“She's a what?” asked Dash.
“You're a what?” asked Twilight.
“I'm a what?” asked Pinkie.
“The mortal incarnation of a goddess.” repeated Aphrael, with a firm nod, as if that explained everything.
“No, I'm not.” said Pinkie, firmly. “I'm just a pony.”
“Um...” said Dash, nervously.
“What is it, Dash?” asked Twilight.
“Um... there was one day... Pinkie and I were out chilling by the lake one day... you remember that day with the, um, the invasion of Pinkies?”
Twilight winced, and nodded. She remembered.
“Well, this was... kinda a few minutes before it all went crazy. I was relaxing on the shore, right, so Pinkie decided she wanted to have fun quietly so as not to disturb me...”
“Yes?” asked Pinkie. “And then what happened?”
“You were there, Pinkie.” said Dash. “Um... wait... that was you, right? Not one of those clones?”
“Clones?” asked Aphrael.
“Long story.” said Dash, waving a hoof.
“What was me?” asked Pinkie.
“You swung across, shouting very softly, and jumped into the lake without making a splash.” said Dash. “I mean... you fell slowly. That... didn't seem possible.”
Pinkie considered, and then nodded. “Yep.” she said. “That was me, alright. The one-hundred-percent original Pinkie Pie.”
“Can morta-whatsits of whatsits do that?” asked Dash.
“Yes.” said Aphrael, stepping nonchalantly up onto the air and strolling along a short distance above the ground.
“Whoa nelly!” Applejack reared back and took three rapid steps away from the hovering human.
“So...” said Twilight, in the careful tones of someone who's not going to make a final decision without all the information, “if Pinkie is the mortal incarnation of a goddess, then who's the goddess? It's not Discord, is it?”
“Discord?” asked Aphrael.
“Spirit of chaos and disharmony.” said Twilight. “The one who opened the portal.”
“Oh, him. No, for two reasons. First, Discord's a boy and Pinkie's a girl. They can't be the same person. Secondly, the goddess is Pinkie. Pinkie is Pinkie.”
“Oh my gosh!” said Pinkie, suddenly. She grabbed Twilight by the shoulders, and shook her vigorously. “Do you know what this means, Twilight? Do you know what this means?”
“N-n-n-n-no, P-p-p-p-pinkie, I d-d-d-d-don't.” said Twilight. “C-c-c-c-could you p-p-p-p-please stop shaking me?”
“Oh.” said Pinkie, lowering her hooves. “Right. It means... I'm the doozy!”
“Doozy?” asked Aphrael. “What's a doozy?”
“Ladies,” interrupted Sparhawk, looming suddenly over them atop his horse, “as interesting as this conversation is, I am certain that Queen Ehlana would appreciate meeting your delegation in the very near future. Could you possibly continue walking while you talk?”
* * *
The Great and Powerful Trixie was not all that far away, as the pegasus flies. In this particular case, of course, the pegasus would have to fly over the city of Cimmura in order to pursue a straight line between Trixie and the Elements of Harmony; an activity which would likely cause quite a significant amount of comment from the inhabitants of that city.
As the sun slowly rose (and it was slow, too; Celestia was obviously taking her time raising it this morning) the traffic along the road began to pick up. Trixie noted with some relief that she was meeting a lot of traffic coming towards her, but could see little sign of traffic approaching from her rear; this implied that there was some sort of rest stop up ahead. An inn, at the very least, though the volume of traffic suggested something larger; a town, perhaps, or a small city. Somewhere where she could set up a little magic show, perhaps on some sort of public space, begin to earn a few bits...and hopefully find someone capable of speaking Equestrian.
The reactions of the other travellers to Trixie were not encouraging. A man riding a horse as tall as Princess Celestia had taken one look at her and made a sharp U-turn. A peddler with a cart full of earthenware pots suddenly decided to take a detour through a ploughed field instead of getting close to Trixie; and he kept his hand on a large club and his eyes on Trixie until he was out of sight. A man driving a cart full of barrels had screamed and dived behind the cart, keeping it between him and Trixie all the time.
And either none of them spoke Equestrian, or none of them were willing to speak Equestrian(1). Trixie was rapidly coming to the unwelcome conclusion that she would have to do her act in mime. And she was going to have quite a bit of trouble negotiating a stay at whatever inns they had in this place...
(1) With the possible exception of the first horseman, who hadn't stayed long enough for Trixie to say anything.