Chapter 11:
Ignorance Isn’t Bliss
Swish! Swish! Swish!
I stood alone with my rapier inside a small forest grove a few days later. The noonday sun filtered down through the tall trees, creating elongated shadows that shifted back and forth with the wind. My mane was tied back in a ponytail, my coat was matted with sweat, and my breathing was labored as I rent the air with my new blade.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
I’d had to modify my form and techniques to accommodate being on four legs. Most of it had transitioned easily enough, the hardest part was maintaining my telekinetic hold on the sword while maintaining my hoofwork. There was also the weirdness of feeling the weapon in its entirety, but the increased level of control had led me to thinking up a few new moves.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
I imagined I was surrounded on all sides by shadowy, chimaeric monstrosities. They were as varied as they were horrendous, but they all had one thing in common—their foul, mismatched eyes leered at me with cruelty and malice. They stepped into the grove and closed in on me, preparing to curse me and banish me to another dimension. I brought up my weapon in a mocking salute.
“RAAAAAGH!” I dashed forward and swung with all my might. My rapier whistled as I became a frenzied blur of wrath and steel, jabbing, dodging, slashing, ducking and weaving all around the grove. I brought my blade high and decapitated one, then spun about and cut the legs off another before either of them could react. I deflected a swipe of one’s claws, then rolled underneath and impaled him from below.
My body moved with fluid grace as I continued my dance. Another leapt down from the trees, his open maw large enough to swallow me whole. I swiveled about to stare down his gullet, then fired my rapier like an ornate arrow. It disappeared down his throat and pierced through his innards with a sickening squelch, then burst out his body in a sticky mess of black. The disemboweled corpse landed next to me without a sound, and I recalled my weapon to face my last remaining foe. He was the biggest of them all, and we met eyes for a moment before he fired a blast of magic meant to turn my mind to mush.
I leapt out of the way and lowered my horn, which hummed loudly inside its metal sheath. My rapier began to spin, first slowly, then faster and faster until it resembled a helicopter’s blade. When I deemed it fast enough I flung the deadly whirlwind at my foe, watching with grim satisfaction as his eyes filled with panic. His screams were music to my ears as his wispy body was shredded to bite-sized bits and the tatters were scattered to the wind.
And then I was alone. The silence pressed in on me for a few seconds, the only sound being the dull pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. I focused on my breathing and stared at my rapier, which had gotten caught over in a thick bramble of bushes. My little pretend battle had helped some, but the hollow weight in my chest was still there, a constant reminder of what I’d lost and might never get back.
I cursed. What good was any kind of skill with a pointed piece of metal? I had motivation, I had purpose, but without any power or resources, it all accounted for little more than dust in the wind. Was I doomed to live on Earth for the rest of my life? Would I never get the chance to set things right? Would I sit back and curse my helplessness, watching as a group of strangers masqueraded as my friends and loved ones?
“Is there really any point at all?” I asked aloud.
“Of course there is,” a strange voice replied.
I jumped. I summoned my rapier to me and whirled around in a flash. My body raced with adrenaline as I searched for the speaker.
“Who’s there?!”
A yellow pegasus with a pink mane and tail stepped out from behind a bush. Her soft, teal eyes were blank, but still held an inner strength I knew all too well.
“It gets frustrating just sitting around and doing nothing, doesn’t it?” she said. “It makes you edgy and angry, and then you have to go off somewhere to blow off some steam.”
“A—Fluttershy!” I lowered my rapier. “Sorry! I didn’t know you were out here.”
Fluttershy giggled. “Dash calls me ‘Yellow Quiet’ for a reason.”
I’d seen Fluttershy a few times since arriving on the farm, but hadn’t made any effort to speak with her. I knew she didn’t have any idea how close we once were, and I’d no desire to break the news. She probably didn’t know the first thing about singing anymore, let alone how to go about teaching others.
I drug a hoof on the ground. “I, uh… thought your place was closer to the field.”
