//------------------------------// // A Doubt of a Shadow - Part Two // Story: Fluttershy's Shadow // by Broken Logic //------------------------------// Fluttershy’s Shadow Written by Broken Logic Chapter Two - A Doubt Of a Shadow - Part Two Shadow’s desk was littered with inadmissible letters and orange peels, remnants of his past few hours of sorting mail. A clock on the wall, its face reading half past two, ticked a quiet beat that sent a faint, monotonous echo through the office room. The post wasn't usually dispatched until after three, when all the mail had been ordered to ensure maximum efficiency of travel to delivery ratios in accordance with the travelling postmare algorithm. The silence was broken by a sharp snort, given by an amused Shadow. He had just deciphered a particularly illegible note that was finally determined to be addressed to Miss Cheerilee, the teacher of Ponyville Elementary School. Shadow guessed it was from the little foal, Apple Bloom, judging from the terrible handwriting and the fact that the returnee’s name read “Applejack (really).” The destination scrawled on the front of the letter was simply “school.” He let the image of the little yellow filly frolic inside his head for a while until the foal ran into a mailbox, breaking its post in half. Jolted out of his daydreaming, he reached inside his current bag of unsorted mail. The next message he drew out was addressed to Derpy. “Miss Derpy, letter for you,” he said.  Sliding out of his chair, he trotted around his desk and passed the letter to the mailmare. Derpy was also occupied with the task of categorising mail, and she first filed the letter in her hooves before she reached out to take Shadow’s delivery. “Thank you, Shadow,” she said. He bobbed his head in response and headed back to his desk. He stopped midway, however, when he heard Derpy give a small gasp. Quickly looking back, Shadow saw that her eyes were fixed on the back of the note, where the sender details were printed. “What's wrong?” he asked, his forehead scrunching. “It's from Compass,” she replied, hugging the note to her chest. Although tears welled in the corners of her shut eyelids, she let out a long, relieved sigh, and a tension that Shadow hadn’t notice before melted off her shoulders. “Oh, good.” Shadow relaxed, letting out a breath. He gave Derpy an understanding smile. “I was starting to get worried, too. We haven't received a letter from him in a while.” Shadow watched her cradle the letter for a time, and then asked, “Are you going to read it?” “You know I never do,” she answered softly. “I miss him so much that it would hurt, trying to glean what little I can from these few words. I'll wait until he comes back, so I can hear it from his own mouth, in his warm hooves. Just knowing he is alive is enough for now.” Shadow nodded in assent. Still, it was good to know that his friend hadn't been eaten by an ursa, or worse, on his trip to explore the lands outside Equestria. Even more so, Shadow hoped the stallion would return soon. While he understood the necessity of Compass's journey, the consequences of otherwise resulting in Compass succumbing to the highly dangerous Cutie Mark Failure Insanity Syndrome, Shadow couldn't help but worry for Derpy. She was raising two children alone, and while he helped out as much as he could, nothing would replace a real father and husband. “Back to wizard, Shadow. We have llama more witch to do.” Derpy had composed herself and was already rummaging a post bag for another letter. Shadow hummed in response, and sat back down at his desk. He swept his orange peels into the wastebin next to his desk and picked another bag to sort. As he pulled out the first letter, he wondered what his friend would think of his bumbling attempts that morning. Knowing him, he'd probably suggest something as outrageous as publicly challenging Fluttershy's shadow for her honor. Pinkie Pie waved good-bye to Rainbow Dash as the pegasus left to perform her weather control duties. Good ol’ Dashie, Pinkie thought, thankful that her friend had piggybacked her all the way to the ground after her ride up had crashed on her, and watched the speedster zooming off until she was obscured by the clouds. Back to work, I guess, she thought with a guilty smile, realising how much time she had taken off for a personal errand. Pinkie Pie was still flushed from the exhilaration of the ride and she bounced it off through the park where she had been dropped off. The sound of talk and laughter filled the air as groups of ponies enjoyed a nice picnic in the rare warm afternoon weather of that autumn day. As she waved to Lyra and Bon Bon, who were habitually hanging out on a park bench, Pinkie’s heart filled with joy at seeing the smiles of the happy picnickers. The infectious white, uncontainable grins of a pack of little foals playing tag were too potent on her, and she could not help but beam as she continued on her way. As Pinkie was hopped past a family with a tantalisingly sweet-smelling apple pie lunch, she espied a familiar trio of respectively yellow, white and orange fillies huddled off in the distance. They were gesturing and conversing industriously around a diagram scratched on the ground with a stick. “So the plan is t’pull the rope as it comes down the hill and catch it as it bounces back,” Apple Bloom said, summing up her scenario to the nods of three other ponies. Apple Bloom’s eyebrows furrowed as she felt a moment of puzzlement, but she couldn’t quite put a hoof on why. The reason reared itself as a frizzy pink head, which hadn’t been there when she had started talking, loudly introduced itself. “Hey, girls! Watcha doin’?” Pinkie asked, a spring even in her voice. “Aaah!” they cried in unison, startled by her seemingly sudden appearance and falling on their rumps. Pinkie had popped into the huddle a while before, but only now the three fillies noticed her, and they looked up into her hugely grinning face. “Oh, it’s just Pinkie Pie. Hi, Pinkie Pie,” Apple Bloom said, first to recover. “We were just tryin’ t’get our cutie marks! We heard that there was this bear rampagin’ across the park, stealin’ ponies’ picnic baskets. So we thought we could try bein’—” “Cutie Mark Crusader Park Rangers!” the trio exclaimed in unison, clopping their right hooves together. “But,” Sweetie Belle spoke hesitatingly, “we’ve been at it all day and haven’t made any progress.” The filly deflated visibly as she let out a sigh. “Who knew bears could ski so well?” With a dispirited frown, Sweetie Belle’s head swivelled a slow, dejected circuit towards some zig-zagging trails leaving furrows in the leaf-blanketed ground, a testament showing that piles of fallen autumn leaves made a perfect substitute for snow to inventive bears. “Come on, Sweetie Belle. Don’t give up!” Scootaloo encouraged her white filly friend. “We’ve had loads of close misses. He was just lucky, is all.” Apple Bloom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll get him yet!” Apple Bloom told Sweetie Belle, patting her on the back reassuringly, then turned to face Pinkie Pie. “So, what are you doin’ here, Pinkie? I thought you’d be at Sugarcube Corner around this time o’ day?” “I was just visiting Rainbow Dash to tell her the news,” Pinkie told them, flipping her hoof indifferently. Her eyes then lit up. “Oh, do you know about the news?” “Rainbow Dash? What news?” asked Scootaloo, interested by Pinkie’s zeal, but unable to ignore her fan inclinations. “Ninjas, and Fluttershy got flowers from some pony!” Pinkie answered both questions. “What?” The three fillies exclaimed in unison. “Who?” “Where?” “Ninjas?” “When?” they fired in rapid succession, eager to hear the details. “You know,” Pinkie Pie speculated, “Rainbow Dash asked me those exact same questions, except about the ninjas. Too bad I don’t know, huh? Why? Are they important?” The trio looked at her sincere, inquiring face and shared a look. “Well, yeah, Pinkie,” Scootaloo told her, sporting a wry grimace. “They’re the first things you’d normally ask.” “Oooh,” Pinkie exhaled, as if she’d learnt a very important lesson. “Well,” she continued, hoofing her chin, “if you want to know more, you’ll probably have to ask Twilight or Fluttershy.” “Come on, girls. Let’s go find Fluttershy and see if we can be—” Apple Bloom paused as the three fillies got into their positions. “Cutie Mark Crusader Matchmakers!” they cried, all rearing back into a heroic pose and then dashing off, completely forgetting their park ranger duties in their rush to find Fluttershy. Pinkie waved them off and continued her trek back to Sugarcube Corner, happily bouncing and humming. In the midst of an arc, she was struck by inspiration. A party rocket! she thought with a twinkle in her eyes. Pure genius. Then she was struck by two separate combinations of Pinkie Senses. The first: double twitchy ears, itchy nose, twitchy flank and a spontaneous expansion, a new one there, and the other: a simple twitchy tail. At the bottom of the arc, she