“So how does this thing work?”
“That’s classified.”
“Did you really break five thousand wingpower?”
“Yes.”
“What about wind resistance? And drag?”
“Classified.”
“What altitude did you fly at? Did you fly around the world? Did you make a bunch of sonic rainbooms in a row?”
“Classified, classified, classified! Look, kid —”
“I’m not a kid!”
Bravo Zulu let out a heavy sigh. This is not how his triumphant return played out in his head. It took him nearly five minutes to disengage all the clamps and cables from his wings, with the blue pegasus hovering over him the whole time. Bravo determined to keep a stoic face, never betraying his anxiousness to tear the heavy mechanism off his no-longer-young back where the pain had just begun to creep up his spine.
“Listen,” he grunted, “I have no idea what the stark starling is going on. I should be waving from a carriage in a ticker-tape parade in my honor, but instead I’m in some strange town which may or may not be a hundred years in the past, talking to a pony who may or may not be my...er...relative. Here, give me a hoof.”
He lifted up his forelegs. Rainbow Dash alighted and grabbed hold of the metallic wings, letting Bravo pull himself the rest of the way out, hissing through his teeth. He thanked her, brusquely lifted the vehicle from her, and set it on the floor in one corner.
“So, you’ll forgive me if I’m not, y’know, forthcoming with the details of my mission until I have a better grasp on reality. Okay?”
“Okay, okay,” said Rainbow, rolling her eyes, “Sheesh, I get it.”
Bravo popped open a string of hidden snaps on his flightsuit.
“But just so you know, I am Rainbow Dash, and this is Ponyville, and you are —”
Rainbow lost track of what she was saying. Bravo stripped off the flightsuit, revealing the rest of his flowing rainbow mane (albeit in the reverse order of colors from her own hair) and his cutie mark: a streaking comet with a tail of red, yellow, and blue stripes.
“You really are, like...my great-grandson. That’s so...so…”
“Weird?” said Bravo, leaning back and letting his spine crackle audibly, stretching out his impressive wingspan. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Applejack and Rarity pushed a couple of the longer tables together, and one by one, nine ponies and a dragon encircled them for a post-party conference. Pinkie Pie made sure to pour everypony a cup of Super Sassafras 'n Sugar Sassparilla. Rarity tsked at Twilight Sparkle; her friend had shed her black spysuit and carelessly draped it over the apron of the stage without even folding it. Rarity lifted it up and shook her head at the rended cloth.
Twilight had also removed the eyepatch. Angry redness still rimmed her right eye. She took off the bandage and kept trying to push her mane back into its usual bangs, but they sprang back up like quills on a hedgehog.
Smart Cookie made a point of planting herself firmly between Applejack and Pinkie. She hadn’t said a word to anypony. She glanced up occasionally at the stars through the tall windows, absently tugging at the plume in her hat. She didn’t dare make eye contact with the red dragon at the opposite end of the table.
Rhindle sat politely on the floor with his claws clasped on the table, frowning. At his right, Rarity took a stab at conversation while she magically opened up the sewing kit she carried for wardrobe emergencies. “I must say,” she said, “your ensemble is simply dashing. The silver trim on your waistcoat is most expertly woven.”
“Thank you,” mumbled Rhindle, not looking at her.
“Do all dragons back home dress as finely as you?”
To her surprise, Rhindle covered his mouth to muffle a strangely mirthless chuckle.
“Whatever is so funny?” she asked, taken a bit aback.
“No, actually, nobody dresses like this. I got this from a costume shop. This is how they would dress in 1889, not 1985.”
To his left, Fluttershy gave him a small poke in the side.
“But you’re right. It is, erm, well-made.”
Rarity favored him with an understanding smile, and removed a needle and spool of thread from the kit. She started to fetch Twilight’s distressed spysuit in her blue aura, when suddenly a stronger lavender aura pulled it away.
“Rarity, what are you doing?” demanded Twilight.
“I thought I would just fix the holes in your —”
“No, please, just leave it exactly like it is.” Twilight floated the black garment back onto the stage.
“It’s no trouble, Twilight, really.”
