Maybe he could take a chance on her as well. “...I was angry, and I was afraid, and I forced her to do something. I was too small and weak to do it myself.” He looked away. “If she knew I was still around... if she ever remembered... I don’t know what she’d do to me.” His ears flattened against his head as that old pit in his chest sunk just a little bit deeper. “I wish... I wish I could tell her I was sorry. That I was stupid and scared and desperate and young, but that would be for me. She doesn’t need that. She’s happier never knowing it happened.” He chanced a look up at Sunny. She had her hoof around the back of her head, looking at the ground as she walked. Thinking. She looked utterly shaken. He should stop. This was a mistake. “The eye.” She looked him in the eyes, then to his cutie mark. “...What is your special talent?” “...Donuts.” That wasn’t a lie. It was what he was good at. What he wanted and wished to be meant for. “I’m really good at baking donuts.” “I mean your real one!” Joe was silent. He had told nopony since he lost his magic. It wasn’t him anymore. It never was. “I...” He looked away. “I could see lies. In the air, like they were real.” He slowly rose his gaze to the long, jagged crack down his horn. “It was like there was this whole other layer to everything, to the world, and I could see just this one, stupid, tiny, useless little part of it.” He felt Sunny’s eyes on him. “...I felt like maybe that little part wanted to be seen. I... I know...” He gave her a sullen look. “I know that sounds insane. I thought maybe I was, for a while. It absolutely sounds insane.” Her expression was completely blank. She just listened. He had no idea if she was furious or sympathetic or morbidly curious or what. He could do nothing but trust she would believe him. “When I got a little older, I realized I could... push them away, if I wanted. I could pull out the truth, and shoo away the lies, like they were parasprites. It felt like that was what the world... wanted to happen. Like that’s what the world needed to be. So I did it.” With a blink, Joe looked away. The end of the hallway was rapidly approaching. Beyond, there was just the vacant, open, moonlit throne room. “It made things go very wrong.” • • • • Sunny could think of nothing to say. She didn’t remember anypony like the one he was describing. She certainly didn’t remember banning anypony from the castle, for hundreds of years. Then, she thought back to the framed photo on his coffee table, to that little amber colt with the starburst of burned fur. It occurred to her that she had imagined an incredibly, unusually vivid picture of the event. One that felt real enough that, perhaps, it hadn’t been her imagination at all. Perhaps it had happened, and she had seen it, and she had been there. She thought of her signature on the back of the framed photo. Sunny didn’t remember how or why, but she had come to see him that day. She would do so for any little foal, in any such condition. Accidents of that severity were rare, but they did happen. She made an effort to visit each and every one, to remind them that no matter what happened, no matter their mistakes or their fortunes, they were loved, and they always would be. Over the years, it was hard to remember them all. She did her best, to immortalize each and every pony in her mind, but one could only remember so much. It was different for timeless ones like herself, and her sister. If she did not think of them often, they would fade. She had to cling to the odd little details, the striking ones. The things that made the memory special, and unique, and real. The reason it had become a memory in the first place. There had been one odd little detail about that amber colt, when she considered the photo. His little sister, clinging to him on the bed, tight as she could. It was not remotely common for families of another race to adopt a moori. It was notoriously difficult to raise them properly, and fairly, without being able to identify with their unusual needs and predatory inclinations. She found it unexpected, and impressive, that Parish had attempted to do so. The thought of Joe’s father fluttered to her mind a smattering of other, tiny, forgotten moments. Speaking with Parish, beside his colt’s bed. She couldn’t see the little one’s cutie mark, under the hospital blanket, and she remembered little out of the ordinary about his abilities, as they were described to her. He had been talented in reading faces, in understanding body language. He was vaguely emotionally perceptive. ‘Donut Joe’ certainly didn’t seem to fit the colt she had in mind, but the similarity in appearance was obvious. The more she thought on it, piece by piece, the more clear the image became. She remembered looking into the colt’s wide, fearful green eyes. She had said something, to set him at ease. She’d asked him his name. “White Lie.” Joe’s head shot to the side, looking at Sunny with horrified surprise. “H-how did—” He looked up and down her body, as if trying to place, for the hundredth time, where he might have seen her before. “—where did you hear that name?” She looked ahead. “I... I’m older than I look.” Joe’s face fell, in a small, subtle way. He seemed to regard the answer with distant acceptance. “If... you heard about it, if you were