was struck by a bear. The woodland creature had skied out of nowhere and crashed into her, sending it, and the stack of picnic baskets it was precariously balancing, flying. Pinkie hopped on, oblivious to the assault, not to mention miraculously impervious, as her mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of drawing up a blueprint for complex machinery constructed with scrap materials and confectionery. That girl, Rainbow Dash thought dryly. Even when something as significant as Fluttershy getting flowers happens, she still doesn’t wait for all the details. Though that's just Pinkie Pie, I guess. It wouldn't be like her to play with a full deck of cards. Not when she already has five aces... Rainbow Dash pulled out the parchment she had collected from the weather bureau in town. It was a rota stating her duties, and it told her that her first stop was Sweet Apple Acres. Her orders called for a small shower on the west fields, provided by some passing clouds. So, Rainbow mused, turning over a different subject as she flew towards her destination, Fluttershy's found herself a colt, has she? Well, good for her. Maybe she'll dare to be more assertive now. Thinking about Fluttershy's weakness brought up another issue, causing her loyalty to light a fervid fire in her stomach, fueled by her protective instincts. As soon as I find out who the pony is, I'm going have to make sure he knows not to hurt her. Or I will Sonic Rainboom his flank! She slowed the rhythmic beating of her wings once she reached Sweet Apple Acres, waving friendly to a large, red colt that she passed on her way to the west fields. When she arrived, she was happy to see that there were a few rain clouds meandering about already. Good to know the bureau has accurate predictions once in a while, she thought with a chuckle. The pegasus picked a plump nimbus cloud that looked ripe to bursting and positioned it over the middle of the field. Using it as a foundation, she pushed the other errant clouds together to form one large stratus rain cloud. Pleased with her creation, Rainbow Dash wore a smirk as she flew to the centre most point on the top of the cloud and made a light landing upon her work. It sloshed heavily like an oversized waterbed, producing another grin on her face. As Rainbow Dash bounced a jaunty rhythm on the cloud, careful not to kick up unexpected thunderstorms, her mind drifted to planning pranks she could perform on Nightmare Night. There was the old favourite roaming thunder cloud, a chilly hail cloud for dropping ice down the neckline of ponies' costumes, and the new cotton-candy cloud with which she’d bait Pinkie Pie. She was also planning on hiding behind the Nightmare Moon statue and scaring fillies with a bloodcurdling voice. She had been practicing her accent for weeks. Thinking of statues... Abruptly, the image of a particular royal guard imposed itself on her thoughts. Ugh, not again. She moaned and raised her eyes skyward in annoyance. That pony always comes up when I think about pranks now. The white-coated guard didn't even crack a smile when she went all out with the googly eyes and wagging tongue, and thinking about it now caused her galled grimace to grow. She forcefully turned her mind to other things, but the only other detail that stood out in her mind was Pinkie's new flying machine. However, it was then that she was hit with an idea. Remembering the absurd invention Pinkie had come up with had suddenly inspired in her a new trick. “It’s gonna be sooo awesome," she squealed to herself. Having dispensed a great deal of its contents, the raincloud under Rainbow Dash was markedly whiter. While her initial bounces had caused torrents of water to dump out of the rain cloud with each impact, her last few collisions had only squeezed out a few drops at a time. She halted her springing and watched the deflated steam puff wobble. Then, taking off from the cloud with a sprightly leap, she looked at her handiwork below. The entire field was damp and the apple trees glistened pleasingly. A smug grin plastered itself on her face for a job awesomely done. Her task here completed, Rainbow Dash rushed off, flapping her wings with extra zeal. She was eager to reach her next job so she could finish her duties early and head back to her cloud-home and clear, stunt-worthy skies. When she had a new move she wanted to perfect, nothing could slow her down. And so, when she almost collided with a grey pegasus near edge of Sweet Apple Acres airspace, she was in too much of a hurry to do more than shout back an apology. "Sorry!" Rainbow Dash yelled to the dazed victim, who had been spun around violently by the speed of Rainbow’s passing. Despite managing to avoiding a head-on collision, the close encounter caused the other pegasus to fumble a small brown object that dropped towards the farm. However, Rainbow Dash had her head up too far in the clouds to notice. Big Macintosh looked up from his ploughing towards his farm hand. Caramel was bucking an apple tree with a slow rhythm of lethargic kicks, and the only response the stallion gave when an apple dropped onto his head, issuing a solid bonk, was to give it a bemused stare. Big Mac shook his head, tousling his orange mane, and wondered what was bothering his old friend. Caramel had been acting odd of late, at least more so than usual. He bucked apple trees without bringing buckets to catch the fruit, he watered fields with empty sprinkling cans, and weeded the onion patch of onions. He had even tried to shear the sheep with a toothbrush. Something needed to be done before he set something on fire. Again. Today. Big Mac unhitched his plough and wandered over to where Caramel had taken up professional sighing, a few fallen apples cheering him on. As the larger farmer tried to pick the right words to say, Caramel noticed his presence and greeted him first. “Hey, Big Mac. Already done with the ploughing?” “Eeyup,” he replied, noticing by the increasingly faraway look in his eyes that Caramel’s focus was already quickly departing. He decided to say it plainly while he still had some of his assistant's attention. “Caramel, is there anythin’ wrong? You’ve been distracted lately, and it's makin’ me worried.” “What?” Caramel asked, giving a tilt of his head. “No, there’s nothing wrong. Although, I guess I have been messing up more than usual lately. My leg still smarts where Scootaloo bucked me in the shin. You think I'd know the difference between a her and chicken. Though, there was the time I tried to find eggs under Derpy. To this day, I don’t know why she was in the chicken shed.” He gave a resigned sigh. “Maybe I am just a little tired from preparing for Nightmare Night. I’ve been working on a costume all month, and it's been eating into my nap times.” A large yawn escaped him, as if to reinforce the point. Big Mac stared at him with a skeptical skew of his jaw. Big Mac knew Caramel’s current state was more than just case of late nights. But he didn’t want to press it and accepted the answer for the moment. “If yer sure. Just remember. You can always talk to a friend.” Big Mac took a look over Caramel’s progress. Despite his languid approach, the stallion was almost done harvesting the batch. Big Mac decided that maybe a little more rest couldn’t hurt the problem. “Take the day off early. Catch up on your sleep. I’ll finish up here.” “Thanks, Big Mac,” Caramel responded, smiling appreciatively. “See you tomorrow, then.” The red stallion watched him walk down the road towards Ponyville, cringing as Caramel collided with a fence. And again as he was hit by a falling muffin. Big Mac took a brief stint himself in professional sighing. Pinkie was greeted by a friendly, high-class voice as she entered her home and workplace. Luckily, Mrs. Cake had taken the finished muffins out of the oven in her absence and the place wasn’t on fire. Again. Today. “Welcome back, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity called as Pinkie came through the door. She was lounging next to Applejack at a table set up for eat-in customers. In front of them, two mugs filled with hot chocolate gave off a gentle steam. Applejack tipped her hat at Pinkie’s arrival. “Afternoon, sugarcube.” “Hey guys!” Pinkie bounced over to them with a grin. “What brings you to Sugarcube Corner?” Applejack inclined her head politely to Rarity. “I wanted to buy an apple pie as a gift to make up with Sweetie Belle,” explained Rarity, acknowledging Applejack with a grateful smile and taking her turn first. “We got into another argument today, and I feel just awful. I hope she’s not still angry. You haven’t seen her around town, have you?” she asked, jutting her bottom lip out and frowning her eyes imploringly. “Yeah, I met her over at the park with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom,” Pinkie informed her. “She seemed pretty happy when I saw her.” “Oh,” Rarity said, her face torn between relief and indignation. “That’s good. I guess...” Seeing Rarity had finished her explanation, Applejack took a swig of her drink and began her own elucidating. “I’m just here to pick up a couple o’ treats for dessert t’night. While I could bake ‘em m’self, I know you make the best apple surprises, Pinkie Pie.” “Awww, thanks, Applejack,” said Pinkie with a warm smile, gratified by the praise. In the background, Rarity’s indignation won out. “I can’t believe she forgot about it. Here I am, all worried about her, even getting her a present to make up, and she’s off having fun with her friends,” Rarity said crossly, more to herself than to Pinkie and Applejack. “I feel betrayed, nay, heartbroken. Does my sister do this to wound me?” Ignoring Rarity’s lamentations, Applejack moved on to the next item of conversation, dodging the odd flourish of a hammed-up hoof as the unicorn’s monologue continued to get increasingly passionate. “Twilight said she was visitin’ you today, Pinkie. So I guess you already know about Fluttershy’s new admirer?” Applejack asked over Rarity’s elegy. “Uh-huh!” Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. “So,” she paused pregnantly. “Who is it?” “What?” Applejack gave her a puzzled look. “Didn’t Twi tell you we don’t know?” “No, but it was probably because I dashed off to tell Rainbow Dash about it as soon as she told me Fluttershy was given flowers.” Applejack gave her a knowing look, her lips compressing into a wry line. “Well, we’re not sure who it is,” Applejack continued, a hoof on her Stetson as she ducked another melodramatic, swooning gesture, “and all we have to go on is a note that don’t tell us nothin’ much. Fluttershy thinks it was from her shadow, seeing as she found it with no pony around except for it.” “Oooo, her shadow,” drawled Pinkie, as if she thought it was a great unforeseen plot twist. Meanwhile, Rarity had pushed the mugs of chocolate to the side and mounted the table, doing her best to recreate the penultimate scene of Rodeo and Jubilee. “Which is probably nonsense,” Applejack appended, seeing the look in Pinkie’s eyes. “After meetin’ Rarity, here, we got t’ talking and decided that if Twilight’s been doin’ some investigatin’, we should do somethin’ about the situation ourselves.” She nudged Rarity out of her self-pity and fake suicide. “What? Oh! Yes,” Rarity agreed, discarding her dramatic wailing and gnashing of teeth for the chance to share her thoughts, as generous as she was. She climbed off the table and back into her chair. “I know you’ll like this idea, Pinkie. The plan was to throw a party.” “A party?” “Yes, Pinkie. A party,” Rarity repeated, sedately waving her hooves at the baker. “Now, calm down and listen to the rest of the plan. With Nightmare Night only two nights away, I suggest we host a ‘Nightmare Night Eve Party’ and invite all of Ponyville. But in actual fact, it will be the ‘Find Whoever Is In Love With Fluttershy Party’ in disguise. We’ll get Fluttershy to talk to everypony there and watch to see if they act suspiciously. Then, we’ll corner the questionable colt and make him confess!” she exclaimed, slamming a ruthless hoof onto the table and causing Applejack to recoil instinctively. Leaning back and regaining her composure, she finished, “It’s inspired, if I do say so myself.” “Right,” Applejack agreed hesitantly, forcing herself to relax. “And since you’re Ponyville’s premier party pony, we wanted you t’ help set it up. The party’s gonna be t’morrow night, so we also need to find a way t’ invite everypony in town before then, and you know every pony in Ponyville. You in, Pinkie?” asked Applejack, cautiously reaching to reclaim her mug while keeping one eye on the tailor. “Okie dokie lokie! I would have just gone around asking everypony to Pinkie promise to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me Celestia, and then ask them if they liked Fluttershy, but yours is a much better idea.” Pinkie beamed out an enormous, sincere grin. “Wonderful,” Rarity proclaimed, after a brief pause spent reminding herself that it was Pinkie Pie they were dealing with. “Now, while Applejack can’t make it in the morning—” “On account of mah farm duties,” Applejack supplied with a nod. “Big Mac an’ I need to get the apples bucked t’morrow mornin’ for the apple bobbin’ game.” “I need you to meet me here tomorrow morning, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity continued. “I’ve got an idea on how we’ll manage to send the invitations out to all the ponies in town. And I assure you, it will be done with flying colors.” An artful smile danced on her mouth. Rarity took a deep but elegant drink of her lukewarm chocolate and began to explain her scheme in full. Fluttershy wore a contented smile as she ambled home, almost whinnying from the satisfying weight in her stomach resulting from the delicious lunch Spike had cooked up. Even now, she could still taste the lingering sweetness of the garden salad, and the pleasing warmth of hot lemon pie made her feel giddy. Idly, she hummed a happy refrain, thinking of how wonderful this place was. So, it was once again in her complacent state that she espied a shifting movement to her side. Turning to look, she was met with a dark silhouette merely a foot in front of her face. Her body automatically kicked into high gear and soon she was tearing down the road, leaving the shadow to slide off the boulder upon which it had been cast. It was only after Fluttershy had slammed her door shut and bolted the locks that her mind finally managed to pull in the reins. Breathing large calming breaths, she slumped down to the ground, resting her back against her bulwark to the outside. The hardwood door was little comfort to her, though. Not again, she thought miserably, letting out a sigh. However, her respite was quickly interrupted when a knock rang out on the door, the vibrations adding to her sudden, violent, alarmed trembling. “Hello?” called a young voice. “Anypony home?” “Sorry. Nopony’s home. Come back later,” Fluttershy said, almost shouting, leaving no pause between the sentences. “Alright,” the voice responded, and the visitor seemed to move away. Fluttershy heard the receding caller say, “They said nopony was home and we should come back later.” Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt that all the shocks she had had today could possibly kill her. And the next one came close. She almost hit the roof when something tapped her leg. From her perch on the ceiling lamp, as order reasserted itself over her, she realised it was Angel Bunny. The rabbit wore a disapproving grimace as he looked up at the unsettled pegasus, his tapping foot adding to his reprimanding countenance. She descended from her roost with a sheepish stoop of her head, and smiled a winsome smile at her pet. Angel was not amused and merely pointed to the kitchen. Obediently, Fluttershy went to make him a sandwich. It was only later, as she was chopping carrots and sneaking pieces of mushroom into a sandwich, that she recognized the voice outside her door as belonging to Apple Bloom, and the filly most likely had the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders with her. Fluttershy also realised it was probably a blessing that she sent them away by mistake. While she loved the three little fillies, don’t get that wrong, sometimes they could get a little out of hoof, and she wasn’t in the right mood to handle them with the kindness they deserved, or unintentionally demanded. Nor for any more surprises, which they were bound to cause. Shadow stretched himself out, a crick in his neck giving a satisfying pop as he arched it to one side. He had been sitting for an age as time crawled past, unnoticed in his attention on routine work, and his body complained about his lengthy inactivity. So he decided to take a short break. Stifling a yawn with a hoof, he proceeded to flex his muscles in a systematic manner. Hoof, forearm, bicep, shoulder. He restrained another yawn and continued, Neck, back, tail. He continued in his methodical testing of his body, enjoying the mild therapeutic pain unfolding his back caused. He nodded in satisfaction when he had finished and leaned back into his chair, inhaling deep, relaxing breaths. Everything seems fine, even though this easy life is taking its toll. Not that I mind, Shadow mused. I can never thank Compass and Derpy for all they have done for me, he thought solemnly, but an affectionate smile played on the edge of his lips. I wouldn’t be here today if he had never stumbled upon me. They accepted me, a stranger, into their homes willingly. And fought to help me survive. It had been six years since Shadow was discovered collapsed at the edge of the Everfree Forest, bruised, exhausted and under the power of an unidentifiable spell. He had been found by none other than Compass, his first and fast friend. Though he never told them, or anypony, of his past previous to Ponyville, Compass and Derpy withheld nothing in their kindness, their efforts made more amazing considering the fact that Derpy was newly pregnant with Dinky at the time. Even their first-born daughter, Amethyst Star, who was only a little filly then, shyly tried to make him feel welcome, when she wasn’t hidden behind her father’s legs. He had become accustomed to other ponies paying little attention to him. It still surprised him now that their family took him in as one of their own. Their aid and companionship was all I had to overcome this wretched curse. And all I needed.  