“It’s not that, Rarity. I need to look exactly the same when I go back to 1217.”
“What’s the big deal?” chimed Rainbow, joining the table with Bravo Zulu. “It’s already happened, so you don’t have to worry about changing the past.”
“Exactly! I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to go precisely the same way as if I’d never come here to 1219 in the first place. So when I go back, I need to wear the torn suit, the eyepatch, and everything, and look just like I did before! No changes, no spoilers!”
“What’re you gonna do?” asked Rainbow. “Cut your cheek again?”
Twilight touched the indigo gash on her face, which had already begun to scab.
“Maybe Rarity could...help me with some makeup?”
During this, Eureka levitated his egg-shaped device onto the middle of the table. He shrugged off his coat no-longer-of-many-colors and draped it over a chair, loosened his tie, and cleared his throat. All eyes were on him.
“Once again, I want to say how very, very sorry I am to have gotten you all into this cransing mess. Excuse my language.”
“Yes, your apologies have been frequent and profuse, unicorn,” growled Smart Cookie. “Please be so good as to cease your supplication and get on with your explanation!”
“Yes, um, sorry, right.” Eureka swallowed hard. “Without going into too much detail about my home —” He gave Twilight a significant nod. “— I’ve been fascinated with the idea of time travel since I was a colt. My parents took me to this exhibit at the Hoofington Museum of Equestrian History. The exhibit was called, ‘The Future That Never Was.’ They had displays of all these old movie posters and books and paintings of what people in the past thought the future was going to look like. Some of it was just science fiction, with laser-crossbows and flying carriages and ponybots, and alien ponies from other planets in bubble space helmets.”
“That sounds awesome!” cried Rainbow with wide eyes.
“It was totally awesome, even though none of it ever came true. At least, not by 1543."
“Aw.”
“But it blew my drackling mind as a kid.” He turned a shade of red. “Sorry, ladies, I tend to curse a lot when I’m excited.”
“Quite alright,” giggled Rarity, sharing everyone’s complete lack of offense.
“Anyway, this was just after I’d gotten my engineering cutie mark, and my mind raced with all these amazing things I could build to make the world a better place. I think my parents brought me there to encourage me, even though they didn’t care much for my cutie mark.”
“They didn’t?” squeaked Fluttershy. “Why not?”
“Well, that’s a story for another time.”
“Good,” grumbled Smart Cookie. Applejack gave her a reproachful look.
“Just as we were leaving the museum, my parents asked me what I wanted to build when I grew up. I was going to say something like a spaceship or a floating city made of concrete and steel instead of clouds. But right next to the exit, there was a glass case, and inside...well, here, let me show you.”
His horn shone blue and he rummaged through his saddlebag and produced a small photograph, printed on a pliable yet glossy form of paper none of them had seen before. He passed it over to Pinkie Pie. The others craned their necks to see.
In the photo was the glass case, with a sign above that read “Always Dare to Dream!” in gold lettering. The case itself contained only a small card, a bit yellowed and frayed along its edges, but still quite legible.
Pinkie’s smile grew and grew. Then she bounced eight feet in the air.
“My invitation!” She jumped over the table and gave Eureka a hug, then bounced in a circle around the hall. Everypony laughed, except Rhindle, Smart Cookie, and Bravo.
“It ended up in a museum?” said Twilight.
“That’s right!" beamed Eureka, getting his breath back, “and I turned to my mom and dad and told them I was going to build a time machine so I could meet Pinkie Pie.”
“Who woulda thought it?” said Applejack, “What’d they say to that?”
“Oh, they laughed at me. I didn’t even know who this Pinkie Pie was, and I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t know either. I wasn’t hard to find out, though. Just took a little research.”
“Yay!” cheered Pinkie, “I went down in history!”
“You all did, the six of you. After all —”
“Hey, spoilers!” snapped Twilight.
“This is all so very endearing,” droned Smart Cookie, her forelegs crossed across her bodice, “but would you kindly arrive at the part where you invented a time machine?”