there, did... do you know if anypony ever told her? Did the princess ever find out?” Sunny looked into those wide, fearful green eyes. It was him, she had no doubt about that now. “...No. No she didn’t.” There was a moment of absolute silence as Sunny and Joe darted behind the raised platform of the royal throne — empty, thank Harmony — to scamper across the ornate, ancient marble tile. The royal bedchambers were close. As they reached the entryway to the long, towering hallway, Sunny stopped to look out at the unthinkably massive crowd of ponies that spread out across the castle grounds. They had caught hints of its size and scope on the way to the castle, but to see it... it was magnitudes larger than anything she might have envisioned. A Pinkie Party to end all Pinkie Parties. Every conceivable type of celebration, every flavor of party, squeezed shoulder to shoulder across the city. The sound alone was overwhelming. Dubstep played over high classical played over folk rock played over numerous, numerous vocal-heavy musical numbers; the melodic clash filled the air to capacity. Just below was the hearty buzz of animate conversation, heated exclamation, high-falutin’ pontification, and riotous laughter. Sunny had never seen anything remotely like it. She gawked at the sheer, impossible scale of it all — stretching from the steps, up the main road, into the city, and across every street and neighborhood — and gazed, for a time, in sheer stupefied wonder. It was incredible and terrifying and delightful and absurd, all at once. With a baffled shake of the head, Sunny jumped up on her hind legs and spun around, shooing Joe down the hallway. He trotted beside her in muted discomfort, eyes glued to the loose, flickering, unspooling mess that was once her sunlock. It still clung over the colossal entrance to the royal dining hall, appearing as a etherial wad of melted gum, its frayed edges wafting aimlessly around the sides. Without magic to sustain it, the lock would scrunch and warp, until it bunched and fell errant, unweaving into nothing. She didn’t dare imagine what might happen if the lunar growth locked within managed to break out, with nopony to stop it. She knew that the arrival of the moon and Pinkie’s transformation had to be related, but how, and in what possible way, she simply had no idea. It all depended on time she was almost certain she didn’t have. One step at a time. She needed to deal with Pinkie, and wrest back control of her castle. There was only one possible way to do that, circumstances being what they were. As they rounded the corner, Sunny slowed Joe to a stop before the towering oak doorframe of Princess Luna’s bed chambers. Joe looked on with utter horror as Sunny retrieved a piece of chalk from her mane and gently pressed it against the base of the doorway. Swiftly and expertly, she drew a perfect circle, enclosing a series of strange, ornate markings, flanked by diligent ancient Equestrian wording. Sunny hoped against hope that there was enough of Harmony left in this castle to ignite a magic circle. It was far from ideal. Hoof-drawn magic circles were dramatically less powerful or efficient than the direct, unspoken connection to the elements. Even the act of putting into language, then into writing, what one wanted the spell to do, diluted its strength. Magic could understand the intent of the spell, as you laid it out in the circle, but compared to knowing exactly what you wanted, in your mind, it was a shadow of the real thing. She hoped a shadow would be enough. Stepping back, she watched as the markings slowly, glacially, crept to full luminance. Sunny exchanged a wary look with Joe. He clearly had no idea what she was thinking, and no idea what she was trying to do, but he didn’t say anything. He gone with her this far; evidently, he was trusting her on this too. The door clicked, and with a deep, calming, steeling breath of air, Sunny pressed her hoof against the door, and pushed it open. • • • • The bedchamber of Princess Luna was decidedly less draconian than Joe was hoping. No spikes, no cages, no skeletons, no spiked cages made of skeletons. For some reason, as a colt, he’d always imagined Nightmare Moon had this huge, twisted-looking telescope through which she plotted her sinister, midnight raids on naughty foals. In reality, there was a pretty sweet brass telescope jutting out of the side of her wall. Like everything else, it was tasteful, and lovely, and well-used. In fact, that was the one thing he really liked about it. Everything she had, seemed to have some use. Nothing superfluous, or decorative. It was far more sparse than he ever would’ve imagined, considering she co-ruled the largest country on the planet. Sissy had explained this surreal normalcy to him once or twice, during her first week on the job, but he never really believed it until now. Joe wondered if the princess had ever expected anypony to just waltz into her room like this. Maybe she didn’t think about appearances in that way. As he looked to the overfull trash bins, packed with snot-soaked tissues, and to the rows upon rows of fans haphazardly placed around her unkempt bed, he couldn’t shake how lived-in it was. Real. For the first time, probably ever, he thought about the princess as a mare. A withdrawn, introverted