//------------------------------// // Prologue: Everything I Ever Wanted To Do... // Story: Pandelirium // by Kwakerjak //------------------------------// Celestia was hardly surprised to find her sister in the Royal Library, surrounded by books, scrolls and arcane codices. Luna had been studying at a fevered pitch ever since the Element of Magic had selected her as its bearer; apparently, the younger alicorn had shared the widespread assumption that that honor would be bestowed upon her more powerful sister, and she was most eager to demonstrate that this had not been a fluke. “Hast thou been so engrossed all day, sister?” Celestia spoke aloud, causing Luna to jump in surprise, nearly upending her carefully constructed stacks of scholarly musings. The younger princess took a few seconds to collect herself before she acknowledged her sibling’s presence. “Sister! I did not notice thine arrival.” “That is manifestly true,” Celestia agreed, “though I suspect that thou wouldst be hard-pressed to notice a brigade of griffons while enraptured by thy studies.” “The Elements of Harmony are worthy of my attention,” Luna replied with mild indignation. “I am convinced that they are not merely magically-imbued ornaments meant to designate ponies who exemplify their respective attributes, but rather artifacts of considerable and heretofore untapped power. If my theory proves correct, they may be of much use to us in the future.” “Be that as it may, I can not help but wonder if thou wouldst not benefit from the occasional amusement.” “I’ll have thee know that my studies provide me with considerable mental stimulation and enjoyment,” Luna said with a glare. “Did I claim otherwise?” Celestia asked rhetorically. “But thou hast never yet considered branching out to other forms of stimulation.” “I presume thou hast an example at the ready?” “Well, nay, but allow me some moments to mull over the quandary, and I shall give thee such an example.” Celestia screwed up her muzzle as she pondered an appropriate answer for her intellectually-minded sister. Soon, she had devised one: “Ah, of course! Thou mayest improve thy creative abilities by envisioning a character with whom thou might interact in thy mind’s eye.” Luna, however, saw through her sister’s attempt to use wordiness to conceal her true motives. “An imaginary friend? Celestia, I am two-and-twenty years old.” Celestia smiled mischievously. “’Tis true that thou art two-and-twenty years of age, but thou hast behaved as a full-grown mare for nineteen of them. Need I remind you that we are alicorns? We have centuries to comport ourselves as adults. Thou wilt not always have the luxury of a life without burdens or cares, and I shall not sit idly by as my sister ignores the opportunities of fillyhood.” Luna scowled at her sister, but she’d seen that smile many times before, and she knew that her best course of action for the moment was to play along with her sister’s whimsy. “Very well. I shall imagine a friend—a tall, white pegasus stallion of few words wearing military regalia.” Celestia smirked. “My dearest sister, thine ‘imaginary’ friend sounds very much like the guard who is currently posted outside the library door.”  “Hmm... why, so he does. I suppose that makes this exercise superfluous, does it not? Well, if there are no further objections, I shall return to—” “Oh, but I do object. Thou hast not created a friend adequate enough to satisfy my conviction that thou needest more frivolity and escapism in thy life. Fortunately, I foresaw this possibility, and I am prepared to assist thee in the creation of a proper companion.”  “My most gracious thanks are in order,” Luna remarked with more than a hint of sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. “What sort of hypothetical pony doth thine expertise recommend?”  “Oh, there is no need for us to limit ourselves to ponies,” Celestia said. “In fact, I believe our friend should be... a draconequus,” the white alicorn stated after a second or two of musing.  This suggestion appeared to pique Luna’s interest, as she finally set down her research and appeared ready to engage in a proper conversation. “A draconequus? I have never heard of such a creature. What manner of beast are they? How do they appear? Are they essentially equine in nature, or have they more in common with dragon-kind?” “In truth, I do not know, for I have just invented the word,” Celestia replied matter-of-factly. After further consideration, the princess qualified her initial idea. “He could be a chimera of some sort—perhaps he is a shapeshifter.” “He?” Luna asked, even more confused than ever. “Yes, I think our friend should be male,” Celestia answered. “But soft! Thou art being deprived of a chance to contribute by my giddiness. I think thou shouldst name him.” Luna sighed. “Very well. I shall locate the most recent census records for inspiration.” “Oh, thou needn’t take such measures!” Celestia replied with a hearty laugh. “After all, our friend is not a pony, and he therefore does not require a pony name. Luna, thou hast the most brilliant mind and the sharpest wit in all of Equestria; surely thou art able to produce a name from thy imagination.” The blue alicorn clearly disagreed, but she was not about to dismiss such praise for her intellect by arguing. After a few seconds of silence, she finally forced out a word: “Quigley.” “A most intriguing choice. Pray, what does it mean?” “It means nothing,” Luna said, with an obvious air of defeat in her voice. “It is completely devoid of meaning, being little more than a string of sounds crammed together by my desire to accede to thy request.” “I think it is perfect,” her sister said with utter sincerity. “A nonsensical name for a nonsensical creature. Oh, Quigley shall provide us with much amusement.” “Thou truly thinkest so?” Luna asked, her skepticism now softened by curiosity. “Of that, I feel most certain,” Celestia replied, “though his full nature still requires much refining. Come, my sister. Let us make ourselves a friend.” —————————— Penumbra let out a deep sigh as she paused in front of the door to her home, having elected to return to Pinkie’s mind rather than physically travel back to Canterlot with the others. Despite her efforts to inject as much optimism as she could into the remarks she’d made to her friends, it didn’t change the fact that Discord’s