“Right,” said Eureka sheepishly. “Now, by my time, unicorns had given up on time magic, thinking they were unsafe, and scientists abandoned the idea after many failed attempts at time machines. They theorized the existence of an entrodeterminate membrane through which a physical object could penetrate and travel anywhere in time and space.”
Twilight’s ears perked up at the terminology, mostly because she’d never heard of it. I’m not supposed to know about this, she thought, but, ooo, I can tell this is going to be good!
“But they gave up when they concluded that no living thing could pass through the membrane — if it existed — and survive. I devoted my life to figuring out if, a.) the entro membrane existed, and b.) if there was some means of circumventing that restriction. To make a long story short —”
“Too late,” said Rainbow Dash.
“ — after twenty years of research and experimentation, I discovered the answers were ‘yes’ and ‘yes.’ I came up with this.”
He magically held aloft his lustrous contraption.
“I call it the chronograppler. Or just the grappler, for short. Like a grappling hook, it attaches itself to a point in space and time, then it draws you towards it.”
“You lost me,” said Rainbow and Applejack, simultaneously. “Jinxies!” shouted Rainbow. She stuck out her tongue at Applejack. “You owe me a Colta Cola.” Eureka ignored them, set his invention back down on the table, and sat up straighter, self-consciously entering his exposition mode.
“Okay, first, I program the grappler, and it passes through the membrane and appears at a particular point in time. Once it arrives there, it searches out the timeline, both past and future, looking for me. Now, here’s the important part: in order for the grappler to find me, I have to detach myself from the natural flow of time. In order for it to do that, I cast a spell I’ve learned that lets me become frozen in time.”
“You know a time stasis spell?” gushed Twilight. Eureka offered a humble nod. “Those are still unheard of! You can actually freeze time all around you? It must be really useful, am I right?”
“Not as much as you might think,” said Eureka. “It only lasts for point-forty-two seconds, and if I cast it more than twice in the same day, I get cransing migraines like you wouldn’t believe. But it’s just enough for me to escape natural time. Then, the grappler pinpoints me with this.”
He tugged at the black garment around his neck.
“Your tie?” asked Rarity, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. Well, what’s in the tie. There’s an alloy of — some metal you don’t know about yet — woven into the fabric. So the grappler finds me floating outside natural time, detects my tie, pulls me instantly through the timeline, and projects me nearby. Ta da!”
He stood on his hind legs in the sort of pose reserved for the conclusion of an extended tap number. Pinkie and Twilight clapped. Nopony else did. He blushed and sat back down.
“Well, that’s how you got here,” grumbled Bravo Zulu, “but what about the rest of us?”
“That’s where I went wrong. I thought that I designed its shell to withstand any environmental hazards. I did not foresee its vulnerability to acid. Such as was in Pinkie’s lemon and lime punch.”
“The acid made it malfunction?” asked Twilight, stirring the tip of her hoof in the offending punchbowl.
“‘Fraid so. The mechanism that restricts its search to the alloys in my tie got fried, and so did its automatic shut-off trigger. It turned itself back on and started searching again for life forms outside of natural time. Whoever, wherever, and whenever they might be.”
Twilight gaped at the inert grappler, as if it would explode.
“So it would have eventually brought every time traveller that ever existed...here?”
“That would depend on how many time travellers have ever existed, or will ever exist,” said Eureka, “but the gem that acts as its power source would’ve shattered long before that happened.” He levitated the two sad halves of the gem onto the table.
“Such a shame,” said Rarity.
“But I’m not a time traveller!” said Bravo, “I’m a test flyer!”
“And I, merely a secretary!” added Smart Cookie.
“Well, my case is easily explained,” said Twilight, raising her voice above the objections. “I was using a time spell. The grappler must have seized me on my return trip. But what about the others?”
“I know why I’m here.” All heads turned towards the morose dragon. He sighed like a broken bellows. Another tear glinted in the corner of his eye when he felt a soft touch on his side.
“It’s okay,” whispered Fluttershy. “Go ahead.”
Rhindle hesitated, wringing his claws. But the nice little pegasus’ blue eyes were impossible to ignore.
“I didn’t use a time spell, exactly. It was a love spell.”
