//------------------------------// // 6 - Of Aviation and Aggrevation // Story: A King's Return // by Maulkin //------------------------------// We all crowded around the lone computer in the back office. “Alright,” I said, turning to the other two as I waited for it to boot up, “we're going to watch the very last episode of the series, so you're going to need a little background.” I started explaining Discord's history, from his first and second defeats to his 'redemption' in the third season, and left out the few roles he had in the next few seasons. My brother and the pastor nodded patiently, indulging my admittedly bumbling explanation as I slowly pecked at the keyboard. It was slow-going – my usually nimble fingers were reduced to short, barely functioning stubs, and I couldn't type like I had before. At least I had magic to compensate – it couldn't be that hard to type by magic, right? I focused on the keys and tried to 'feel' where my old muscle-memory knew the right keys were. It wasn't the same, but there were similarities – the sense I got from it was that I was 'touching' it all at once with massive, blob-like hands that weren't actually attached to me, but still relayed sensory information. Needless to say, it was an odd experience. Still, I could 'feel' the keys, and started to type. Unfortunately, and I was learning this lesson very well, magic simply does not act like a pair of hands; I would try to press one key and I'd end up pressing several at once, or else push the wrong one completely. At one point I had to ease back on the magic, my frustration having fueled the pressure and made the keyboard creak with the strain. I finally stopped the failing experiment and went back to pecking at the pony-unfriendly interface with my wooden hands, grumbling about poorly designed hardware. Hasbro had cracked down on Youtube – again – and had deleted most of the videos, but I eventually found a good enough quality version of the episode hidden under a clever name. I hit play and started streaming, pushing my chair out of the way so the other two could watch. I'll be honest... I didn't like the last episode. It went against the tone of the entire series and it didn't tie up any of the loose ends – indeed, it just created MORE unresolved plotlines. What happened to the Mane Six after Discord cast his mysterious spell? What did that spell even do? What about Celestia and Luna? Did everyone just die? Shoot, it would have been a better ending if they just killed everyone, at least that would have made sense and closed the story. And the very last scene didn't even fit in; why did they bring Sombra back just to have him be put under the same mysterious spell? It was as if the writing team thought, “Hey, you know what the fans want to see closure on? Sombra! No, no, forget the Mane 6, Sombra's what the fans want!”. At least, that's what they thought until their presumably drug-fueled madness came to an end, while their collective hangovers made completing the disparate scraps too much to bother with. And so, they submitted the eclectic – nay, schizophrenic – abomination to the animators, who were fed up with the nonsense and just went with it. That's my pet theory, anyway – and if it doesn't make sense, well, neither does the episode. I shook my head – no matter how poorly written the episode was, Luke and the pastor had to see it if we were to all be on the same page. I skipped the intro before it could start, not wanting to subject the others to it. I liked it myself, but it really was an acquired taste. We watched the episode in silence; I was too embarrassed to say anything, while the others probably found it too strange to interrupt. I cringed, anticipating their confusion at the final scene, and considered stopping it just shy of the non-sequitur about Sombra, but something unexpected happened. They cut straight to the thankfully silent credits without showing the final scene; they skipped right past it without any explanation. “Huh? What gives?” I asked the computer, dragging the time pointer back a few seconds to see if the show glitched. But, no – it just replayed the scene where Twilight was cursed, and again with right to the credits. “That was odd, why didn't it end with Sombra in his cave, like it should have... Ah well, it was a pointless scene anyway,” I said, shrugging it off and swiveling in the chair, “the episode was better without it. Not that it was very good, mind...” I looked up at the other two, trying to gauge their reactions. The pastor seemed mildly confused, his brow furrowed as he tried to order his thoughts. Not surprising – that episode hadn't made much sense to the fandom, much less a non-brony. My brother, however... He was staring at the computer screen, expressionless. Catatonic, even. I frowned and stopped fidgeting, my head cocked as I watched him. I knew the episode was bad, but was it that bad? I waved a hand – well, a hoof, it was more of a hoof at that point – in front of his face, but he didn't respond. “You okay?” I asked gruffly. Still no response. “Luke, stop