A squirrel hopped onto Fluttershy’s shoulder from a nearby tree. “It is, but I like going on walks,” she said. “It helps clear my mind, get my bearings, and sometimes my animal friends show me where to find useful things.”
I watched the squirrel, which was now chittering and pointing at a mossy log. “Like what?”
Fluttershy walked over to the log and picked a few mushrooms off of it. “Edible things, mostly. Although sometimes... I like to think that they’re helping me find pieces of my old self, as well.”
I laughed nervously. “Y-yeah, that’d be a nice thing to get back, wouldn’t it?”
“Hmm.” Fluttershy met my eyes and winked. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
I felt a chill. “You…”
Fluttershy smiled. “Rarity did a good job on your horn. I can’t even tell that there’s something over it.”
“Who told you?” I blurted.
“I overheard Dash and Jack by accident,” Fluttershy said. “My cat climbed up into the barn’s hayloft and I was trying to get her down, then they came in and started talking about what you can do.”
I groaned and rubbed my temples. I knew this wasn’t going to be kept a secret for very long, but I didn’t think it’d get leaked after only a day!
“Do they know that you heard?” I asked.
Fluttershy shook her head. “I stayed quiet until they were gone. You don’t need to worry, though. Your secret is safe with me.”
I threw up my hooves. “Of course it’s safe with you! You’re A—Fluttershy! The problem is that if you overheard, there’s a chance that others might have, too! The whole point of keeping this a secret was to prevent Twilight from hearing about this! That’s not going to happen with those two blabbing it wherever they like!”
Fluttershy flinched at my outburst, but quickly recovered and scratched her chin. “I can talk to them to make sure that they be more careful from now on. I know Twilight would’ve confronted you if she’d heard somehow, so I don’t think she’s found out yet.”
I hung my head. “I really hate all of this. The secrecy, the hiding, all the difficult choices I’ve forced on all of you. I never meant to be the cause of so many problems.”
Fluttershy came over and sat down beside me. “Don’t blame yourself. You’re just trying to give us back what we’ve lost.”
“But I can’t!” I said with a stomp of my hoof. “I can’t help you! I can’t help Rarity! I can’t help any of the other ponies here! I’m nothing but a useless, scared little filly!”
“You’re not—”
“I am!” I said. “I can’t do what I think is right! I don’t know what we should do! I want to be able to understand the situation and figure things out, but there’s too much at stake here to just take a blind chance! I have to be patient and act when the time is right, but it’s so hard to do, and in the meantime I’m driving myself nuts trying to guess how things are going to go!”
Fluttershy was giving me an odd look. “Rarity was right. You really do sound like Twilight.”
“I know!” I crossed my hooves and pouted. “She has to know that we never had very many options to begin with, and our pickings are getting slimmer and slimmer as time goes on! She has to know that we can’t wait around on this farm forever! We’re going to run out of supplies, space, morale, ideas, or all of the above. Something has to give, and SOON, or we’re gonna find ourselves in a situation we DON’T want to be in!”
“Breathe.” Fluttershy began rubbing my back. “In through the nose, out through the mouth. Nice and slow.”
I almost shook her off. I probably would have if it’d been anyone else. The flame fueling my conniptions was a weak thing, and I wanted to stoke it so I could keep going with my swordplay. It’s pretty much impossible to escape from Kindness Incarnate, though, esepcially when she’s concerned for your well-being. I realized with a silent curse that I’d gotten caught in her 'trap,' so I reluctantly gave in and allowed the toxic emotions to ebb away.
“You strike me as someone who doesn’t adapt well to change, Sweetie Belle,” Fluttershy said after a time. “I imagine the last few weeks have been very hard on you because of that. I know that you’ve had your friends and family to help you, but still, I get the sense that you feel very lost.”
"Hmph." I slumped down on the grass. “I imagine every single pony that’s shown up in the last few days feels the same way.”