“Oh, brother,” groaned Rainbow, planting hoof to head.
“Where I come from, in 1985, this whole country isn’t Equestria, it’s the Grand Harmonious Kingdom.”
“Spoilers,” hissed Twilight.
“A place where everyone lives together in peace and friendship, and every pony, donkey, mule, griffon, draconequus, zebra, and dragon is treated fairly and equally.”
“Spoilers!”
‘It sounds like a veritable utopia,” mused Eureka, with a faraway look.
“It sounds wonderful,” peeped Fluttershy.
“It sounds like paradise,” chimed Rarity.
“It’s boring!” groaned Rhindle.
An uneasy silence hung above the company.
“You see, I was studying at the University of...well, a university, to be a poet. With a minor in archaic magic.”
At this, he lifted a claw, which glowed red, momentarily floating his cup.
“But every poet in 1985 just wants to write about the beauty of nature and the wonders of friendship. The most celebrated poet of our time, a donkey named Beneficent, is renowned for his masterpiece, a three-hundred page epic on clover. Clover! Ugggh. How can they all stand it?”
For the first time since his arrival, Rhindle sat up and abandoned his usual slouch, which had the effect of towering above the assembled ponies. Fluttershy stifled a shiver.
“I wanted my work to be full of passion, and passion cannot exist without conflict. So my work explored things like war and sickness and death.”
“Let me guess,” said Twilight. “The university considered your work blasphemous, and you were expelled?”
“No!” shouted Rhindle. Everypony cringed. Faint, twin whisps of gray smoke wafted from the frustrated dragon’s nose. “They accepted it! Everyone’s work has merit, they all say, and they praised me for my courage!”
“How dare they,” sneered the earth pony secretary. Applejack gave her a nudge. Founder of Equestria or not, the farmer couldn’t abide her sarcasm.
“It’s not like they understood any of it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter; I don’t write poetry for them, I write it for me. But I needed to delve deeper into conflict, so I turned toward history.”
Rhindle crossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his claws on the table.
“I became fascinated with the wars of the previous century...the details of which I won’t get into right now.”
“Good,” murmured Twilight.
“So I read everything I could about the period. It was fascinating! There was war, there were economic crises, there was injustice...and yet the dragon kingdoms weren't torn apart. It brought them together, and they became more genteel, more civilized. They adopted a code of chivalry. It guided them through the misery of the age.”
Rarity smiled broadly, and her eyes became lost in a dream. It reminded her of something out of one her favorite romances.
“Late one night, I’m in the library, flipping through old volumes with drawings and photographs of dragons from the 1800’s, getting a feel for their dress and manners...and I came across...her…”
He reached into his vest pocket and produced the gold watch. He opened it gently, and set it in the middle of the table, revealing the picture of the elegant dragoness. Every pony neck stretched out.
“Just look at those eyes. That smile. Those nostrils. Something happened to me that day. I knew from the moment I beheld her that my life had changed forever. I lost my appetite, I never slept, I even stopped writing. I couldn’t study, I stopped attending classes. Wherever I went, her image floated in front of my eyes. I cut this picture out of the book and carried it with me everywhere. I just knew...everything I ever needed was in that beautiful face. I knew I needed to find her, and spend the rest of my life with her.”
Rainbow Dash pantomimed the act of sticking her hoof in her throat and throwing up. Applejack beaned her across the head with an empty cup.
“That,” croaked Rarity, “is the most incredibly romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” She put a hoof to her head and slowly fell back into a swoon. Twilight, without looking, caught her in her magic and gently set her on the floor.
“I dropped out of school and travelled to every corner of the kingdom, searching through every library and archive I could find for any information about her. But she remains a mystery. Finally, I found the original photograph on display at a museum...the same one, by the way,” he said to Eureka, “where you found Miss Pie’s invitation.”
“The museum is still there? In Hoofington?”
“Sure, only now it’s called —"
"Ahem," said Twilight. Rhindle smirked meekly and continued.