As he returned to his work, the corners of Shadow’s mouth were turned up in a soft, content smile. A short time later, a creaking was heard from the front door. “Hello? Anyone around?” queried a voice. Ah, that sounds like Post Haste, Shadow thought. Must be back from the Canterlot Main Branch with more letters. Shadow waved as a light-brown colt walked into the back office, but the pony didn’t seem to notice. “Everyone’s out, I suppose,” said Post Haste. Rolling his eyes, Shadow coughed into his hoof as the courier walked by. Post Haste jumped in shock before finally distinguishing Shadow, who looked back with an amused smile playing on his lips. “Every time, Shadow,” the colt said, taking off his cap and fanning himself. “Every time. Would it kill you not to sneak up on a pony?” The CMC had an unfortunate habit of getting distracted rather easily. While asking around town about Fluttershy’s whereabouts, they had wound up trying to help a pharmacist deliver medicine, finding an abnormal mirror after falling down a well, attempting to learn a strange song from a pony in a windmill and collecting several bottles with which they planned to catch fairies. Eventually, after experimenting with sorting couches and calami to get their Store Keeper Cutie Marks, the crusaders found themselves at the Twilight's library. Davenport, the unfortunate owner of the “Quills And Sofas” store, had given them a tip, or yelled desperately, depending on if you were there, that Fluttershy had been seen entering Twilight Sparkle’s home earlier that day. And so, there they were, knocking on the library’s door, waiting for it to open. “Who is it, Spike?” they heard as the door swung open, revealing a small dragon. “It's Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo,” Spike yelled over his shoulder. He turned back to address the fillies.  “Hey, guys, what’s up?” “We’re looking for Fluttershy,” Scootaloo declared, giving Spike a hopeful smile. “If you want Fluttershy, she’s gone back to her cottage,” Twilight said, appearing at the door. The fillies shared an annoyed glance. “What do you girls need her for?” “We heard she was given flowers from somepony,” Sweetie Belle answered, sighing as she smiled and clasped her hooves dreamily. “Yeah, and so we’ve decided t’ become—” Apple Bloom initiated. “Cutie Mark Crusader Matchmakers!” they finished, their booming voices startling a sleeping Owlowiscious into taking wing. Spike exhaled, eyes wide in surprise. “Whoa. I can’t see this ending well,” he stated matter-of-factly, Twilight adjusted her misshapen mane and told them, “I don’t think you should visit Fluttershy today. It’s getting late, and I wouldn’t want you girls wandering anywhere near the Everfree forest after dark. You remember what happened last time, don’t you?” She put on an entreating grin, hoping to save Fluttershy a little bit of trouble, at least for that night. “Okay, Twilight,” the trio acceded, hanging their heads. Apple Bloom looked up suddenly, the light of an idea shining in her eyes. “Then, can we ask you some questions?” she asked hopefully. “Yeah, Pinkie Pie said you knew about Fluttershy’s new coltfriend,” said Scootaloo, an impish grin returning to her face. “Actually, it’s pretty complicated, girls,” Twilight admitted. “The fact is, we’re not sure who it is. All we know is that Fluttershy was given a bouquet of pink roses early in the morning while she was taking a walk, and that the card with it was signed ‘Sincerely, Shadow.’” She gave them an apologetic smile. “Honestly, we haven’t got a clue who the pony is at this point,” she concluded wearily. “Y’know any Shadows?" Apple Bloom asked her friends, repeating the same question her sister had asked earlier that day. They shook their heads in denial. Twilight’s eyes narrowed into an affectionate gaze as she smirked at their antics. “Now head home for today,” she told them firmly, letting her sterner instincts take over. “You can ask Fluttershy the details tomorrow.” “Yes, Twilight,” the trio promised despondently. Scootaloo was the first to break out of her gloom. “I guess this means tomorrow we can be Cutie Mark Crusader Detectives!” she suggested with a lively grin. The idea uplifted the spirits of her two friends and they they cried in accord, “Cutie Mark Crusader Detectives, go!” Twilight shook her head as she watched the three fillies gallop off, and then plodded back to finish her organising. I’ll do some more investigating of my own tomorrow, she thought as Spike closed the door behind them. The library had just received a delivery of books, courtesy of a grey mail-mare, and the shipment included copies of How To Lose A Colt In Ten Days, The Hoofhiker’s Guide To Equestria, Thunderclouds And How Not To Kick Them, Alicorns: A Disputably Endangered Species, and a new novel from the rare Pinkwall series, set in world full of strange fantastical “human” creatures both good and bad. She had been at hard at work cataloging the new shipment when the Crusaders had shown up. Now as she returned to the the crate of novels and textbooks, a different sort of box called to her: a small, alluring black box. Her self-control waged a losing battle and she trotted over to pick it up, her shelving postponed. I guess I can spare some time to do some more investigating today as well, Twilight thought mirthfully, flipping the box open and revealing two screens and a set of controls. She pushed a switch on the side of the box and waited as the screens lit up. Eventually, a court room appeared and the sound of a gavel being struck echoed in the library. As Twilight hunkered down on a large purple cushion near her fireplace and made herself comfortable for a lengthy bout of “investigation,” she thought once more about Fluttershy’s particularly puzzling predicament. Despite her serious attitude towards Fluttershy’s curious situation, she couldn’t stop a wry smirk from spreading across her face. This could turn out to be a pretty interesting letter to Celestia. Those thoughts were soon derailed as a dashing, black-maned, red-attired colt burst onto the screen, shouting in a smooth, cultured voice, “Objection!” Oh, Furlong Edgeworth, you are such a sophisticated colt. The front door of the post office creaked with old age as Derpy shouldered inside, her head hanging low, too tired to lift her hooves to the door. Her coat shone with a light sheen of sweat from the exertion of her mail run through Ponyville. “Welcome back,” Shadow said with a salute as she dropped her empty mail bag on her desk. The pile of unsorted mail on his own desk had been reduced to a single bag, and he was already halfway through it. Derpy returned the salute with a yawn. The day was catching up to her and she had dropped her motivational mid-route muffin somewhere over Sweet Apple Acres. Shuffling around her desk, she slumped blissfully into her chair, which turned in a slow swivel from the force of her entry. Shadow propped his head on a hoof and observed Derpy. “Why don’t you head home for today, Derpy,” he said after a bit of consideration. “We can close up. Right, Post Haste?” “Yeah, Missus H,” Post Haste agreed. “You look like you can barely keep your eyes open.” Derpy opened her mouth to refuse, but thought better of it. “Thanks, guys,” she said instead. Despite her reluctance to leave her seductive roost, Derpy gathered her strength and pushed her body out of her chair. Remembering her recently received letter, she reached for it across the desk and slipped it into a pouch on her saddle bag. She then threw the bag back over her shoulders, and after clipping the straps around her waist, she thanked them again, moving in to give Shadow and Post Haste a quick hug. “I really appreciate it. If you want, you should come over for dinner tonight. Carrot Top is over looking after the kids. So she’s probably whipped up something nice for dinner, and I’m sure there’s enough for a few more.” “Thanks for the offer, Derpy,” Shadow said, refusing her with an appreciative smile, “but I’ve got a bit of work left to do for that Nightmare Night exhibit I’m making.” “Same here, Missus H,” answered Post Haste. “I’m still not done with my costume. Have a nice night, Missus H.” “Say ‘hi’ to Dinky and Amethyst for us. And don’t forget to thank Golden Harvest,” Shadow added as an afterthought. “You take her, and her fridge, for granted sometimes.” Derpy had the grace to look abashed. Shadow sighed as she nodded accedence with a disreputable smile, and waved her off. He busied himself deciphering a difficult postcard that had impeccably beautiful horn-writing