“I don’t get the same feeling from any of the others that I get from you.” Fluttershy brushed a twig away and laid down beside me. “The others are all confused and frustrated, yes, but they’re also happy and excited that they’re with other ponies. With you, I get the impression that it’s the opposite.”
“It’s no big deal,” I said unconvincingly. “I'm just an introvert. Never did like crowds.”
“We both know there’s more to it than that.” Fluttershy gestured to my rapier. “You wouldn’t be screaming and working yourself into a frenzy if you just needed some alone time.”
I felt my cheeks burn. “T-that’s, well...”
“It’s okay to be angry,” Fluttershy said gently. “We’ve been betrayed. We’ve been hurt. We’ve been exiled and ridiculed, and everything we’ve known has been called into question. But holding onto that anger is only going to poison you in the long run. We can all help you deal with it, but we can't do anything if you won't let us."
I didn’t look up at her. I couldn’t. I knew what lay in those kind, concerned eyes, and it wasn’t something I had the strength or desire to resist. There was a time where I wouldn’t have even hesitated, but as much as she looked the same, talked the same, even smelled the same, this was not my Auntie Fluttershy. This was a stranger wearing her skin, and she didn’t deserve to have my issues dumped on her.
I undid my ponytail and let my mane fall back into its usual position. “You don’t have any idea who I am. I may as well be someone off the street to you. Heck, I don’t know who you are anymore, either.”
Fluttershy bowed her head. “It’s true I don’t remember, and I’ll admit I’m not sure if that’s something I want or not, but maybe you can tell me. Am I really so different from who I used to be?”
I snorted. “Hardly. You’ve barely changed at all.“
Fluttershy put a wing around me. “And is this the kind of thing Old Fluttershy would do if she saw you were feeling down?”
I giggled. “Only sooner.”
Fluttershy laughed as well. “I wasn’t sure if you’d object. I know you’re older than you look, after all.”
I shook my head. “I’m never too old for a wing hug from you.”
Fluttershy smiled, then stared off into the forest with unfocused eyes. “Maybe it’s an instinctual thing, or maybe it’s something left over from who I used to be, but when I look at you, a sad little filly with the weight of the world on her shoulders, I want to do what I can to make you feel better. I’m sorry I can’t be who you want, but maybe with time, I can be the next best thing.”
It was the same issue I had with everypony else. I kept thinking they were the same, that they had their memories back and I could talk about anything with them, but then they’d give me that damn blank look and I’d feel like an utter fool. It wasn’t their fault by any means and I knew it would get better with time, but I was having trouble keeping my patience. And the more ponies I let back into my life at once, the harder it was going to be for me.
But considering what I stood to gain with Fluttershy...
I closed my eyes and leaned against her. “I’m okay with that.”
***
The farm was a zoo.
From ponies I knew to ones I’d never seen before, the entire homestead was a cacophony of clamor thanks to crowds composed of my colorful cursed kindred. I’d talked to several in the past few days, and from what I could tell the government was trying to contain the news that ponies were real and here on Earth. About half I’d talked to said they’d almost been captured by the police, and Babs, who’d been with me at the time, had wasted no time in saying, “I told you so.”
So it looked like we’d dodged a bullet there. I now didn’t want to have anything to do with the government if I could help it, and everyone I spoke to seemed to share that sentiment. However, I couldn’t help but worry that these escaped ponies were now going to attract unwanted attention to us. Most insisted that they’d found ways of making sure they weren’t followed, but it still lurked in the back of my mind.
I now sat beside Rarity in the barn helping to sew pillows and blankets. This was a considerable challenge for me as I’d never been good at sewing in either life, and it was only exacerbated by having to manipulate the needle with magic. Rarity was a natural at it, unsurprisingly, but I was having issues. Meanwhile, Shmangie was standing in the middle of the barn directing the setup of more cots. Housing and sleeping arrangements had become a complete mess after the first day, so she’d stepped up to try and restore some semblance of order.