“No one at the museum knew who she was either. For three days, I went there when it first opened, sat and stared at the photograph all day, and only left when the guards pushed me out. On the fourth day, the curator, a zebra, took pity on me, in a small way. She consented to remove the picture from the display so I could examine it further. And when I looked on the back, there it was. The date, claw-written. The 19th of February, 1889.
“That’s the only clue I ever found. It was enough. I went back to the university in search of the love spell I had once happened upon quite accidentally in my studies. It’s a powerful spell, designed to transport the caster to the side of his or her true love.”
“Love spells can be pretty dangerous,” said Twilight, reddening at the memory of her misused Want-It, Need-It spell.”
“They’ve been perfected over the years, and pretty much discarded by 1985. But I found this one. Now, this spell is only supposed to teleport you across space to wherever your true love might be, but I believed I could make it transport me across the decades as well. Back to that exact date, in fact. I love her so much, it just had to work. Think of it! I could be right there when that picture was taken! And maybe…” He levitated the watch into his hand, and stared hypnotically at the image it contained.
“Maybe she’s smiling at me.”
Rarity came to just so she could gasp and sigh and swoon away again. Applejack facehoofed.
“So, I bought these clothes, sold my modern possessions. I concentrated on the date, and her, and my undying love, and...cast the spell.”
The dragon deflated on the spot, a new tear falling on the tablecloth with a faint tap. Fluttershy did something that nopony, including herself, thought she’d ever do. She hugged a dragon. Everypony was silent.
“I...guess it worked,” he sobbed. “Almost.”
“Again,” said Eureka, mortified, “I’m very sorry. Can’t you cast it again?”
Rhindle shook his head. “I...don’t think I can,” he choked.
“Shhh,” whispered Fluttershy, stroking his scaly back.
“But what about me?” Bravo Zulu’s abrupt bass shout resounded around the hall, squashing the mood like an insect. “I just broke five thousand wingpower, not the ‘time barrier!’” He formed air-quotes with his hooves.
“Actually, I have an idea about that,” said Eureka. He floated a notepad out of his bags, along with an odd little silver cylinder with a point, which Twilight deduced, correctly, was some kind of self-inking quill. He scribbled a long series of complicated equations, sticking the tip of his tongue out one corner of his mouth. Bravo scowled with impatience.
“There’s a theory posed by the physicist...by somepony you don’t know, that if a pegasus ever flew at a fast enough speed, time would begin to actually slow down for them.”
“You mean, time dilation?” asked Twilight, unabashedly geeking out a smidge.
“That's right! The theory stated that if a pegasus flew around the moon at certain high speeds for, let’s say, five years, she would return home and discover that she was younger than her twin sister!”
“That doesn’t sound right,” said Rainbow Dash, hovering above the yellow unicorn and squinting as his incomprehensible numbers. “How could anypony keep flying around the moon for five years? When would they eat and sleep? And I’m the fastest flyer in Equestria. If time slowed down for me, how come I’m always late for things?”
“You’re not that fast,” grunted Bravo.
“He’s right,” admitted Eureka, peering up at her. “That’s why it was only a theory. No pegasus could go anywhere near that fast with only their wings.”
Rainbow Dash landed and pouted, feeling like she’d lost a race.
“But, Major, if you truly achieved a velocity of five thousand wingpower —”
“Which I did.”
“— you might have successfully proven the theory correct about sixty years before it was even proposed.”
“Neat!” said Twilight, averting her eyes to avoid reading his calculations.
“Now the actual dilation that you experienced, even at that uncanny speed, would have been so insignificant, you wouldn’t have noticed it. You would’ve lost, say, one second every twenty years. But.”
He saw the gleeful expression on the purple unicorn next to him, and nodded for her to finish.
“It must have been just enough for the chronograppler to recognize you as being outside natural time!” Twilight practically sang.
Bravo stared hard at the dead machine on the table, then at Eureka. Then he quite loudly uttered a profanity that the ponies of 1219 YCL recognized. Pinkie covered her mouth and giggled. Rainbow took no notice. She gazed almost longingly at Bravo’s winged apparatus in the corner of the hall. It goes so fast, she thought, it even bends time!