whirled across it. Unfortunately, it also looked like it was written in a different language, and he was scratching his head in puzzlement as Derpy left. Outside, Derpy flapped her wings a few times experimentally. Confident they would last the flight home, she took off with a bound. The setting sun was dipping into the horizon, painting Ponyville in washed-out orange tones. As the evening shone in her eyes, it reminded her of Compass’s nickname for her and she thought back to her treasured meeting with the spirited colt. It had been nearly fourteen years ago, Derpy just a filly turned fifteen and only new to Ponyville. Having been fired from her job at the Cloudsdale Weather Bureau for causing one too many unscheduled tornadoes, she had moved to the village for a change of pace. However, the Ponyville bureau had no vacant positions, so she was forced to find work in a different field. That day, Derpy had been in town applying for a job at the post office. Uncertain whether she had passed the interview, the mare was walking through town with an embarrassing response she had given replaying itself unmercifully in her head, causing it to hang low. “'I know how to read,'” she muttered to herself. “Way to sell yourself, you ditz.” To add insult to injury, she had also reversed her steel rump into a desk and knocked over Postmaster Penny Stamp’s inkwell, splattering his cap of rank with specks of black. The old stallion was kind enough not to be angry, but she could see the tears welling in his eyes. She was still agonizing over the memory when she bumped into something and found herself flat on her haunches. Mind reeling in addlement, her eyes had locked dizzily onto a pair of purple eyes belonging to a pink unicorn colt, a little taller and older than she. After collapsing onto his own rear from the collision, the colt looked towards the other colliding body and was swiftly entranced by Derpy’s independent eyes. He tried in wonder to follow both simultaneously, likening them to a pair of fireflies drawing slowly fading golden trails in his sight. “Sorry there, bright eyes,” the unicorn said as they broke their gaze, using the moniker at random, and the nickname deepened the blush in her cheeks initially incited by embarrassment. Derpy tried to apologize at the same time the unicorn did, rather profusely because she was used to being at fault, but her thoughts were muddled by an overheating brain. “Sorry, mistrial,” she sputtered, hiding exasperation at herself. Her little tic came up when she was acutely flustered, which was often at the least convenient of times. “Nah, nah. It was my fault,” the colt claimed in response, probably mishearing Derpy correctly as their apologies clashed. He picked himself up and then offered Derpy a helping hoof. She looked intently at the proffered limb for a few moments before realizing she should take it. Gingerly, Derpy placed her hoof in his and was promptly lifted to her feet as if she weighed less than a feather. With the momentum, and an abnormal weakness in her knees, she stumbled forwards into his chest. Hurriedly stepping back, Derpy was too abashed to speak. The disarming smile he gave didn't help the matter. In an effort to calm herself, she fixed her eyes upon a pile of rocks on the ground, which was oddly wearing a party hat. The unicorn picked up a wide-brimmed hat that had dropped next to him, pushed his wavy purple hair, streaked with a line of pink, out of his eyes, and looked around. After spotting a parchment nearby, he levitated it off the ground and towards him. “I really am sorry. I was too focused on reading this, that I wasn’t watching where I was goin’,” he explained, pointing at what was actually a map, specifically of the Canterlot region. As he dusted off his akubra, he continued with a question. “I, uh, I don’t suppose you know where I am? Like, what village is this?” “This is Ponyville, mister,” she had answered, pawing the stone road idly. “Ah, great. Thanks, miss.” Then realising himself, he exclaimed, "Oh, I haven’t introduced myself." The colt dropped into a flourishing bow, tipping the hat he had put on seconds ago, and seemed to posh up his accent. “My name is Compass. Compass Hooves. And who might you be, if I may be so bold as to ask?” The display returned a blush to her cheeks, and she managed to stammer out, “D-Derpy, mister,” still unable to look him in the face. “Come now. No need to call me ‘mister.’ Or is Compass too strange a name in these parts?” She refuted him hastily. “No, Compass,” Derpy said, promptly looking up and once again meeting his amethyst-like eyes, which peered back inquisitively with a glint of playfulness. Just as quickly, she returned her gaze to the ground, her blush steadily growing a darker red. The heat in her head was making her feel dizzy again. “That’s better.” Derpy was sure that the colt had a sly grin on his face, even though she had her eyes glued to the ground. “Now, please allow me to treat you to lunch for ruining your day with my abrupt intrusion.” She was swept up by his invitation before she knew what happened, her weak refusals steamrolled by his ardent insistence. She found herself being served by a genteel waiter at a table in a fancy Prench cafe. Resigning herself, she let Compass order for her as she couldn't understand the meaning behind any of the ostentatious dish names, and used the respite to curb her nervousness. Soon, Compass had made their choices and the waiter returned to the kitchen. “So, Miss Derpy. Please tell me about yourself.” Compass’s accent had returned to its initial semi-informal nature, a mix between a Canterlot and a Southern dialect, but with an audibly laid-back and slightly gravelly feel to it. The pegasus had never heard anypony speak like it before. With a tentative hold on her self control, Derpy replied, "Not much to tell. Just your average pegasus, really. I don't know what you might want to know." "How about you start with your cutie mark?" The question almost put her off balance. She expected him to ask about her eyes, as many other ponies had done when given the chance. Still, it wasn’t a much better topic. "Oh, this old thing? Yeah, a lot of ponies can't really tell what it means by looking at it," she diverged with a wry smile. "My special talent is having a large lung capacity. Now while it doesn't seem much of a talent, I'm still very proud of it, and it does come in handy sometimes. For example, I can stay up longer than the average pony during high atmosphere flying, and it's really great for when I go swimming. And for blowing bubbles, hence the bubbles of my mark." She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, expecting some kind of smug amusement. But she found none of the usual signs of it on Compass's face. In fact, he retained the appearance of the sincerely interested, and she was a little unsettled by his unwavering attention. “Hey, now that I've told you mine, it's only fair you tell me yours,” she insisted, trying to hide her fluster. “Sure thing, Miss Derpy. My talent is adventuring, as indicated by the map and compasses on my cutie mark,” he said, indicating to his flank. The depiction displayed an example of both types of compass instruments strewn over a map of the world. “I've an innate sense of direction, preventin’ me from ever being lost, and merely just not knowing where I am.” “And adventurin’ is what I do. I left home at a tender age of eleven, and I’ve been travellin’ ever since. Seen half the world during those six years, but every day still brings a new surprise. Why, just a while ago, I unexpectedly stumbled upon a marvellous treasure." “Oh? Can I see it?” Derpy asked, intrigue showing in her eyes. “All you need do is look in a mirror,” he replied with a grin. Once again, she couldn't tell whether she was being made fun of or not. She was becoming accustomed to handling the sudden compliments, however, and managed to dispel the flutter in her stomach with a cough. Continuing, Compass spun tales of his journeys through strange lands full of pandas, forgotten cities laden with treasure and danger, and beautiful savannas populated by equally majestic wildlife. In return, Derpy grudgingly divulged her own stories of meteorological mishaps at the weather bureau, leading up to her forced resignation, and tidbits of her childhood. Before they knew it, the day had already turned to dusk. Noticing the lateness, Compass offered to accompany her home, and she happily agreed. “Thanks for walking me home,” Derpy said as they reached her house. “No, thank you for your company. It was a pleasure having lunch with you.” Compass paused for a short moment before asking, “Would you be free sometime tomorrow? I was hoping you could show me around the village, seeing as you live here.” “Sure,” she answered. “But I haven’t been living here very long, so we might just end up wandering aimlessly.” She saw her mailbox had a letter inside, and opened the box to retrieve it. “I’m fine with that. So long as you’re there.” “You are quite the flirt, you know that?” she said, shaking her head. “Only on special occasions,” he replied with a shrug. “So, tomorrow then?” Smiling, she concurred. “Tomorrow it is.” Derpy tore the letter in her hoof open as Compass turned to head off. He had only taken a few steps before a high-pitched squealing caught his attention. He turned back and saw Derpy galloping towards him. “I got the job!” she shouted at him, unable to contain herself as she ran over. “I start at the beginning of next week.” "At the post office?” he asked, to which she nodded. “Congratulations, I'm sure you'll do great." In her exultation, Derpy impulsively hugged Compass. Realising herself a second later, she awkwardly unwrapped herself from him. "Eh, heh. Sorry," she said, giving him a sheepish smile. "Don’t worry about it," he said, shaking the apology off. Then, with a scampish grin, he added. "In fact, I wouldn't mind if you were to do it again. Ah, but we can save that for later. G’night, Derpy,” he said, tipping his hat to her as a farewell. “See you tomorrow."                                                                                                                                 