“Just set them in straight lines like—no, not like that!” Shmangie went over to one of her helpers, a gray pegasus with mismatched eyes. “Just straight up and down, ten by ten. Remember we’re trying to get the most out of what space we have.”
Derpy scowled at the crooked cot. “I thought it was straight!”
Shmangie chuckled. “Not quite.”
I tried not to laugh myself as I watched from afar. “Some things never change.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, dear,” Rarity replied from beside me. She and I were sitting on a blanket in the corner. Beside us was a large pile of dozens of finished pillows and blankets. Despite how many we had, though, we were still in short supply.
A mauve pegasus wearing a pair of bulging saddlebags walked into the barn. She immediately made a beeline for us.
“Hey,” the newcomer said. “This is all I could find. Where do you want ‘em?”
“Hmm?” Rarity looked up. “Ah, Cloud Kicker. Just set the bolts over there, thank you. And could you possibly help Derpy with the cots before you go?”
“Sure thing,” Cloud Kicker said. She pulled several bolts of fabric out of her bags, then went over to assist Shmangie and Derpy.
I frowned at the meager pile. “That’s nowhere near enough.”
“I know,” Rarity said as she resumed her work. “Angie’s making another trip to the store later. I’ll ask her to pick up some more cloth while she's there.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s the third trip today. Are we really running out of things that fast?”
“It’s mostly little things that keeping popping up here and there.” Rarity finished her pillow and immediately started on another. “We thought we were prepared, but we didn’t expect to have so many ponies so fast.”
I sighed and looked out the door at all the ponies milling about the homestead. “To be fair, I don’t think any of us predicted Discord would be so… thorough.”
“It’s quite a shock,” Rarity agreed grimly. “It makes me wonder if there are any ponies left at all in Equestria.”
I considered that. Could that have been Discord’s plan all along? Did he just pretend that he was only banishing select individuals, and had actually removed every single pony from Equestria? It certainly seemed like overkill, but who said that he wanted any subjects in the first place? Maybe he just wanted the land.
“I’m… not sure,” I said slowly, “but Discord strikes me as the type who likes to rub it in, you know? Someone that would want at least a few others around just for the sake of gloating over them. He wouldn’t be able to do that if he got rid of everypony.”
Rarity tapped her chin. “But then what’s he doing to the ones he didn’t banish?”
I shuddered. “I don’t want to know.”
“Don’t want to know about what?”
We both looked up to see that Shmangie coming over with a folding chair. She sat down beside us and pulled out a sewing kit of her own.
“The reasons for our unanticipated turnout,” I said. “It stinks, but we’ve got enough problems as it is without adding more to them.”
“Tell me about it,” Shmangie said. “If it’s not one thing, it’s—”
She stopped as she saw the tiny pile of bolts.
“Please don’t tell me that’s all the cloth that’s left,” she said.
“Unfortunately,” Rarity said.
Shmangie exhaled out her nose. “How are you doing for other sewing materials?”
Rarity thought for a moment. “I’m good on needles, but I’m running low on thread.”
Shmangie nodded. “Put it on the list, then. Hopefully the stores around here won’t think it’s too odd that one person keeps buying so many random things in bulk.”
“How exactly are you paying for all this?” I asked.
Shmangie didn’t look at me. “How do you think?”
I stiffened. “You’re not using—”
“—I’m not going to sit by and do nothing while these ponies live in destitution.” Shmangie threaded a needle and set to work. “If you want to stay here, then this place is going to need a lot more work. A lot.”
Shmangie and I had been staying at a hotel until things at the farm got sorted out. It’d mostly been her idea, although I hadn’t really argued. It was great to be with Rarity and all the other ponies, but the simple truth was that there just wasn’t enough of well… anything to go around. We’d extended the invitation to Babs and Scootaloo, but both of them had wanted to stay with their families.
As for Apple Bloom, well… I’ll get to her in a little bit.
“At least tell me that you’ve asked around to see if anyone else can chip in,” I said.