being stupid.” I eyed him, waiting for him to laugh and reveal some sort of obscure joke, but still he continued to stare with disturbingly vacant eyes, mind a thousand miles away... And just like that he came back to himself. One moment he was dead to the world, unresponsive to anything we said, and the next moment he looked around mildly as if nothing was wrong. “Huh, that was unexpected.” I started to agree with him, but before I could asked why he chose that moment to impersonate a vegetable he continued. “Why was Soarin in that episode? He didn't seem to have anything to do with the plot. Not that the plot made much sense, anyway.” “Hang on, what?” I asked, even more confused and clinging to the dwindling hope that he would deliver the punchline. When none was forthcoming, however, I slowly and carefully said,“Soarin wasn't in that episode...” He frowned. “Yeah he was,” he said indignantly, “I saw him right there at the very end. It was right before the credits. You must have seen it,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Soarin was flying from Discord, Discord was toying with him...” He paused and shuddered. “Yeah, that was way too intense for a children's show. I don't know how they got on the air.” “Luke,” the pastor spoke up, giving him a measured look, “what on earth are you talking about? The show ended with that purple horse with the wings and horn-” “Twilight,” I interjected, unable to stop myself. He waved me off. “Twilight, fine – it ended with her being attacked by that dragon with antlers – Discord, was that his name? Yes, anyway, Discord attacked Twilight, and then it went to credits,” he looked over Luke closely, as if worried he might have a seizure, “and then you... You went catatonic. Your brother tried to talk to you, but you just stared at the screen. You wouldn't respond.” My brother looked back and forth between us, unnerved. “What are you talking about? Look, I can prove what I saw,” he said, an edge of panic in his voice as he scrolled back the time marker. “Alright,” he said, hitting play. “So, there's Twilight in her chambers, here comes Discord... Discord hits her with the curse... Next scene- eh? What? N-no, it went to the next scene with Soarin, it didn't go to credits, I just saw it,” he stammered, speaking quickly and rewinding again and again, becoming frantic as he searched the same five seconds repeatedly. “Luke,” the pastor interrupted softly, and gently pried my brother's hoof off of the mouse. “Luke, it's not there. Both me and James saw it with our own eyes, and we both saw how it ended. Soarin wasn't in this one. Maybe your mind is being affected by the changes?” he asked kindly, as he would a frightened animal. Luke hung his head. “I... I swear I saw it,” he said nervously. “I'm not crazy, I know what I saw...” I frowned through their exchange, remembering back to the time I first watched the series finale. It was with a brony friend, and we had a very similar conversation after the episode ended. I thought he was pulling a prank, saying I went rigid for a good 30 seconds into the credits, so I brushed it off at the time. With what had just happened to Luke, however, I was no longer sure it was a prank. I typed 'my little pony series finale sombra ending', but found nothing relevant. I tried a few more ways of phrasing it, but that failed too. I typed in the same thing but with soarin instead of sombra – still nothing. I had the creeping feeling that we were both sharing this, just as we seemed to share whatever was turning us into ponies – only at very different times, concurrent relative to our first viewing of the episode. It seemed that neither of the endings we each saw had actually been in the show. The pieces started falling into place; my brother and I both became catatonic during our first viewing of the season finale's ending – why was still a mystery, but that much was reasonably certain. It was also reasonably certain that it was no coincidence what 'missing scene' we viewed, as they both contained our respective ponies and Discord's curse upon them. But it couldn't be the changes that initiated the vision; I saw the season finale the day it came out, and that was long before I started to transform. I briefly considered a frightening possibility, that the episode itself might initiate some sort of enchantment on random people, but quickly discarded it – my brother had only just seen it, that couldn't have been the cause. “Luke,” I broke in, “you're not crazy. Or if you are, I am too. I'm pretty sure I went catatonic and had a vision when I first saw the season finale – just like you did a minute ago. And it couldn't have been caused by our changing bodies, I saw it years ago. Since I haven't seen the same 'vision' since then, well... It's pretty safe to say we're not crazy. There's gotta be something else to this.” My brother gave a sigh of relief – apparently he was really worried his perception of reality was being debased by the changes. “Thank you Jesus,” he said fervently, leaning against the wall for support. I couldn't