For the following several days, Compass lodged at Ponyville’s premier resting house, the  Vetinari Inn, which overlooked the village marketplace. He had planned to stay the week in order to watch an upcoming centennial meteor shower, the main reason for his visit to Ponyville; the clean country air provided a famous clear view for Lunarial events. But he was not the type of pony to sit idly. Every day of his sojourn, he managed to rope Derpy into participating in some haphazard activity invariably full of confusion, laughter and delight. Despite her living in Ponyville for a brief time, Compass showed her sights that she would have never discovered herself, his traveller’s intuition leading him to find beautiful, quiet meadows and shops filled with nothing but quills and sofas or thousands of clocks of all sizes. One day, it had led them to a cottage on a small carrot farm, in which a mare named Golden Harvest had been baking carrot muffins, sparking what would become Derpy's closest friendship. The orange-hued mare sometimes joked when Derpy brought it up that it was between the pegasus and her fridge. On the final day of his planned stay, Compass had shown up unexpectedly at her house, dressed smartly in formal attire consisting of a white tuxedo and bow tie. She had been baking in the kitchen, trying her latest in a string of experimental recipes, when she heard him rapping on her door. Wondering who it was, she took off her apron and went to open the door. Ignoring her ash-smudged face, Compass greeted her with his usual display of flair, but his unsteady smile spoke an uncharacteristic wavering of confidence. “Good evening, Madame Derpy. Perchance might I have the honour of accompanying you during tonight’s stargazing gathering on Moonwatch Hill?” He bowed low but his eyes turned up hopefully. She stood stunned. Compass looked so handsome that she zoned out for a while. After several minutes of receiving a wide-eyed stare, Compass’s nose caught the scent of a faint wisp of smoke. He peeked over Derpy’s shoulder and into the house. “Derpy, were you in the middle of cooking something?” he asked. His question brought her right out of her stupor, causing her to cry out. “Muffins!” she exclaimed. She rushed through her house and swiftly pulled out the tray of burnt muffins with her mouth. "Hod! Hod! Hod!" she yowled, as the heat shot up through her teeth. “Careful, Derpy! Don’t burn yourself,” Compass said, quickly taking the tray from her and depositing it on the benchtop. Unfortunately, they were unsalvageable. “Shame about the muffins. But don’t worry. I’ve cooked up somethin’ for this evenin’,” Compass announced, then remembered he hadn’t received a response to the invitation. He finished meekly, “That is, if you do agree to join me.” The question had once again caught her unprepared. Jumbled-up thoughts raced through her head, and she wondered not for the first time why this stallion would choose to spend time in her company. “Y-yes,” she blurted out, panicking inside with nervousness. “Please let me jail you.” “Great,” Compass replied, letting out a breath he had been holding in unconsciously, and lapsed into silence. For once, the colt seemed lost for words. But the state didn’t last very long, for soon he revealed, “I have a picnic rug set up over at the hill, and a basket filled with your favourite dish, courtesy of Miss Harvest.” But even the allure of carrot muffins couldn’t break her out of her shock at accepting the invitation, so completely overwhelmed was she by her circumstances. Seeing this, Compass smiled and closed the oven, cleaned the kitchen, and her cheeks, and then whisked her out of the house. Pausing only to close the door behind them, he led her off to their destination. The cold bite of the approaching winter nibbled on Derpy’s flank, causing her to shiver mildly. Noticing her discomfort, Compass moved nearer in an endeavour to share his warmth. In a short time, they were ambling close together, and without thinking, Derpy had leaned gently onto his shoulder, instinctively seeking heat. Compass tried not to draw attention to their contact, though he couldn’t help but watch her from the corner of his eye. Never had a mare evoked such strong feelings in him as the one right next to him. Whispering resolvedly under his breath, he said, “Soon, you’ll see how much you mean to me.” Side by side, they continued this way until they reached Moonwatch Hill. After finding their picnic rug amongst the other celebrators, they sat on the down and enjoyed a nice, cordial dinner while Compass shared his Horsetrailian background. Derpy marvelled at the apparently deadly nature of the island-country off the east coast of Equestria. “How could anypony live there?” she wondered out loud, as she polished off her third carrot cake dessert, and the stallion laughed. “Well, there’s no greater teacher than death,” he told her with a grin full of audacity, “and our boys are the smartest around. Girls, too.” He was then distracted as a point of light burst on the horizon. “Look, it’s starting.” Compass moved closer to point out the first few meteors that blazed across the night sky. Engrossed in watching the spectacle, Derpy unconsciously reclined against him. In the next few minutes, the stallion sat frozen still so as not to startle the soft, warm weight resting against him. Faintly aware of small sporadic twitches beside her, Derpy turned to look at Compass, who had been stealing a few fleeting glances towards her, and, suddenly, their eyes met. But instead of breaking the contact between them, she held their connection. She felt as if she were falling into the pools of his eyes. But that was okay. She knew he would catch her. Eventually, Compass broke the silence. “Hey there, bright eyes,” he said softly with a tender smile, deepening the flush on Derpy’s face that was growing by the second. His eyes flickered uncertainly for a second, but he reached a decision briskly. “I'll be leaving tomorrow, but this time I've spent with you has been magical. You're an amazin’ mare and I hope you won't mind seeing this rogue's face some time again in the future?” "Of course not. You're welcome anytime," she told him with pleasure. Although Derpy was embarrassed by the compliments, she was unwilling to break their gaze. However, a question intruded upon her happiness. She tried to ignore it, but another part cried for it to be answered. "Why me?" she asked. As soon as the question was out of her mouth, fear washed over her and she recoiled back, covering her mouth with her hooves. She wanted to act like she had never said it, to pretend that it never happened. But she needed to know. Gathering her courage, she let her arms fall. "I'm nothing special. Why are you so good to me?" The sincere question shone in her pleading eyes. Compass must have realised that Derpy was battling her lack of self assurance, as he moved to close the space between them once again and, with a hoof, lifted her face so that she looked directly at his. "Don't say that. You are special," he assured her, caressing her cheek gently. "But that's not why I'm captivated by you. I'm an adventurer by schooling and experience. But above all, I'm adventurer by instinct, and I trust my adventurer's instincts to navigate through winding paths, to find good campin’ grounds, to avoid danger, and to keep me safe. What I felt the first moment I met you was if as if my whole soul were sayin’, 'That. That right there. That is the right direction. You should go that way.' And I just know my instincts were right. You, Derpy, are my safe harbours that I know I will find peace in, the home for which I will yearn for." He paused for a second, and his eyes burrowed into hers. His lips were creased into a line and his eyebrows declined as he gave