Shmangie sat up straighter in her chair. “Most everyone I’ve talked to is scraping the bottom of the barrel as it is. More than a few of them spent everything they had just to get here.”
Rarity winced.
Shmangie saw and immediately gave her an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way! I probably would’ve done the same thing in your situation.”
Rarity stared at her pillow with dim eyes. “I know I shouldn't feel bad about it, but I just... find it ironic that the Element of Generosity has nothing left to give, that’s all.”
“How can you say that?” My voice cracked with alarm. “Just because you can’t buy things doesn’t mean that you haven’t been generous in other ways. Look at what you’ve done! Look at what you’ve been doing! You’ve been donating your talents to make all kinds of useful things ever since we got here!”
Rarity resumed sewing. “Too bad my talents that are dependent on having materials, which we keep running out of.”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s not—”
“Drop it, Shmage.” Shmangie’s voice was calm and firm. “Don’t rub salt in an open wound.”
Normally I would’ve obeyed, but this time I was having none of it. I looked over to make sure Cloud Kicker and Derpy were distracted, then lowered my voice to a terse whisper.
“No. This isn’t the way to help. Exhausting your savings to buy a few more days worth of supplies isn’t going to solve the simple truth. We all know that this farm can’t sustain this many ponies for any extended period of time.”
Shmangie stopped sewing. Her eyes flickered to Rarity, who didn’t seem perturbed by what I’d said. She then turned and spoke in a sharp tone.
“I haven’t gotten to where I am in life by being fiscally irresponsible, so I’ll thank you to let me handle my own finances. And I sure hope you didn’t just come to that conclusion. You’d have to be blind not to see the problems with staying here.”
That rebuke stung, but I tried not to show it. “It’s been hard getting my head around everything,” I said. “I didn’t want to pass judgment until I saw everything this place had to offer.”
“There isn’t much to see, dear,” Rarity said. “Everyone knows that we’re overcrowded and short on supplies. Most are staying because they either don’t have anywhere else to go, or are hoping we have some sort of plan.”
I facehooved. “We should probably come up with one, then.”
“I think Dash already has,” Shmangie said.
Rarity and I turned to her. “Oh?”
Shmangie pushed her hair out of her face. “I was talking to Twilight earlier about ideas to raise money when Dash burst in through the door and started yammering about figuring something out. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but Twilight apparently did. It was clear they wanted to talk in private, so I came out here to work.”
I leaned forward. “Did you hear anything before you left?”
Shmangie rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m not about to eavesdrop when I feel enough like an outsider as it is.”
“Whyever would you feel like an outsider?” Rarity motioned to the neatly set up rows of cots. “You’re practically a godsend!”
“It probably has something to do with these.” Shmangie held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Some of these ponies have had close shaves in the last weeks, and their horror stories have started to make the others... skittish of humans.”
I groaned. “That was bad, and you should feel bad.”
Shmangie snickered. “What? It’s accurate.”
“Everyone is... nervous around strangers at first,” I said. “They’ll come around once they get to know you. They’ll come around even faster once they realize you’re related to me!”
“And me, by proxy,” Rarity added.
Shmangie lowered her eyes. She fiddled with her needle and thread for a little while, her hands twisting back and forth in a strange pattern. Finally, she spoke in a quiet, bitter voice. “But that’s not really true, now is it?”
I blinked. “Huh?”
Shmangie let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not biologically related to you anymore, Shmage. Twilight told me she’d run tests on her DNA when all this started, and she found that it's completely changed. It’s obviously the same for everyone else, so in terms of genetics, you and I have no more in common than dogs do with cats.”
Rarity’s needle fell to the ground as she gasped.
My reaction was different. Yeah, I was surprised, but not for the reasons you’d think. If I’d had better sense, I would’ve kept my mouth shut and told her why that didn’t matter to me. She might’ve gone on about why she was worried about it, but my insistence would make her see that it really didn’t. Rarity would’ve backed me up, and the bond between the three of us would’ve been strengthened because of it.
Too bad I’m not known for having good common sense.