There was a thump at one end of the table. Smart Cookie had slammed down the vial of purple potion so hard, it’s a wonder it didn’t shatter.
“What. About. This?” She seethed, her orange eyes bulging. “Our spies recovered a potion from the laboratory of Starswirl the Bearded himself, which was plainly labeled as a transportation potion! Can you please find it in your heart, unicorn, to explain to me in your infinite wisdom what I am doing here?”
As if in answer, there was a loud plooink! noise which caused everypony to jump, and a cloud of green smoke erupted from a single point above the stage. The smoke vanished, revealing Pinkie Pie, holding the vial of potion in her hooves.
Except that Pinkie was still sitting at the table. And the same vial sat in front of Smart Cookie.
“What the —?” began Applejack, looking back and forth between the Pinkie Pies and feeling a pang of deja vu.
The new Pinkie waved at the original Pinkie.
“Hey, me!” she shouted. “I dare ya to drink that potion!”
“Okie dokie loki, me!” chimed original Pinkie, who snatched the vial from the table with both hooves, tipped it back, and quaffed the purple fluid with a glug, glug, glug.
Twilight vaulted over the table.
“Pinkie, no!”
Before Twilight landed, there was an equally loud plooink! sound. A green cloud spontaneously enveloped the first Pinkie. The cloud sucked back into a singularity, and the cloud, Pinkie, and vial were gone. Twilight pounced headfirst onto the empty spot on the floor.
“Cool!” shouted the remaining Pinkie. “Again!” She opened her mouth for another drink, but Applejack leapt onto the stage and swiped the vial away from her. Smart Cookie beheld this scene with an expression that didn’t look smart at all.
“But I do not understand,” she managed. “What just happened?"
Twilight cleared her throat. The blue earth pony shot her a suspicious glance.
“Madam Secretary,” she said, slowly. Smart Cookie relaxed a fraction at the sound of her proper title. “I notice there’s no label on the potion now. Did you see the label yourself?”
“No,” said Smart Cookie, at length. The sting of dread crept over her.
“Did one of your spies tell you it was a teleportation spell?”
“No.”
“So, how did you know what kind of potion it was?"
Smart Cookie laid her head on the table and sighed. She said something too quietly for a mouse to hear.
“What was that?” said Applejack, at her side.
“I said, ‘the Chancellor told me,’ alright?” She groaned and massaged her temples. “Chancellor Puddinghead called me before a council of elders meeting, and told me how fortunate I was that I could serve the earth pony tribe, and that I had been volunteered to seek out a new land. She gave me the potion, and...well...I drank it. She must have given me the wrong one.” She raised herself up with her front hooves on the table. “I should have known better than to trust that insufferable — empty-headed — self-important — moron! “
“Hey!” said Pinkie onstage, her hooves on her hips.
“She’s not talkin’ about you, Pinkie,” said Applejack.
“I’m afraid you’re probably right, madam,” said Eureka, peering into the vial on the table. “Instead of a teleportation potion, it’s a weak time potion. It looks like all it does is send you — what would you say, Miss Sparkle, eight seconds? Eight-and-a-half?”
“Almost nine, I’d say.”
“Right, it sends you about nine seconds into the past, as Miss Pie has demonstrated. Effectively pulling you out of natural time.” He saw Smart Cookie’s deep frown and swallowed hard. “Again, I am truly —”
“DON’T say it, unicorn.” The secretary rather skillfully spoke this last word as if it were synonymous with “troll,” “diamond dog,” or “skunk.” Eureka twiddled his front hooves. Twilight ascended the apron to join the pink one.
“Pinkie, don’t you realize how dangerous that was? Why in the world would you drink that potion?”
“Because I dared myself, silly!”
“But...how did you know to drink it?”
“I don’t know. How did you know where to find the time spell in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing?”
“Because I...told myself. Oh.” Twilight felt a momentary wave of dizziness, half attributed to confusion, half to sleep deprivation.
“Which is why short-distance time travel is not recommended,” said Eureka. “Too many ontological paradoxes for my taste.”
Applejack laid a hoof gently on Smart Cookie’s back.