departure, permanent or otherwise, was far more bitter than sweet. Like so much about the draconequus, even his end was bizarre; he and Penumbra had been “officially” friends for less than an hour, yet the pegasus could not shake the feeling that she’d lost something irreplaceable. That was why she’d returned to Pinkie’s head. The others... well... except for Luna and Celestia, they seemed rather hesitant to believe that Discord had really had a last-minute change of heart. But that wasn’t their fault. They just needed time to sift through everything that had happened—and Penumbra needed to accept that, in all likelihood, she’d never see her friend again. Yet, as she opened her door and walked into her kitchen, this seemed to be an all but unattainable goal. As Penumbra closed her door behind her, this vague feeling of hopelessness was suddenly replaced by an absolute certainty that she would never truly be able to fully accept her friend’s demise, largely because at that moment Discord was standing in front of her open refrigerator, rummaging around for ingredients to add to the absurdly-tall open-face sandwich that he had balanced precariously on his paw. For several seconds, Penumbra stared slack-jawed at the chimera while her nose wrinkled up as if she’d walked right into the stench of rotten eggs. “Discord?! What... why... how on earth did you get in here?!” The draconequus chuckled in delight as he added a generous portion of sour cream to his sandwich and swallowed his creation in a single gulp. “Isn’t it obvious? As you’ve said many times before, I’m predictably unpredictable, so I did exactly what you said I’d do in your impromptu eulogy. Very moving, by the way. I’m quite touched.” Penumbra stamped her hoof against the floor and glared angrily at Discord. “I was just indulging in poetic imagery in an effort to bring about some emotional closure!” “That doesn’t change the fact that it was a really good idea, especially the part about returning when nopony expected it—and from the look on your face, I’d say I nailed that part perfectly. Though now that I think of it, I suppose this means I was actually unpredictably predictable this time around.” For a brief moment, Penumbra considered staying angry at Discord, but she was so relieved to see him again that she was barely able to hold on to her usual level of cynicism. However, his presence did raise a rather obvious question. “What about Sombra?” “Oh, you don’t need to worry about him,” Discord said. He casually opened a carton of milk and drained its contents (both milk and cardboard) into his mouth before continuing. “He’s still back at the Void.” “The Void?” Discord nodded. “Yeah, we didn’t end up in the afterlife, because neither of us actually died. Like I tried to explain to you, we basically just canceled each other out due to the whole ‘Order vs. Chaos’ thing and ended up in a featureless expanse of nothing. It’s a nice place to visit, but I don’t think I’d want to live there, especially if it means having to continually listen to Sombra whine about his self-imposed existential crisis.” “Huh?” “Basically, unless you put all of your mental effort into it, you can’t exist in the Void. Naturally, I immediately jumped at the chance to try out nonexistence, but Sombra... well, he seems to really value his sentience. I guess I sort of understand his problem, though, seeing as how he has a pathological need to make sense, which means that if he gives out and slips away, he won’t be coming back.” Penumbra nodded. “Whereas you don’t have to worry about being logically consistent, so you could retain your sapience despite your lack of a form or sentience, giving you an anchor to reality.” “Not really. I just decided to come back so I can give intellectual types like you massive headaches.” “What? You decided? But if you weren’t sentient, how could you...” Discord smirked. “See what I mean?” he said, gesturing towards Penumbra to further illustrate his point. “Not really, but I can see why you find it so amusing. I presume you’ll be off to do the same to Twilight and the others?” “Naturally,” Discord replied with a nod, “but not yet. I need to wait for the perfect opening for my re-reintroduction to Equestria. So... is it okay if I stay here for a while?” Penumbra sighed. “I doubt it. This is Pinkie’s head, after all, and she won’t be happy when she learns you’re in here. She doesn’t like you very much.” “Oh, I’m well aware of that. She told me so flat-out when she let me in here in the first place.” Penumbra could hardly believe her ears; somehow, on top of everything else, Discord had found a way to be unpredictably unpredictable. “She knows you’re here? And she’s okay with it?!” “Of course. She may not like me, but thanks to your little speech, she also knows that I’m important to you, and she’s your friend as much as I am. Plus, there’s no way she’d ever let personal feelings stand in the way of the most epic prank since... well, since the last time I played an epic prank. Besides, didn’t she just tell you that everything was going to be alright fifteen minutes ago?” Penumbra slowly rocked her head from side to side as she thought this over. “She did sound a little bit more confident than I would have expected when she said it,” she eventually admitted. Discord floated behind Penumbra and rubbed her shoulders as he quietly spoke directly into her ear. “So, how about it, Penny? Can I stay at your place for a while?” “I don’t know...” “Oh, come on! I gave up a chance to rule Equestria again so I could spend time with you. Do you really think I’ll squander our friendship by being a bad houseguest?” Penumbra finally lost her her struggle to maintain her usual grumpy demeanor and cracked a smile as she rubbed the back of her head. “No, I don’t,” she admitted in a kindly tone that sounded equally awkward and sincere. “You can stay as long as you need.” “Thanks, Penny,” Discord said as he flopped onto a couch in the living room and opened the copy of The Life and Times of Ahuizotl the Magnificent that had materialized in his paw. “You won’t regret this,” he said confidently, flashing his snaggletoothed grin and winking at his hostess. “I promise.” “You say that as though I didn’t already believe you,” the pegasus said as she sat in an armchair and opened a magazine. “Oh, and Discord?” “Yes?” “Don’t call me ‘Penny.’”