“Dammit,” I said. “I was hoping neither of you would figure that out.”
Both my sisters turned to me with wide eyes.
“WHAT?!”
Yeah, I knew. Or suspected, rather. It’d first crossed my mind when my eyes had changed color, but the longer things had gone on, the more obvious it’d become. I’d been confused for a while on how I felt about it, but Rarity had reminded me on the driveway that our families aren’t only dictated by biology. My heart told me loud and clear who Shmangie was to me, and it also said I was an idiot for questioning that at all.
“Why would you keep such a thing from her?” Rarity demanded.
I shrugged. “Because it doesn’t change anything.”
“That’s—” Shmangie hesitated, but then scowled and shook her head. “No, that doesn’t excuse it. I still had a right to know!”
“Why?” I asked. “So you could freak out over nothing? So you’d question something that should never be questioned?”
Shmangie swatted me with her pillow. “Because it involved our family! Because it involved me! Because we’ve never kept secrets from each other in our entire lives! How would you like it if I kept something this big from you?”
I felt my temper rise. “Look, there wasn’t any point in making you worry about something I wasn’t even sure about in the first place! And besides, I know you’d have a good reason for keeping anything from me! Where's my benefit of the doubt, huh?”
“You just said your reason was that you didn’t think it changed anything.” Rarity narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps you meant well, but you had no right to keep her ignorant. If you adopted a child, would you use the same rationale to not tell them about their birth parents?”
Shmangie ran her hand down her face. “Seriously, Shmage! What is it with you and keeping secrets lately? Every time I turn around you’re either trying to do something yourself, or not telling me everything! What happened to your promise that you were going to work on trusting others?”
“You think I’m not trying?!” I said. “It’s hard! I don’t like being the bearer of bad news! I thought I was doing you a favor!”
“So you just kept it to yourself and let it eat at you like a parasite.” Shmangie crossed her arms. “What a wonderful alternative.”
“You can’t always assume you know how others are going to react to the things you tell them,” Rarity said. “All you’re going to do is drive yourself batty trying to think of what-if scenarios.”
Remember how I’d said that I’d rather face Discord than face double big sister rage? Yeah. I suppose you could argue that it wasn’t fair for them to be ganging up on me like this, but such things are inevitable in groups of three.
“But what if I want to protect someone?” I poked Shmangie’s shin for emphasis. “What if I know that revealing the truth is only going to cause problems? What if I—”
“Okay, just stop.” Shmangie put away her sewing kit and got up. “I’m not gonna to sit here and listen to your half-hearted excuses. I’m going to go help Jack take inventory. Come find me when you’ve pulled your head out of your ass.”
“I wasn’t trying to be a jerk!” I said as she picked up the chair. “I just didn’t want to hurt you!”
Shmangie shot me an icy glare as she left. “Good job on that one.”
I let out a frustrated growl. I didn’t want things to end like that, but I didn’t know what to say. I’d thought I was doing the right thing, that this was something better left unmentioned. Was a lie of omission really so bad if it made everyone happy?
“You’ve got some thinking to do,” Rarity said as she got to her hooves. “I think I’ll leave you to it.”
“Wait, you’re going, too?!” I looked at the unsewn bolts of cloth. “But what about the pillows?”
Rarity glanced at the tiny pile. “You can handle the rest. Perhaps you should consider it an act of penance, hmm?”
My ears drooped. “You’re angry too, aren’t you.”
“Oh no, I’m not angry...” Rarity walked away. “I’m disappointed.”
Ergh, leave it to Rarity to twist the knife. Again, I didn’t think I should let her have the last word on this, but I was too worked up to say anything meaningful. I watched her go in silence, and then suddenly realized with a jolt that I was more alone than I’d been in weeks.
The familiar pangs of loneliness began to set in. I almost started crying, but then I growled and punched the pillow I was working on. I threw myself into the sewing to try and escape my feelings, and after a little while, my senses gradually tuned out the outside world.