“If Chancellor Puddin’head was such a moron, why did you drink the potion?”
Smart Cookie gave her a flicker of a smirk, then sat back on her haunches and closed her eyes.
“Because I wanted to believe that there was an escape, a way out of the frozen waste our country had become. You have to understand, we were at the end of our rope. The crops all died. Ponies could not venture far from their homes for fear of succumbing to frostbite and worse. Every day was misery, and the farmers became terrified of an invasion from the non-earthers, looking for hidden food. We don’t know where the blizzard came from, or why it plagued us for so long. Despite what the Chancellor thought, I knew it could not be the pegasi; even they’re not capable of such destruction. It was like our home was...cursed.”
Twilight bit her lip until it hurt. The single word windigos sat on her tongue as heavily as a cannonball. She found herself in awe of the potential power she possessed at that moment. With one word, one explanation, she could ease pain and misery, bring enlightenment, and save lives. Yet, even as she wore fatigue like an overcoat, her rational mind clamped her jaw firmly shut, though it pained her to do so.
“I...just wanted to leave that place so desperately,” said Smart Cookie, wringing a paper napkin.
“Aw, don’t feel bad,” said Applejack, “I’m sure anypony woulda done the same in your place.”
Smart Cookie simply nodded, without looking up.
In the quiet that followed, the big clock chimed eleven times. Fluttershy yawned and stretched her wings, which caused Rainbow Dash to do the same. Even Pinkie felt the lateness of the hour; she laid down on her belly for the first time in hours. Gummy planted himself on her back when no one was looking, and fell asleep, his pointy festive hat askew.
“The good news is,” said Eureka, “I can probably fix the grappler.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” growled Bravo, forelegs still folded across his broad cream chest.
“I just need to replace the ruby that generates its power.”
Rarity knew her cue. She donned her glasses and levitated the fractured ruby pieces in front of her, rotating them slowly.
“Ohhh, this might be tricky,” she said. “Rubies with this kind of saturation and clarity are rare around Ponyville. But I’d wager my finest chapeau that I could find something like this in the Everfree. When it's light again, of course."
“The Everfree Forest?” Eureka grinned at his fellow unicorn. “I’ve read about that place. Um...is it entirely safe in this century?”
“It’s not without its complications, to be sure. But I think I know just where to look.”
“I’d better go with you,” said Eureka. Just as he said that, he became acutely aware of two things about Rarity. First, that she stood quite close to him just then, and second, that she measured rather high on the beauty scale. “I mean,” he stammered, “if that’s okay with you.”
“Heh, he stole Fluttershy’s line,” said Rainbow, nudging Bravo Zulu, who didn’t get it.
“Ooh ooh ohh, me too, me too!” chirped Pinkie.
“Of course!” said Eureka, turning to her, thankful for a chance to disengage from Rarity’s so-very-blue eyes. “That’ll give me a chance to get to know all about the famous Pinkie Pie!”
“Maybe you oughta go, too, Twi,” said Applejack, absently tossing the last of the party’s trash into the bin that Rainbow held. “If they’re goin’ into that forest, they might need some of yer magic.”
Twilight snapped her head back up, breaching the surface of consciousness.
“Huh? Oh, no, I don’t think I should. In fact, I think I’ll just stay here tonight.”
“You’re gonna sleep here? In town hall?” asked Rainbow, deftly catching party favors in the bin from across the room.
“I don’t think I should leave. I don’t want to see what 1219 looks like.”
“It’s really not that different from —”
Twilight clapped her hooves over her ears.
“La, la, la, la, la, la, la! Stop talking! No spoilers! Look, I’ll be fine. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so no one’s going to be here. The mayor won’t come in to work until Monday. I’ll just sleep up here.”
“At least let me bring you a pillow and a blanket,” said Rarity, with a touch of concern. “You can’t just sleep on that dirty stage!” Twilight gave her a sleepy smile.
“Thanks, Rarity.”
“Back in three shakes!” she sang, and trotted out the front door.
Fluttershy would never believe it was possible, but for over ten minutes, she’d forgotten that an eight-foot dragon sat near her, and she jumped when he spoke.