serious consideration to a thought that would be left unsaid. "I want you to have this," he said instead, pulling out a round, golden object dangling on a linked chain. It looked like a pocket watch, but when he opened it, the pegasus saw on its face letters instead of numbers. "It's my first compass, given to me by my father when I first stepped out the door on my travels,” Compass explained. “It means a lot to me, and I hope you'll cherish it, too. Bein’ a mail pony is no easy job, and you might be asked to travel to distant places you've never been before. I would like it if you'd kept this with you, so a part of me can always protect you and bring you safely home." Closing the lid, he slowly offered it to Derpy, showing care in handling the item precious to him. Her eyes grew wide and one eye focused intensely on his, the other fixed on the beautiful, gilded ornament. To her, the world stopped for a second, as if it had suddenly run into a mailbox. “Thank you, Compass,” she managed to breathe out after the moment, kindling a warm smile that spread across Compass’s face. "I'll keep it with me always." As she accepted the gift, she leaned into him, and their silhouettes merged as the forgotten meteor shower lit the sky.                                                                                                                                                  And the next time Compass visited, to Derpy’s joy, he stayed for a much longer time. “Mommy!” clamoured Dinky, who rushed over to give her mother a big cuddle. Her older sister trotted over at a more sedate pace, attempting to mask the same breadth of happiness she felt about her mother’s early return. “Welcome back, mother,” Amethyst Star said, giving Derpy a small nuzzle. “Hello, you two. I hope you’ve been behaving for Carrot Top. Have you had dinosaurs yet?” Derpy stumbled over her speech as the smell of freshly-baked muffins overwhelmed her. Dinky giggled at her mother’s typical reaction. “No, mommy, we were just about to.” “The table is set, mother. Let’s go eat,” suggested Amethyst Star. Tightly escorted between her two daughters, her wings enfolding them in an affectionate hug, Derpy made her way to the dining room, where Carrot Top sat at the table with an agricultural newspaper in front of her. She was watching patiently for their return, her head propped up by a hoof, and gave Derpy a friendly smile and wave as they entered. “Hey, Derpy. How was your day?” Carrot Top asked, pushing back a chair next to her and indicating for the pegasus to take a seat. “It was ginger,” Derpy replied, anxiously dropping her bag and taking the offered chair. Dinky and Amethyst Star sat down opposite her. One eye hovered over the tray of muffins on the table, the other politely giving Carrot Top some attention. “Thanks for looking after the kids,” Derpy said, trying not to drool while she showed her friend some appreciation. “No problem at all,” Carrot Top replied, chuckling a little at her friend’s sincere attempts at gratitude. “They were angels, as usual. Makes me want a filly of my own,” she told Derpy, feigning a wistful, faraway stare. The effect was soon broken with a snort and a smirk. “Now go ahead and eat up. I bet you’re famished, as usual.” Derpy didn’t need a second invitation. Shadow made it home after his long day at the post office. Mail was flying in faster than usual, due to the Nightmare Night rush, and there were still several untouched mail-bags’ worth of unsorted letters, courtesy of Post Haste’s trip to the city. Despite its only being the evening, the day had already turned dark. Celestia set the sun earlier each day during this time of the year, and Luna had already raised the moon a span above the horizon.  In the gloom, he pushed opened the door to his little home by the Quills and Sofas store, wondering why the neighbouring shop looked like parasprites had gone through it again. Locking the door quietly behind him, he picked his way through the familiar darkness and ignited an oil lamp in a room further back. It revealed a small workshop, filled with various hoof-tools and craft materials. With the Nightmare Night rush hitting harder than usual, he had fallen behind on his project for the actual Nightmare Night Festival. As he fell into a rhythm with his incisions, he indulged his thoughts on that morning's near meeting with the catalyst of his moonstruck mannerisms, the flawless filly, Fluttershy. He envisioned how soft her fur looked, made further still by the gentle rays of the dawning sun. He fantasised how sweet she smelled, sweeter than the flowers vainly competing against her beauty. He imagined hearing her talk, catching the marvellous dulcet tones of her meek but benevolent voice as she expressed thanks to his unexpected rival — how dare he take the credit. Ah, but she looked so happy to receive the token. If only he could have been the recipient of her appreciation. Although, he felt like some small detail was slipping his mind. Mechanically, his hooves embroidered locks of hair, fashioned a frilly lace dress and carved out a glittering tiara, and, before long, his task was complete. Returning his focus to his work, he inspected the sheets that had been reduced to the form of a slender pony in an intricate flowing gown, joined by thin threaded strings. He held it up to the light in the night, and, with grin and a certain amount of professional pride, found the moon lacking in brilliance. Fluttershy lay awake in her bed, tossing and turning. Though Angel slept peacefully in his cot, his normally irritated face the picture of his name, Fluttershy couldn't find the solace of slumber. Despite the cold, she had thrown her covers back in agitation caused by her thoughts, which gave her no quiet as they bounced, cried, argued and apologized inside her head. Her mind replayed her afternoon encounter with her shadow over and over again, each time deeply regretting her actions. Ever since this morning, she had been hoping for another chance to speak to it, but its ominous figure had once again intimidated her, and she had run off without being able to utter a word. Well, besides, “Eep.” Fluttershy had dreamed about making friends with her shadow for a long time. It had been around since before she could remember. She was often scared by it, as it took wild and unnerving shapes. But other times, its form was simply that of a pony, just like her. And while it often hung around crowds, nopony ever talked to it, and most usually ignored it. Fluttershy knew how cruel loneliness could be, and the kindness in her drove her towards it. However, every time she tried to talk to it, its eerily shifting figure made her lose her nerve. In fact, just the sight of it was usually enough to make her run for the hills, just as she had that afternoon. She let out a forlorn sigh. A whimper downstairs broke into her reflections. She rolled out of bed and shuffled her way downstairs to check up on her charges. Her mind filling with purpose, partly in an attempt to dislodge her anxieties, she trotted over to the source of the whimpers, staying light on her hooves to minimise the sound of her movement. “There, there,” she soothed, adjusting the animal’s cast-up leg. “Just try to get some rest and you’ll be all better soon, Yogi.” The bear had knocked on the door that afternoon while she had been making Angel a carrot sandwich. Covered in numerous grazes and bruises, it had fallen flat on its face into her home as soon as she had opened the door. She had quickly, and perhaps a bit overzealously, dressed it up until it was more bandage than bear. Now, it lay stiffly in a cot barely big enough to hold it, and whimpered acquiescence. Fluttershy gave the bear a gentle pat and nuzzled it under its head, humming softly, “Hush now, quiet now,” until the bear drifted off to sleep. Afterwards, she moved to review her other patients. An owl with a sprained neck, a raccoon with a chipped claw, a butterfly with a bent antenna — all now wrapped in peaceful slumber, their injuries patched up without much fuss. Now that her mind was satisfied that her patients were getting their rest, her unpleasant thoughts finally intruded again. Emotional wounds were much harder to deal with, often hurting far deeper, and it was the guilt that she might have caused some that riddled her kind nature. She was no stranger to this type of pain, as she regularly battled feelings of inadequacy and had doubts over her worthiness to be marked the Element of Kindness. She remembered her first meeting with Twilight Sparkle, and winced at how callous she had acted with the newly arrived mare. Though time had healed this wound, she still had little idea on how to heal a potential psychological scar. What if I’ve lost the only chance to befriend my shadow? she wondered worriedly. What if she hates me now? How can I get her to like me? Do I only care about getting ponies to like me? Am I just a selfish foal that solely craves praise? What if I’ve been blinded by