A few hours went by without incident. Cloud Kicker and Derpy finished setting up the new cots, put what pillows and blankets I’d finished beside them, then left to do other things. I didn’t even realize they’d gone. About half a dozen other ponies came in and out while I worked, but nopony paid me any mind. The barn was where everyone slept, after all, so nopony lingered for long in the daytime unless they wanted to take a nap.
My mood went through the usual motions of denial, anger, depression, and finally just a bland melancholy that was like a trance. I imagined scenario after scenario of how I could’ve handled things better, but all that did was make me realize that I really was in the wrong. There was an argument to be made for extenuating circumstances, maybe, but considering how close Shmangie and I were, it didn’t really fly. The bottom line was that I’d withheld important information from her, for unacceptable reasons, and that was a big no-no.
I suddenly wished I could talk to the Crusaders. They were all around on the farm somewhere, but we’d kinda had enough of each other after being stuck together for two weeks. We were still friends, of course, we just needed some space for a while. Scootaloo was probably with Dash somewhere, I last saw Babs helping Mac with something, and Apple Bloom...
Ugh, Apple Bloom. Yes, I was still mad at her. How could I not be? She’d tried to do something terrible. It obviously wasn’t premeditated, but the whole thing still made my stomach tie itself in knots. We all have ways of dealing with extreme situations, but never in a million years would I have expected that Apple Bloom's was to flat-out break. We’d been avoiding each other for the past few days, but a confrontation was inevitable, and we both knew it. After all, one does not simply throw away a twenty-five-year-old friendship.
I was actually trying to figure out what the heck I was gonna say to her when I was interrupted by one of the most unlikely individuals imaginable.
“Oy!” a strange voice said from the door. “Are any of these cots open?”
I looked up. Standing there was a dull yellow pegasus with a monochrome mane and tail. She was clothed in a military uniform that covered her down to her fetlocks, complete with holes for her wings and Australian flags sewn over her cutie marks. A heavy-looking duffle bag covered in rips and tears rested on her back.
My jaw dropped. “Daring… Do?”
“Eh, once upon a time.” Daring yawned and spoke again in a smooth, relaxed alto. “Lieutenant Mark Sheffield of the Royal Australian Navy, at your service.”
I struggled to find my voice. “I didn’t think you were…”
“What, real?” Daring smirked. “Come on. Didn’t you see Daring Don’t?”
The realization struck me like a hammerblow. “No way. That actually happened?!”
Daring chuckled. “Either that or I keep having dreams about giant golden rings for some other reason.”
My heart was racing. I’d absolutely loved the Daring Do series back in Equestria! I’d spent hours pretending I was going on awesome adventures with her! To have her here, in the flesh and looking like she’d just tangled with Ahuizotl himself?!
“Hello?” Daring said loudly. “Earth to Sweetie Belle! Anyone home?”
Oh, dear Celestia, she knew my name. I was going to keel over at this rate. “U-um, sorry! What’d you say?”
Daring shook her head. “It’s so easy to find bronies now. Makes me wish it was this easy when I was a human. I asked you what the deal with the cots was before you went all googly-eyed.”
The brony comment almost made me laugh. I’d never actually cared much for Daring Do in the show, actually, but I wasn’t about to explain that. I instead motioned to the one of the cots nearest to me and tried to keep my voice from cracking. “A-any of the cots on the ends here are u-up for grabs. Feel free to p-pick one.”
“Gotcha.” Daring limped over to the to the one I’d indicated. She tossed her bag down beside it and laid down with a pained grunt.
I pursed my lips. “Are... you okay?”
“I’ve seen better days.” Daring gingerly rubbed her left shoulder. She eyed the stack of pillows next to me. “I will love you forever if I can have another one of those.”
I blinked. “One of—oh! Yeah, sure.” Technically it was supposed to be only one per cot, but I was willing to make an exception for Daring-freaking-Do. I floated one over to her cot. “What happened? Did you get into a fight or something? Was it the government?”