help but smile at that – thank you Jesus indeed, we had another clue. It couldn't be a coincidence that Luke and I both changed and had visions of our own characters being cursed by Discord. There had to be a connection. I didn't know how or why, but it was too much of a coincidence that we had the same hallucination triggered by the same event, containing our respective ponies being inflicted by the same curse by the same entity. But what did the visions mean? I considered it; maybe the Discord in our hallucinations was a sort of mental avatar of our subconscious knowledge, or a representation of a subtle and unconsciously felt magical link, to the real culprit. In any case, there was at least one more data point to collect... I grinned at my brother, and he returned a puzzled frown. It was a 'What are you grinning about?' sort of frown, and an annoyed one at that. I just tilted my head towards the video on the screen. He still looked perplexed, so I gave him a hint. “Mary,” I said, my grin turning into a self satisfied smirk. He looked confused for another moment, but then it all dawned on him at once. “You want Mary to see it!” he said, a broad smile stretching across his face, now blend of human and equine features. “And then she'll have a vision just like we did!” I nodded, still grinning and superbly self-satisfied. “Yup! And we'll probably find some answers. Tell me,” I cocked my head at him, “what kind of...” I paused, operating more on intuitive leaps and analogies than any solid reason. I pushed away the doubt – there had to be a connection, and data was data no matter how little we understand of it. I started again. “What kind of feeling do you get from the Discord from your vision? Is he like the Discord you saw in the rest of the show?” “What? They're the same thing, aren't they? How could... wait.” He frowned and looked thoughtful. “It's... It doesn't feel the same. He feels more real, somehow.” I nodded. The other depictions felt like shadows, almost, while the one in the vision felt like the thing casting the shadows – like a real, living being. It didn't make any sense, but intuition was rarely straightforward and sensible. I cackled gleefully, rubbing my hands/hooves together. “I think he's linked to whoever did this to us. You can feel it too, can't you? Maybe it's an altered memory or something, maybe it's a magical connection, but if we can figure out why he's so familiar and alive compared to the show-” “We might find out who he really is!” he finished for me. I laughed, superbly pleased with myself. “I might find out, you mean – you hardly did a thing! Just let me do all the thinkin',” I teased, ignoring his dirty look. I was getting closer to the solution, and the knowledge made me happier than I'd been since the whole mess had started. Some freaking ANSWERS for all of the madness were finally in sight. I might find a cure! A solution for my ponification! All I had to do was find out who that person was, track him down, and work from there. No more dead ends, no more goose chases – I was onto something real. I had a real goal. The pastor stepped back at that point and let us discuss it amongst ourselves – whether it was out of respect for our wishes or an attempt to segregate himself from the madness, I didn't know. Still, he had tried to help us out when we needed him, and I couldn't ignore that. While my brother called Mary – who had apparently been kept informed by Luke's text messages while I wasn't looking – I turned to the pastor. I stood up on wobbly, transitional legs and carefully made my way to him, not wanting to trip. He eyed me nervously as I extended a mutated hoof/hand. I considered dropping it, but he eventually took it and shook it. “Thanks,” I mumbled, unused to thank-you's, but he really had helped us out. “Just try to, ummm, get better,” he said, maintaining a bad pokerface as he looked me over, eyeing the changes I'd undergone in the few hours he'd seen me. I was definitely more pony than human at that point, and was quickly approaching “uncanny valley” levels of creepiness. Having decided I'd strained his credulity long enough, I headed out the door. My brother hung up the phone and grinned, following. “We're heading to Mary's,” he said, smiling broadly – and with a touch of goofiness, too, as if he was anticipating more than just answers. I snickered. “Shall I stop so you can pick up some flowers for her? She might not have had dinner yet,” I teased, earning myself a playful punch in the shoulder. Despite my teasing I was getting hungry, and we couldn't exactly just do a drive-through. “Think we should order something when we get to her house?” I asked, staying to the shadows while the pastor locked the door behind us. He frowned. “I dunno... What can we eat? Or, well, what can I eat, you can probably eat the same stuff you could before,” he said bitterly. I would have none of it. “You're a pony now,” I chuckled, making my way to the car – even as awkward as it was to walk, it was hard to dampen my spirits when things were finally beginning to clear