Raucous cheers filled the atmosphere as hooves crashed down onto the table, as they’d done many times before. The strongstallion had bested another competitor foolish enough to challenge his mighty arm, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.
‘Someone buy him another round!’
Eventually a glass made its way between the clumsy bodies, drops of beer lining its exterior. The champion finished in two quaffs, roared, and yelled ‘Who’s next?’ He didn’t have any competitors, he’d already beaten twenty. There was an unfamiliar face among the regulars. Ponyville didn’t have many and its sole bar saw even fewer, so it was with some vague embarrassment Twilight drunk her apple cider. Then again, she mused that it’d be much worse if they did recognise her.
‘Gosh it’s different.’
‘The bar or the drink?’
Discord, her faithful companion was shrunk to less than three-quarters his normal size allowing him to hide under her robe when he felt like it. He’d hardly be able to get into the bar otherwise. Conveniently, both her wings and the mark on her flank were covered beneath the garment, allowing her to ruse as a unicorn. Naturally, concealing a set of wings was infinitely easier than a horn, short of cutting off, which would kill her anyway.
‘Hey, I know you!’
One of the bar-goers had taken it upon himself to sit opposite Twilight, looking at her with obvious suspicion.
‘Yeah, you’re that one mare, from that one magazine...’
‘Go home, you’re drunk.’
Twilight hadn’t got any better at lying, but she had learned a few tricks from Luna in more ways than she knew.
‘Am I?’
She nodded.
‘So what’s that?’ He asked, pointing to the weird floating-thing by her shoulder.
‘Him? He’s my... Party Dragon. Yes, my Party Dragon!’
The stallion was very confused. Twilight placed her hoof on his chest.
‘You should really go home if you’re seeing things like that, dear.’
Convinced, the stallion nodded slowly, before stumbling to the exit.
‘What have you called me now? A party dragon, a senior assistant, a harmless exotic species of serpent, ferocious alligator, tax collector and jovial madman?’
‘You forgot Discord.’
He huffed and puffed several clouds of smoke before he said, ‘You don’t call me that.’
The odd pair spent the night in the same inn, using her increasingly meager supply of bits. But of course, she’d calculated her expenses to the last penny and was in a comfortable position as a result. Twilight had gone so far as to refuse Discord’s numerous offers to produce an endless supply, saying it’d devalue the currency, and so on. Discord thought the Equestrian Economic Council must have really drilled it into her.
There was nothing left of the house Twilight had once lived in but a hollow stump, telling tales of the mare it’d housed. Fluttershy’s was much the same, if a little greener. Like most cloud-houses, Rainbow Dash's had naturally dispersed into the wind, surely used to build a storm, sometime, somewhere. Applejack’s farm was longer a family business, though well maintained nonetheless. The majority of the apples produced were used for cider; with the eventual acceptance of a more automated system, sales soared. But the apples themselves were vintage hoof-bucked, always hoof-bucked. Sugercube corner had been transformed into a small casino of sorts, which had once been in popular demand. Discord would say, ‘Everything was once in popular demand.’ The Carousel Boutique was long gone, much like Rarity's vanity. She’d hadn’t made it more than a petite business, but perhaps she feared that if it were any larger than one store, she’d be pulled away from her closest friends.
Twilight stepped in a puddle, and was slammed to the ground by a yellow pegasus who didn’t look both ways. There were profuse apologies all round, and awkward looks a few seconds afterwards.
‘You’re a... alicorn.’
Twilight eyeballed her briefly exposed wings as though they were incredibly offending objects. Apparently the collision had caused the material to fold over itself in an inconvenient manner.
‘Twilight, is that you? Twilight Sparkle?’
The alicorn failed to form a coherent sentence.
‘It is, isn’t it? Oh my gosh! My grandma told me stories about you before you were... y’know. Pardon me for being so rude, I’m Springleaf; I’m ecstatic to meet you! You were the element of magic, if I remember. Am I right, or am I right?’
Twilight was dumbfounded that the recognition came from her as a unicorn, not as ruler.
‘Hey, er, Twi, are you okay? Do you mind if I call you that? I think it’s a good nickname.’
She found there to be a casual similarity between Springleaf and Pinkie, she hadn’t met somepony as bubbly and gregarious for years upon years upon years; Twilight hadn’t said a word.
‘I’m okay, Springleaf, I’m just surprised, that’s all. You seem like a perfectly nice pony though.’
‘Aww, thanks! You didn’t think I’d judge you did you? That’d be so silly of me! You’ve already saved us all and besides, who’d want to stay in that big ol Canterlot castle anyway? It looks super boring.’
Twilight was well aware she was having words shoved into her mouth, but they had a veracity to them that she’d never speak of herself anymore. Having somepony else speak them for her was a great weight off her back, reminiscent of the days where she hadn’t yet carried any element at all.
‘Your honesty is admirable; few ponies would have the courage to say such things to me.’
Twilight cringed at her formality.
‘It’s not honesty silly, it's instinct! Its best not to overthink things, sometimes, Twi. Anyway, I was going somewhere before I crashed into you, gotta go bye!’
‘Er, bye!’ Twilight said as Springleaf launched over an apartment block.
The “Party Dragon” commented from under her coat on Springleaf being an interesting mare and chided Twilight for not asking who the grandpa was.
There was one more significant event in Twilight’s adventure, when she went to see Spike. He was middle-aged for a dragon now, and relatively slim. At first they greeted ambivalently, wary how their separation might have estranged them. Because they knew little about the other’s position, it was fairly easy to get a dialogue going. Small talk like ‘How was it ruling?’ and ‘How was the dragon migration?’ spiraled into more questions answered. Twilight let him know how immensely proud of her little scribe she was and Spike let her know he was proud of her too. Discord was sensitive enough to wait until the two had broken the ice before revealing himself, but Spike was still shocked to see him. He was unconvinced that the ‘mercurial animal’ would maintain his sanity (if he ever had any) for much longer. Discord stopped Twilight from retorting. Spike had fathered three children and given two of them to ponies. The third, Alexandra, was left to a protective mother-dragon. He explained he never felt he was the parental, loving type, not that it would have been conventional for the father to play any part in the raising of his children. She cast spell number twenty five in affection.