Daring didn’t reply. Her eyes were still on the extra pillow I’d given her.
I wrinkled my brow. “Uh, Daring?”
“You... just did magic.” Her eyebrows were raised as she looked up at me.
“Uh, yeah?” I tapped my horn. “Unicorns are known to do that. What, have you... not...”
Annnnnnd there it was again. This time was about as cringe-worthy as it got, though—Daring Do, legendary hero and discoverer of countless magical artifacts reduced to being amazed by telekinesis. It took a considerable chunk of willpower not to rip the sheath off my horn and memory-zap the crap out of her.
Daring cocked her head. “Have I not what?”
My excitement bled away. My eyes turned distant and I turned my attention back to the pillow I’d been sewing. “Never mind. You probably just didn’t see anypony outside doing it. I’d recommend getting used to it.”
Daring laughed. “‘Anypony’? Wow, you’ve gone full-on native, haven’t you?”
I bit my lip, hard. “I... suppose I have. What about you, though, Miss Royal Australian Navy? Where were you when all this started?”
Daring picked up the pillow and used it to prop up her left-hind leg. “Stationed on the HMAS Brisbane in the middle of the bloody Indian Ocean, that’s where. Had quite the time getting my feathery arse out.”
I paled. “You... were on a military ship?”
Daring met my eyes with a dark look. “Worst. Deployment. Ever.”
I ran over to her. “Tell me what happened! How’d you hide? How’d you get away? Did the government detain you? Why are they withholding news about ponies? Are they—”
“Wow, keep it down, mate!” Daring covered her ears. “Yeesh. Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t have it in me to tell this story a second time. You wanna hear about how I went AWOL? Go talk to Dash. I’ve gotta sleep off this jet lag.”
I almost didn’t listen to her. Something told me this was important, and Daring just might have the answers that I needed. However, a closer inspection of her revealed how ragged she really was. Her coat was matted, her mane and tail were a mess, her feathers were in sore need of a preening, she smelled terrible, and her uniform was stained and torn. I also caught a glimpse of some bandages on her left hind leg and collarbone.
“You’ve really had it rough, haven’t you.” I stepped back and floated over a blanket, which I covered her with. “All right, I’ll go talk to Dash. Do you know where she is?”
Daring rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Said something about getting ready to go somewhere.”
“Huh? Going somewhere?” I repeated. “Why? There’s nowhere to go.”
Daring’s only reply was a gentle snore.
I spent a few more seconds just staring at her, partially out of awe, and partially out of pity. Out of all the ponies that’d come the last few days, she was in by far the worst shape. I seriously doubted the story behind her injuries was a pretty tale, and her appearance alone was going to send rumors flying. We could have a serious case of xenophobia on our hooves if too many others showed up battered or bruised or worse, but what could we really do about it? And now that I thought about it, what were we going to do about medical care and supplies? All it’d take is one sick pony in these cramped quarters, and we could suddenly have a serious epidemic. That sure sounded like fun.
I left Daring and went outside to find Dash. I asked around over the next ten minutes, but nopony had seen her recently enough that I was able to track her down. I couldn’t find Rarity or Twilight, either. Jack was with Shmangie, Pinkie was practically impossible to find as it was, Mac and Shining were nowhere to be found, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Fluttershy was mysteriously absent, as well.
Something was afoot. I didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark, and while the irony of that wasn’t lost on me, it didn’t make me feel any better. The ‘big ponies’ were off doing something important, and I wanted to help. At first I was worried that this was their way of getting back at me for repeatedly keeping secrets of my own, but then I reminded myself that the world in fact didn’t revolve around me. Not like I knew what I'd be able to do, anyways. I’d done a good job with the satellites, true, but that was both incredibly lucky and a one-time thing. I was pretty much out of tricks, so the only real thing I could do was wait until they came back.
So that's exactly what I did. I sighed and watched the sun slowly descend towards the horizon, hoping that they didn’t take too long.