up. “Go eat some flowers for all I care – look, there's some in that planter!” He glared at me for even suggesting it, and started giving me a scathing response, but was interrupted by his stomach. It gave a low, rumbling, angry growl like a beast, and I stifled a snicker. I climbed into the car and watched, amused. He followed a minute later, some white sap smeared on his cheek and a bit of dandelion fluff stuck in his face fuzz. He stared straight ahead without a glance at me. The ride was uneventful; I was getting better at careful manipulation and regulation of force, and found I could stabilize things by sticking my arms through the gaps in the wheel to provide additional guidance. Still, I took it slow – I'd had enough near misses for one day. The last thing we needed was an accident and the accompanying government scrutiny. I pulled up by the sidewalk in front of Mary's house, and looked around carefully. “All clear,” I mumbled, seeing no one, and we awkwardly climbed out of the vehicle. It was really starting to ache, walking on two legs instead of four, but we had to at least look human at a passing glance. “I can't wait until I can fly,” Luke groaned, falling down on all fours when we reached the darkened porch – Mary had thankfully had the foresight to leave the lights off, so we didn't need to be worried about exposure while we waited – and knocked quietly with a fore-hoof. He no longer had even vestigial hands, and I wasn't much better. I was pretty sure that we'd be full-on pony by the next morning. Still, that would have its advantages if things kept going like they were. “I can't wait until I can teleport,” I replied smugly, trying to one-up him. “Dude, that's nothing compared to flying through the air,” he snickered, poking my side teasingly. “You earth-walkers will just have to settle for watching me glide on the wind, a lord of the skies, riding thermals and soaring through clouds-” I snorted. “Getting stuck in them, too! You know they're solid for pegasi, right? Anyway, you don't even know what teleporting is like – or flying, for that matter! And while you're busy with your head literally stuck in the clouds, I'll be getting things done and saving hours of travel time.” “Oh, and that's another thing – cloud beds look awesome,” he said, unperturbed. He blew a rasberry at me with astoundingly poor timing – the door finally cracked open, and a pair of lavender eyes peered out at him from the darkened interior just as he was really letting loose. He yelped in embarrassment and surprise and caught himself, stopping abruptly and scuffing the porch floor with a hoof. “Uhhh... Hi Cadence,” he muttered bashfully. Mary giggled at the sight of him, knowing she'd walked in on a playful argument, and smiled warmly. It was eerily reminiscent of the pony from the show. “I'm still Mary, silly,” she whispered, opening the door wider and booping him on the nose. I resisted the urge to gag. “Quick, come in,” she continued, awkwardly pulling the door all the way open with a fully-formed hoof, and ushered us into the darkened room. I followed my brother in, shutting the door behind me as I did, and nodded in approval – blinds drawn, lights out, no witnesses. She'd been thorough. Now that we were safe she finally turned on the lights to greet us properly. I turned to thank her for her consideration and forethought. The words died on my lips. I expected to be delighted to see her, even in her altered form. She was a good friend, after all, and I couldn't think of anyone more fitting to represent the 'Princess of Love' – she certainly fit the character. She looked the part almost to the letter, too – she was even farther along than Luke, and besides a few patches of un-altered skin she was a perfect real-life analogue to the cartoon. So why did I recoil at the sight of her? It made no sense; I liked Mary. Not like my brother did, sure, but we got along well together, we were friends. I didn't even know what made me flinch, it happened so fast – was it anger? Disgust? Fear? It was like something suddenly forced itself to the forefront of my mind, overriding all rational thought and reacting. Whatever it was, it felt a strong... something, for her. I didn't know what it felt like, except that it wasn't a positive emotion. But just as quickly as it came, it fled back to the inaccessible recesses of my mind like a forgotten dream. I shook my head, trying to clear it, but the unease lingered. Maybe I was just hungry, or sleep deprived, but I doubted it. I coughed and spoke up. “Hey Mary, I'm starving, mind if we order something?” I asked, trying to shake off the feeling that something wasn't quite right. She turned to me with a smile and started to speak, but froze the moment she laid eyes on me. She yelped with surprise, her face a picture of shock and... was that fear? It was gone too fast to know for sure, but something told me my suspicions were correct. She was afraid. Of me. A friend she'd known for years, and looked out for her when rude, rambunctious, or outright licentiously creepy customers