mare, with the weirdest, hardest, loneliest job in the world. Sunny scurried toward the back of the room, where untold scores of books lined the oaken walls. It looked like a poorly-run, underfunded public library, with books stacked on top of others in random and obtuse angles. Others were face-down, or open, or both, and all were just stuffed with bookmarks. Luna had only been back from her exile for a couple of years. That was a lot of books to burn through in just a few years. Joe watched with surprise as Sunny leapt straight up and swatted at a large, unremarkable tome, tucked between dozens of identical books. It jostled a bit, poking out onto the rim of the bookshelf and hanging precariously near the edge. Sunny scrunched low, and sprang into the air once more, clenching the spine of the book between her teeth and pulling it free. With a light hop, she dove onto Luna’s bed, and pawed open the dusty tome. Joe followed, sitting beside Sunny as she wound about a strange, metallic mechanism embedded into the hollowed-out book. She looked up at the moon as she wove the circular ticker one way, then the other, then back. A tiny springlike lever popped up, which she batted a few times, at odd angles, then twisted, then pressed in. There was a short, quiet click, and Sunny stoically raised her hooves into the air, swatting the face of the mechanism with a brisk, forceful bop. With a snap, the compartment sprang open. It was full of strange, varied, utterly unrelated items. A patch from a uniform, hundreds of years old, a sock, a hoof-carved likeness of Princess Celestia, shaped out of some kind of prismic rock Joe had never seen before, a pocket watch, a red pegasus feather, a bundle of yellowed letters, tied together with string. It was like ponies from dozens of different eras had filled the same time capsule. Sunny breathed a long, heavy sigh as she gently prodded through the items. Soon, she found what she was looking for. Dangling from the back of her hoof, on two tiny, incredibly intricate necklaces, were two little gemstones. One orange, one blue. Each no bigger than a raspberry. She held a solemn look on the jewels for a moment, holding her other hoof against the back of her neck. Lost in thought. After a weighted moment, she carefully placed them both around her head, and pulled them down around her neck. As she reached to close the book, Joe’s hoof held her back. She glanced up at him, in surprise. Joe’s eyes were glued to one particular object, one of the larger ones, buried near the bottom. He squinted, moving his head from one side, to the other, just to make sure. “Sunny.” He reached in, as gently as he could, and removed a small, hidebound journal. Its cover was etched with beautifully precise, fiercely sharp, eerily alien markings. Without hesitation, he opened to the first page. He found it littered with similar text; filled, from page to page. He had never seen a language like this. He gazed at it with wonder, then glanced up at Sunny. “What is this?” She took the journal in hoof, and touched her other gently over its cover. “It’s a cookbook. A friend of mine gave it to me, as a gift. A very long time ago.” Joe stared at her warm, nostalgic smile. That was the truth. Or at least, she really thought it was. He rose his hoof just above the cover, gesturing around the booklet. “Do you see that?” “...See what?” Joe gazed in dubious fascination at the dim, winding ephemera that coiled about the journal. It looked kind of like a lie, but it wasn’t a lie. It was something else. It moved in a different way, felt a different way, and seemed, in ways he had no words to explain, truly, powerfully important. “Nothing... I guess.” He reached for the journal, and carefully took it from her. She looked at him, quite unsure. “I... I think we need this. I can’t really explain how I know that.” Sunny gave him a baffled look. “The cookbook?” “I know. Just... trust me on this.” He could think of only one way to explain it, but it sounded utterly, utterly insane. It was like the world wanted him to have it. Joe knew better than anypony that the world didn’t know what it wanted, when you got down to it. The world wanted the impossible. But with this? There was a kind of confidence there he had never quite seen before. A certainty. Joe trusted the world about as far as he could throw it, but this… this felt like it went beyond trust. Like it just needed to be. Sunny held a curious look on the booklet for a moment more, flipping it around to inspect the rear face, then back. She took one last glance at Joe before sliding it into her mane, and closing shut the box. Joe nervously glanced to the doorway, his ear twitching at a distant sound. He saw nothing. He turned to Sunny with an anxious look. “We should go. I have no idea what time it is, exactly, but it’s getting late. This is the last place we want to be once Princess—” “My my, this is unexpected.” Joe froze. The bite mark on his flank throbbed in terror at the bone-chilling sound of Princess Luna’s voice. It... was probably dawn, wasn’t it. Slowly, fearfully, he turned to the doorway. The towering alicorn held an odd, playful look up on him. He wasn’t sure if that made him more or less terrified. Her voice was soft, and teasing, and... flirty. “The handsome little baker.” Definitely more.