“Maybe I should stay here, too. I don’t suppose ponies in 1219 are accustomed to dragons walking around town.”
“Well, they’re used to one dragon,” giggled Fluttershy, “but he’s a lot smaller than you.”
Rhindle forced a toothy smile, then slumped against the wall, which shook a bit.
“But you don’t have to stay here,” she said, amazed at what was coming out of her mouth. “You could come home with me.
Rainbow Dash zipped above her airspace.
“Are you sure about that?” she asked, eyeing Rhindle dubiously.
"Of course!” said Fluttershy, still wondering who was using her vocal cords. “It’s outside of town, and very quiet. No one will even know he’s there.” She patted Rhindle’s curled tail. “What do you say? I’ll make us some hot cocoa.”
Rhindle tapped a talon on the floor. Finally he asked:
“Have they discovered...marshmallows by 1219?”
Smart Cookie turned to Applejack, “Is there a reputable ordinary or tavern in town?”
“You mean like a hotel? I wouldn’t dream of it! Why don’t you stay with my family down at Sweet Apple Acres? They’d be plumb thrilled to meet ya.”
“‘Sweet Apple Acres’? As in, a farm?”
Applejack took a breath to ask her what was wrong with living on a farm when the blue pony in the plumed cap turned to her. Smart Cookie held the farmer by the shoulders, her icy countenance melting into a hopeful smile.
“Yes. Yes, thank you, Applejack. That sounds splendid.”
Rarity returned as promptly as she had promised, levitating a satin pillow and a folded purple comforter with little blue flowers onto the stage next to a drowsy purple unicorn.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Twilight felt obliged to say, already spreading the comforter on the stage.
“Nonsense,” said Rarity, fluffing up the pillow in a blue aura. “No friend of mine is going to rough it in a drafty public building without enjoying the comforts of home.”
Rarity magically tucked her friend into her impromptu bedding. Twilight allowed herself to feel like a filly again. She was too tired to care about acting like a grown mare, and she practically purred at the prospect of impending sleep. At least I can stop worrying about the future, she thought, I’m already here!
"You’re such a good friend, Rarity.”
“So are you, Twilight. Now get some rest.”
“Mmm, this pillow is so soft,” murmured Twilight, her eyelids drooping.
“I made it myself.” This came as no surprise to Twilight.
“This comforter is cute,” she sighed. “Did you make it too? It’s a nice pattern.”
“Oh that? I just made it from leftover fabric. It’s the same pattern I used for the bridesmaid dress I made Fluttershy for Shining Armor’s wedding.”
“Oh, okay,” smiled Twilight, her head sinking blissfully into the pillow.
Rainbow flapped next to her great-grandson. She rubbed the back of her neck.
“So, erm, do you want to, y’know, stay at my house? If that’s not too weird?”
Bravo snorted.
“I’m guessing there aren’t many five-star hotels in Ponyville, huh?”
“Nope. I live in a cloudhouse. It’s, I dunno, comfy, I guess. I mean, if you wanna just find a —”
“Fine.” He peeled off the name badge that Pinkie stuck to his side, which read: "Hello, My name Is BRAVO ZOOLOO And I'm From The Year 1329."
“What?”
“I said, fine.”
“Okay. Um. Cool. Awesome. So...is it safe to just leave the wings here?”
“Yeah, they're not going anywhere.” The truth was, Bravo felt soreness from his tail to his ears. He felt every single year of his distinguished career at once. He was in no shape for any more heavy lifting.
Applejack softly nudged Pinkie’s shoulder.
“C’mon, party girl, Smart Cookie an’ I’ll walk you home.”
Pinkie’s eyes fluttered open. She yawned, set snoring Gummy on top of her head, and stretched her legs.
“But I haven’t given out any of the prizes yet. Oh well.” She looked over the room and smiled contentedly. All things considered, it was another successful party. The whole town came out, had a great time. Her guests of honor are all awesomely amazing. One for the books, really.
Twilight catapulted upright, her eyes as big as the discarded paper plates.
“Shining Armor got MARRIED?”