came into the store and bothered her. I grimaced, surprised how much it hurt to see that look on her face, even for an instant. But it did make an odd sort of symmetrical sense – I was starting to see patterns in all of this, even if the larger pattern was inscrutable. She had just felt the same thing I had, the same unbidden surge of irrational feeling. Wonderful. More mystery, more things that didn't add up but were somehow appropriate and consistent. In a split second the fear disappeared, replaced by confusion. “James?” she asked hesitantly, taking a tentative step forward. I closed my eyes with a sigh, wondering every first impression was going to be tainted by fear. “Yes, it's me,” I muttered resignedly, trying to get it over with. It didn't help that I looked like the result of a death metal band designing a My Little Pony character. “I know I look... weird, but it's still me under all of this.” I scuffed the floor, hoping that my dark fur had grown in thick enough to hide my blush. She looked down at her hooves for a moment, abashed, then firmly met my gaze. “I'm sorry you changed into... whatever that is,” she said, waving a hoof dismissively, as if it were of no actual importance what I looked like, “and I'm sorry I reacted like I did. It was wrong, and you don't deserve it. It's not your fault you look like that.” Of course, she had read me like a book. She always was good at reading people, knowing how they felt. “Not your fault either,” I said gruffly, just wanting the conversation to be over – I wasn't fond of emotional talk, but that girl could discuss her feelings all day long if given half a chance. I fished for a good segue into a different, more interesting topic. It had to be something we could both relate to, something that would make her forget the earlier awkwardness... I grinned, the perfect topic popped into my head after a moment's thought. “Besides, it's not all bad,” I said, turning to a magazine the end-table. I concentrated for a moment, focusing on the bundle of papers, and smiled as the simple levitation spell came to me easily – it was becoming second-nature. Better yet, it had the desired effect. Her jaw dropped. She watched the magazine with ever-widening eyes as it slowly floated upwards in total defiance of gravity. I snickered as I watched her, loving every moment of her shock and amazement. “I... You said you could do magic,” she finally stammered, still fixated on the softly glowing magazine. “I thought you were being metaphorical or something!” I chuckled and released the spell, letting the magazine flutter to the floor in a heap. “Nope! I'm now a magical gothic unicorn stallion – mostly, at least,” I said, looking down at myself. The changes weren't bothering me as much as I thought they would. In fact, that they were almost complete had somehow made it less disconcerting. It was much more comfortable than the halfway stages, with the cumbersome body and awkward gait. It started to feel less like I was mutating into some sort of freakish monstrosity and more like I was putting on an old, familiar garment. I considered trying to do more things with my magic – that 'incinerate' spell definitely needed more investigation – but the look of betrayal on my brother's face gave me pause. What on earth was bothering him? All I'd done was show her a spell, and she really seemed impressed by it – oh. Of course he was annoyed, I had just upstaged him in front of his crush. I resisted the urge to facehoof and simply started walking away – she wasn't my squeeze, and it wouldn't profit my anything to get between them. Ah, but that wouldn't do, I thought; it was already out, and Luke would probably bug me for it later... I had to nip that in the bud. “Oh, and Luke can fly,” I said easily, quickly and effectively diverting all of the attention to him instead. His eyes flew open in surprise as I put him on the spot. “I can fly?” he stammered, and struggled to recover. “Err, yes,” he said more firmly, “yes, I can fly,” He glared at me before turning to Mary and giving her a confident smile. “It's not much yet, but I figure I just need practice,” he said, swaggering into the kitchen and towards the back door. Either Mary hadn't noticed the awkwardness of the exchange, or she chose the tactful path and ignored it. Probably the latter. “You guys can do such awesome stuff, I'm so jealous!” she said, even though she didn't sound the least bit envious. Indeed, she sounded positively excited for us. I smiled a little – she really was a sweet girl, and a good friend. I prayed that none of that would change as we tried to find a way to change back. In the meantime... Well, why shouldn't she join in on the fun? “Actually,” I chuckled, “you can probably do both! Those wings and that horn, they aren't just decorations. And if you're turning into a genuine alicorn, you may well be stronger and faster than both of us. Physically, anyway,” I said, loath to admit that she could be more magically powerful than I was – Cadance never seemed very powerful in the show, so who really knew? It took