that? What if I’ve hurt her, and now I can’t do anything to make up for it? What if I try, and it only makes it worse? After what seemed like hours of being mentally wracked by her fears and failures, Fluttershy had had enough. It was a flash of white, pink, blue, orange and purple that broke their grip, and Twilight’s words from that morning ardently repeated themselves. I am the Element of Kindness, and I didn’t get it by being half-flanked about it. And if I’m not strong enough, my friends will be there for me, she thought with vehemence, feelings of pride for her friends overwriting those of her own weakness. I just have to give it my best. That’s all I could ask of myself, and all they would ask of me. Steeling herself, Fluttershy moved in front of a mirror on a wall. The reflective glass was trimmed with a simple affair of faded gold paint and large enough to view the entirety of a pony. She normally used the mirror to give her an extra angle when treating animals, but tonight she’d use it to give her an extra angle on herself. Standing straight in front of it, she closed her eyes and evened her breath, composing herself and subduing her thoughts as best she could. When she opened her eyes, she found herself exposed her own intent, scrutinizing Stare. “I will be more polite to my shadow. I will not fear her irrationally and I will not run away. I will try my best to become friends — Real, sincere friends,” she murmured, glaring at herself. The words seemed to flow out of a deep, innermost part of herself. But these were promises she had made to herself before, and she felt strongly that she needed something more practical. So, with an afterthought, her subconscious added, “And I will invite her to tea tomorrow.” Though a large part of her balked at her sudden demand, it was quelled by her hard gaze. She nodded in submission to herself. Satisfied with her resolution, Fluttershy broke eye contact with the mirror and moved back to the stairwell to find Angel tapping a foot on the bottom step in disapproval. Arms crossed, his look said that she should get her sleep and that she really should know better than to overexert herself. Fluttershy sheepishly trotted up the stairs, eyed by an unamused Angel. After Fluttershy had moved out of view, Angel swept his perceptive gaze over the makeshift hospital. All the animals dozed comfortably and quietly, even the beaver that usually snored like a chainsaw. Tonight, the beaver slept like a log, courtesy of Angel’s clipping a clothespin over its nose. Finding the scene to his approval, he gave a satisfied nod and hopped up after the filly, intent on making sure she was tucked in tightly and then returning to his own carrot patch of dreams. “Fetlock, remind me why we’re hiding in the kitchen of a bakery.” Fetlock sighed at his recalcitrant partner. “Because I found that pink mare to be far more suspicious than anything I’ve ever seen,” he whispered back. “Judging by the way she intimidated that grey stallion we were following with just a look, she must be a lot higher up on the ladder. The glint in her eyes, the grin on her face, the gait of her... bounce. They all scream, Watson! I’m just not quite sure what they’re screaming.” “Well, that’s new. Who would have believed that the great Fetlock Holmes might not be sure about something?” “Laugh it up, Watson, but we’ll soon be witness to whatever devious schemes are occurring under the ruse of a simple cupcakes confectionery.” “How did you know that I was going to throw a Pre-Nightmare Night party?” whispered a soprano voice in astonishment from behind them. Watson and Fetlock yelled in surprise at their unnoticed companion and, tangled in their haste to exit, tumbled heavily out of the pantry. “Pinkie?” Mrs. Cake’s voice drifted down into the kitchen. “What was that? Is everything alright, dear?” “Yes, Mrs. Cake," Pinkie answered without hesitation. "Just some visitors who know about my party tomorrow.” “Okay, dear,” Mrs. Cake replied, deciding to chalk it up to Pinkie’s usual antics and go back to sleep. “Just don’t stay up too late.” Watson and Fetlock looked up from their pile on the floor. Pinkie smiled back openly. After a minute of hesitant silence, Fetlock cleared his throat and spoke up. “I suppose you’re wondering what we are doing here?” “Nope,” Pinkie replied with complete frankness, but continued invitingly, “but you can tell me if you want.” Fetlock had never been this far lost for words. He felt as if he would need a map to figure out how he got into his situation. Thankfully, Watson came to his rescue. Or at least tried to. “Um,” Watson said dumbly, finding that his metaphorical rescue copter was leaking gas. “Yeah, I got nothing, Fetlock.” “Fetlock?” Pinkie exclaimed, her voice loud with excitement. “As in Fetlock Holmes? I’ve read all about you!” She bounced up and down wildly, her grin becoming a gigantic pearly chasm. “Watson, I’m beginning to think that, impossible as it might be to believe, I might have been wrong.” A single wavering pinprick of light shone through a window in the uppermost chamber of Canterlot’s royal castle, late in the night. Under the flickering of burning candlelight, Princess Celestia sat at a pearwood desk, intently drafting a letter in response to a report that lay discarded on the corner of the desk. The report disclosed the compromising of a field, or as it happened, branch, agent. The response read: Agents Chip and Dale, Abandon your task. Do not risk leading the trail back to me. I will find other uses for you. For now, relay all the entries you have transcribed since our last communication and await further orders. Signed, C. Rolling up the parchment, the princess incinerated it in a flash of magic. However, the burnt remains flared green with arcane power and whisked purposefully out the window, the cloud of ashes floating off into the night towards whatever destination awaited it. Celestia shifted on her plush cotton cushion and turned towards a shelf laden with various textbooks and governmental forms. A seemingly random scroll, from the midst of a large stack of them teetering upon the shelf, left its perch in a glow of yellow and hovered towards the princess until it was held in front of her. Making herself comfortable, she read the scribbled note with an amused smirk. The 27th of the month of Ceilidh, Year 1001 Anno Luna. Dear Diary, I KNOW YOU SQUIRRELS HAVE BEEN READING THIS, AND IF YOU DON'T STOP, I SHALL BE VERY ANGRY. On another note, Pinkie Pie has once again been exhibiting random bouts of Pinkie Sense twitching. It seems a “doozy” is about to happen one of these days, and since it’s new, she doesn't know what exactly to expect. She's been bouncing around the library for about half an hour most days. Well, more violently than usual. Interestingly, it usually occurs around the same time each day. Pinkie thinks it has something to do with Fluttershy, and it correlates with the times Fluttershy has her regular spa meets with Rarity. I'll conduct some more research, but for now, I haven't got a clue about what it could mean. AND JUST IN CASE ANYPONY WHO SHOULDN'T BE READING THIS IS READING THIS, STOP HERE OR FACE MY WRATH! Lately, I've been getting a weird, uncomfortable feeling every time I see Caramel. And sometimes I catch him looking at me from the corner of my eye. But when I turn to face him, he averts his gaze. I find this very suspicious. More on this as I find out what's going on. Lastly, I finished my next chapter of "The Magical Adventures of Young Starswirl the Newly Bearded". I think it really pushes the envelope for action while still remaining scientifically faithful and educational. I'm rather proud of the scene where Starswirl uses a pony-sized monument compass to determine the geometrical result of launching a statue of Princess Celestia over a castle wall, with him on it, while using said compass to fight off a horde of attacking Germane Nazi Ponies. You might say, they did Nazi that coming, hahah. Ahem. Well, that's it for now. Hopefully, I can find a way to keep you safe. Bye until next time. -Twilight Sparkle. Suppressing her laughter to a chuckle, a shaky hoof covering her mouth, Celestia was glad she had more free time on her hooves. Now that Luna was back to take her duties in raising the moon and because she herself lowered the sun earlier in the coming season, Celestia could relax a little and have some fun. The alicorn yawned and put down the scroll. Even though she technically didn’t need sleep, Princess Celestia loved the idea of catching up on a thousand years of late nights. She happily headed off to her large, luxurious bed, thinking of the scolding she had given Luna for not enjoying her own rest time. Sprawling expansively under the cool silk covers, it was only moments before Celestia fell asleep, dreaming whatever it is a benevolent tyrant alicorn dreams, a mischievous grin plastered on her face to last until morning. End of Chapter Two. Next Chapter. Happiness Over One’s Shadow - Part One.