me a few moments to realize that she had fallen behind. I turned back to ask what the holdup was, only to see a look of utter shock on her face. She froze and stared. “I... I can?” she asked nervously, taking a step back and eyeing both of us. While she had been thrilled at our skills, the thought of sharing them seemed to frighten her. I cocked my head, wondering at her reaction. Why didn't she like the idea of a little power? “Ummm, yeah, I think you can,” I said carefully, trying not to scare her further even as I struggled to understand what was at all frightening about the prospect. “It's totally up to you if you wanna learn them, though.” Luke nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. “Come on, we can both practice together!” he said eagerly, practically bouncing on his hooves as his wings fluttered. That seemed to convince her; she smiled and followed, eager to see her friend have fun even if she had doubts about her own involvement. It didn't hurt that his excitement was contagious – even I wanted to come and watch him fly for the first time, if he indeed could fly. If he couldn't... Well, at worst he'd have a bruised ego, and I'd get to feel smugly superior to his foolish attempts. I followed them out, not wanting to miss out on his first attempt at flight no matter the result. As we strode onto the soft turf and I looked around, however, I noticed something distressing. “Those fences are only a few feet tall... If he flies, he might be seen!” I whispered urgently, looking around with a nervous eye at the disturbing lack of cover. Luke groaned at my hesitation. “Look, I'll just try to hover, alright? And even if I flew up high, well, who looks up? Plus, it's dark! No one's gonna see blue against a blue night sky!” he assured me nonchalantly, stepping into the open air of the yard and spreading his well-developed wings. “BRIGHT blue against a DARK blue night sky!” I hissed, but he was already flapping. With a groan of anguish I stepped back into the shadows, preparing for the worst. Perhaps the CDC would be more interested in a stupid pegasus than a brilliant unicorn... It only took a few steady beats of his wings before his hooves left the ground, his face lighting up like a child's on Christmas morning. He beamed at all of us as he beat a steady tempo in the air, hovering effortlessly – and fortunately had the forethought to keep any gleeful giggles bottled up. I grumbled, looking about warily for any onlookers, and for the first time since I'd got my horn I was a little jealous of his wings. But only a little – mostly, I was just worried he'd do something stupid. Aaaand there he went; he floated higher as I watched, and before I knew what he was doing he was level with the roof – easily in view of anyone nearby. “Luke!” I hissed, my annoyance turning to panic, “you gotta come down!” I don't know whether he heard me, but I don't think he would have listened if he had. And I couldn't really blame him. I grumbled and fell silent as he rose higher and higher, the ecstatic look of purest joy never leaving his face as he left the ground far behind. In a few moments he was well beyond any quiet attempts to call him down, so I waited in silence for him to come back on his own. Mary was the first to speak. “So... He really can fly,” she said in a hushed voice, barely able to believe it herself. I nodded and turned to her, sighing – since no one was shouting about a flying pony, I figured we were in the clear for a while. Safe, at least, until he came back down. “Yeah,” I replied simply. “Yeah, he can. It's almost like he was born to fly, he took to it so naturally... If that were me, I would probably be fertilizing the ground below,” I joked nervously. “But, well... I don't know.” I turned to her and frowned. All of it felt too natural, too right. “What if we turned into, I dunno, the Thundercats instead of these ponies?” She balked at my question, staring. “Wh-what?” she asked, nonplussed. I fumbled to explain. “Well, see... we're turning into these ponies from an animated cartoon, right? Things that aren't real? What if we'd been turned into something else, from a different cartoon series? Would that feel natural, too? What if we turned into the Carebears?” She shook her head and giggled. “Of course that wouldn't feel natural, we're not Carebears, we're-” She fell silent, her eyes widening. “Go on,” I urged. “We're what?” She coughed and tried to regain her composure. “I-I was going to say, we're ponies... But, we're not ponies. We're human beings. I'm Mary, not some pony princess,” she said, looking down at herself in confusion. “And you're James, not Sombra. Why should this feel natural – it's not natural at all!” I shook my head with a snort. “Don't worry about it, it's probably just a symptom of whatever's making us change,” I said dismissively. Fake-Discord probably thought it'd be a fine joke to play on us, making us feel 'natural' in these bodies. “As I was saying – this feels natural, right? It feels like it's part of who we are, like these bodies mesh perfectly with our skills and our natures. At least, superficially – I would never want to be a tyrant like Sombra,” I chuckled nervously, trying to push away the uneasiness of that train of thought. While we waited for Luke to come back, I filled her in on the current theory. She listened patiently as I explained about the visions we both shared, and how we thought that there was someone behind our transformations – someone powerfully magically and insanely deluded. Her eyes widened as I told her about some of the things Discord did in the television show, and how we could probably expect the same behavior from the mystery maniac. “So... You think he turned us into these things to assuage his psyche?” she asked, catching on quickly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise – I hadn't thought about that. I thought maybe he was just doing it for fun. “That's a good point,” I mumbled, wondering why I hadn't thought of it... But then, she was much better at figuring people's motivations and feelings than I was. She nodded slowly. “So, why us? Out of all the people in the world, why would we be targeted?” I frowned. “I don't know. I've been thinking it was some sort of common physical vector – touching the same cursed object, watching the same cursed thing – but now I'm not so sure. He could have drawn names out of a hat for all I know.” She pondered for a moment. “Well,” she started hesitantly, “maybe it wasn't something we came into contact with. Maybe it has to do with who we are...” “Who... who we are?” I asked, shivering. I was nothing like Sombra, even if I did find my new body strangely comfortable. “Well,” she said carefully, trying to spare my feelings, “this body feels very natural to me. And you said it yourself, that body felt natural to you. Maybe there's an element of... Well, similar in heart and mind? It would make sense for someone with such delusions to seek out people similar to the ponies in the show to turn them into what his delusions say we are?” I grimaced – she had a good point, there. “Look,” I mumbled, “you really are a kindred spirit to Princess Cadence,” I admitted reluctantly. “You're sweet and kind and you... well, you know how people feel and you always bring people together. I suppose I can't think of anyone who would make a better Cadence. And Luke... Well, he's a natural athlete and acrobat, and he always likes showing off. He also knows when to relax and when to push his limits, just like Soarin' from the show. But,” I stared at her with a touch of defiance, “I am NOTHING like Sombra. I would never do... well, whatever nebulous things he did. I mean, I'm not some sort of power-mad dictator, I'm just...” I stopped at the look on her face, stricken. “What?” I asked, fearing the answer and reluctant to hear it. She paused, considering, and quickly shook her head. “It's nothing,” she said hastily. I opened my mouth, incensed and fully intending to demand she tell me, when a dark shape swooped down from the sky and landed lightly on the grass. We both turned to watch as Luke trotted on all fours towards us, nearly bursting with glee. “That was so awesome! Did you see me! I did flips and barrel rolls and-” His face fell as he looked between us, crestfallen at our lack of enthusiasm. “W-well... I thought it was cool,” he muttered, bowing his head. Mary quickly smiled and hugged him. “No, no, that was awesome!” she whispered excitedly, “we were just talking about some really heavy stuff.” I grimaced, hoping he wouldn't ask about it. Fortunately, he was more interested in his own first flight. “Oh, okay,” he said, brightening immediately and talking enthusiastically about all of the aerial maneuvers he performed and how it felt to fly through the air unfettered. “I can't wait until you can do it too, it'll be so awesome to have a flight buddy!” We all trotted back inside, the two of them talking animatedly about flying and how cool it was while I was deep in thought. How could I possibly be like Sombra? I wasn't a tyrant, I didn't want to see ponies suffer. But... that was all I really knew about that evil pony. Besides the two Crystal Empire episodes at the beginning of season 3, there was no information on him. We had no idea what his character was like, beyond “evil dark nasty overlord”. For all I knew... ...For all I knew, I was very much like him. Still dwelling on those disconcerting thoughts, I allowed their conversation to go on without me. It drifted from talk of flight, to aerial maneuvers, to whether they'd have to learn to preen, to how fast they could fly... all things that might have interested me if I weren't silently occupied with my own depressing notions. But it wasn't long before the topic came back to the transformations. 'Can't leave it well enough alone,' I thought tiredly, mentally wrenching myself out of the rut and trying to look at things in as coldly logical fashion as I could manage. It wouldn't help to mope, nor would it solve anything by running my mind through the same dreary cycles. “Cadence,” I broke in, trying to keep my voice level, “you never got to expound on your theory – could you elaborate?” “Oh, is that what you two were talking about?” my brother asked, eyes brightening and wings fluttering. If I had been in a better mood it might have cheered me to think of how expressive pegasi could be with their wings, but at that moment could only look on stoically. “Well, go on – the more ideas we throw around, the more likely we are to come up with the right one.” Mary managed to keep a smile on her ponified features, but it no longer reached her eyes. “Well,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “I was just telling Som- err, James, that we seem to somewhat match the ponies we're turning into – at least, in personality and skills,” she added quickly. Luke looked between her placating smile and my carefully expressionless face as she continued. “I think that whoever did this may have selected people based on how well they matched the characters in the show. I read up a bit on Soarin – his hair's adorable, by the way,” she said, reaching forward and brushing Luke's mane and making him blush like a schoolboy, “and, well, Luke certainly likes to fly through the air at his gymnastics place. Plus, they both know how to relax and how to be serious when they need to – and they're both totally comfortable in either situation.” Even with my heart weighed down as it was, I couldn't resist a smirk at Luke's discomfiture. He scuffed at the floor, his blush showing clear through his fur, as he stammered, “W-well, you're... You're really good at reading people. And you're always gentle and kind, and, umm...” He struggled to find the word, trying to pin down exactly what key quality they shared. “...Uncorruptable,” he finally said firmly, nodding to himself. I frowned, but he was right; there was always something about Mary that made her seem immune to any nastiness that came about. No matter how belligerent or nasty the customer was, Mary took it in stride and never got mad or petty or vengeful. She simply served them as best as she could, and even if they didn't like it – even if they hated her for it – she didn't let them take away her joy. An uncomfortable silence grew as they both pointedly avoided looking at me. I had to break the silence. “I hate to bring up the elephant in the room,” I muttered, “but what about me? Am I anything like... like that thing?” I tried to keep up a brave facade, hoping that they would immediately deny the idea, insisting that I was an exception or dropping the theory entirely. Unfortunately, no rebuttal was forthcoming. If anything, they looked thoughtful. My brother spoke, and far too quickly for my liking. “You do get mad really easily,” he said, frowning and giving me a contemplative look. “And, well... You do seem to lack empathy sometimes. And you are a real stickler for the rules. I wouldn't call you 'lawful evil', but sometimes you take it too far. It's like you care more about the rules than the people the rules are supposed to help.” I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Was that really what they thought of me?! I... The rules were there to protect the shop, and I HAD to protect the shop since no one else would – or could! But before I could recover and tell him just how wrong he was, he spoke again. “And I've seen you with customers, sometimes,” he continued, holding up a hoof as if listing things off even though he had no digits to do so, “When they're being jerks, well... it's not obvious, but I can tell that you enjoy turning them down. The pastor might not see it, but I do.” I glowered at him, feeling betrayed. “Y-you're wrong,” I stammered stubbornly, unable to meet their eyes. “I... I just follow the rules. And I like it when I can enforce them – that's all! I like it when jerks get what they deserve, I like it when – STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!” I bellowed, indignant at their looks of pity and concern. I instantly regretted the outburst, but the damage was done. I squeezed my eyes shut and physically forced myself to calm down, taking deep breaths to steady my heart and ease the tension in my neck. When I spoke again, I was back in control of myself. “You're wrong,” I said coldly, firmly, glaring at Luke. “I'm not evil, I'm not a tyrant, and even if I do have a few negative qualities... I'm not a monster.” “Hey, I never did-” Luke started to shout, but Mary interjected. “Please, James,” she said kindly, trying to keep the peace, “we have no idea what kind of criteria the person used; it's hard to imagine anyone as evil as Sombra, and he may have had match you based on more subtle personality traits. Or, as you said, he may have simply drew names from a hat, and we just happen to match our characters really well.” It was an interesting theory... but too little, too late. “I need to use the toilet,” I said gruffly, walking stiffly on all fours down the hall and into her bathroom. I resisted the urge to slam the door – that would just be childish – but made sure to lock it as loudly as I reasonably could. Luke was wrong. That was all there was to it.